Author: Enkou Sokugetsu
Title: In which the "little, cute brother" gives "the big, scary talk" (This is the complete title! I hate the limited characters !)
Fandom: Hetalia
Genre: Cuteness, brotherly love, some sex-talk, sweet beyond belief
Characters: Feliciano (N. Italy), Romano (S. Italy) - mentioned Antonio (Spain) and Ludwig (Germany)
Pairings: implied GerItaGer (you've read right, bitches), implied Spamano. No Italiacest. For this time, at least...
Rating: Nothing really happens, but a freaking lot is hinted. Won't avoid M-rating, with this one *chuckles* So! M-rated for implied sex (a lot), and language (Romano, remember?)
Summary: What happens when the big brother proves to be a lot more prude than little, seemingly innocent Feliciano? Yaoi implied, implied GerItaGer, implied Spamano - no Italiacest
Disclaimer: Hetalia is not mine. But I'm Italian, heck, this must count as something, right? :D
Special Thanks: to my auntie, for beta-ing all my works, this included!
Dedicated to: my auntie, of course, 'cause she loved it! And, well, to everyone who thinks that Feli actually HAS a brain...
Notes: English is not my native language. If you spot any mistakes, please do tell me and I'll do my best to correct them!

Hello, everyone! This is my modest take on the Italian Bros.
It's a little weird, believe me, because I was born in the South of Italy and brought up in the North (the living proof that not every Italian is offended by Hetalia).
Talk about personal involvement...*chuckles*I've never written about them before, though, apart from some...random Spamano here and there.

Anyway, if you believe Feli is a complete moron, stray off. If you believe Romano is a bitch without any reason... stray off as well.

Oh, a personal note here. I REFUSE to call Romano "Lovino". To me, they'll always be Feliciano & Romano Vargas. Any Italian with some common sense would think Lovino is HORRIBLE. At least, Romano is an actual NAME...

Oh, I have TWO (yay!) omake (extra) chapters (spin-offs?) ready (I mean, they're already written, babies) - should you like this one...so? Should I upload them or not?

Italian glossary:
Fratellone - big brother

Capito? - understood?

Oh, mamma! - Oh, mother! - typical Italian exclamation. More or less like "Oh, Lord", and the likes, I'd say.

Spanish glossary:
mi amor, mi vida, querido - my love, my life, beloved one (I suppose they're all?)

In which the "little, cute brother" gives "the big, scary talk"

When Feliciano Vargas slipped out of the shower and went down into his kitchen, he was rather surprised to spot his brother kicking and yelling against the fridge.

"Bastard! Jerk! Idiot!"

"Fratellone...? What's wrong?" he inquired with a light tone, tilting his head to the side and arranging the towel around his waist.

"Huh?" Romano turned around, his glare softening as soon as he saw his little brother "Nothing much. That Spanish jerk is...! Aaah! Would you believe it? I volunteered to give him a shoulder massage, just to sound "gentle", for once and..."

His face contracted into an impossibly disgusted grimace, and he took out a Coke from the fridge, slamming the door close with a kick.

In a sense, Feliciano had seen in coming.

Differently from the common belief, Romano was a calm and goodhearted guy, and, to make him so upset and angry, only two things could have happened.

Either he had seen Ludwig, or he had had one of his usual quarrels with Antonio.

He stepped closer, leaning against the counter.

"And then? What happened?"

"Then..." the older one's face became bright red and he gripped the Coke hard enough to make the light metal crackle sinisterly. If Feliciano's judgment was correct, he was even trembling lightly "His...I mean he...his pants were...I could...I could see his thing!"

The can exploded with a sound pop, its content spurting up like a geyser.

The young one looked at the miniature eruption, sighing wearily.

However, rather than the thought of how long it would take him to clean that mess, it was his brother's scared reaction to cause his sharp intake of breath.

What was he expecting, after having given a boy a massage?
A boy madly in love with him, moreover...

And then, they were both men and, yet, his brother didn't seem to be able to even say the word "erection".

Truth to be told, Feliciano was worried.

Since when they were kids, Romano had been protecting him, always trying to put his well-being above everything and anything else.

But, while he struggled to keep his younger brother away from any trouble, little and naive Feliciano had grown up and become a man.

He had had sex for the first time when he had just turned 13 and, by the age of 20, he had engaged into a committed relationship with a man he loved very much, and he had tried to face it all maturely.

He was still a bit clumsy, that's true, especially with all those things like international relationships or economy, but he was sure he could learn a lot of that from Ludwig, in due time.

Romano didn't know.

Maybe, he suspected something, since, well, they weren't trying to hide either, but Feliciano himself had never really talked to him about those matters.

Why?

Romano seemed scared.

Of course, he whistled every time he saw a beautiful girl down the street, and tried to be a gentleman towards the female half of the universe, but, in his entire life, he had never brought someone home, at least as far as he knew.

Since the time he had turned from a child into an understanding adolescent, Feliciano had kept a close eye on the development of the relationship between Antonio and his brother and, when he realized how much the gentle Spanish cared about his "querido", the little Italian had felt relieved.

He thought that, maybe, his brother just "swung the other way" and the beautiful Spaniard was surely a good match – handsome, generous, witty, funny.

Somebody able to make Romano finally happy and keep him in check at the same time.

However, things hadn't progressed the way the young Italian had thought.

Judging from the rumors going around, and the happy, blissful face Antonio had stamped on his face from time to time, he had gathered there had been some "physical interaction", between them, but, for some reason he didn't know, his brother looked tense nonetheless.

And every time something even just the slightest bit sex-hinting was brought up, he freaked up completely.

Like tonight, for example.

"Oh... I understand..." Feliciano spoke after a second, his hazel eyes trying to fathom his brother's nearly identical ones.

Romano shook his head, grunting.

He tossed the smashed can into the trash bin, opening the poor fridge to fetch a new one.

"It was so gross! You can't even imagine how gross!" he took out his Coke and sipped it slowly, casting a distracted look at his brother's half-naked figure. He frowned, suddenly "What's that thing on your right shoulder? It looks like...a bruise, I guess. Did you hurt yourself or something?"

The younger one blinked, surprised, bringing his hand to massage the zone in search of a sore spot.

Bruise?

He was sure he had done nothing to injure his...

… oh.

He blushed a little, feeling a little bump under his fingertips that he immediately identified as the small bite Ludwig had given him just a handful of hours before.

"Oh...this. It's nothing really" he stuttered, chuckling nervously "You don't have to worry, fratellone"

How was he supposed to tell his terrified brother about something like that?

Romano, however, didn't buy it as easily as he had hoped.

He narrowed his eyes, drawing closer to inspect the suspicious lesion, and practically pinning poor Feliciano against the counter he had been lying against.

"It's that stupid German, right? He dared hurting you, that bastard! I'm going to kill him! Now!"

He drew back quickly, walking towards the entrance door, but the younger Italian seized his arm, stopping him.

"H-Hey, wait! It's true, it's Ludwig that... did this to me, but...it was consensual, you know..." he looked down, blushing a lot and sort of expecting a mad reaction from his hot-headed sibling.

Romano, however, just raised a brow.

He tilted his head, resting his closed fists on his sides and shooting his little brother a severe look.

"You don't need to protect him all the time, you know! Why would you let him hit you hard enough to leave a bruise, eh? It doesn't make sense!"

Hit him... hard enough to leave a bruise...?

Feliciano blinked in disbelief, slightly shaking his head.

"Veee...i-it's not a bruise, fratellone..." he sighed a little, desperately trying to look for the right words and failing "...it's called... a hickey"

"Hi..ckey?" the older one titled his head to the side, grimacing "What's that? Some German kind of fighting style?"

Feliciano Vargas' shoulders dropped down.

Did he really...?

Had his brother never...?

For real...?

For a brief moment he thought that Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was either a saint or a complete moron.

And here, he had firmly believed he was a "territorial" man, you know, being Spanish and all, while Ludwig had always been so stiff, and attentive not to leave any marks that couldn't be covered easily...

But still, Romano had no clue about what a "hickey" was.

"You...really don't know what is it?" Feliciano asked again, tentatively.

His brother nodded, scowling as if to say "Don't you dare making fun of me".

The younger Italian sighed.

Wasn't it the other way around, usually?

Big brothers giving the little ones "The Talk"?

It was going to be a long, long night...

"Here. Sit on the couch, fratellone. I think we need to talk..."

A handful of minutes later, Feliciano Vargas had put on a pair of trousers and a shirt, and was now sitting cross-legged in a corner of the couch, sipping some chamomile and watching his brother drink what was probably the hundredth espresso of the day.

"So? Will you start speaking or not?" he grunted almost immediately, irritated "Let me warn you, though. Nothing will make me change my mind about beating the crap out of that big, German idiot!"

Feliciano sighed.

Indeed, it was going to be a long night.

He decided to avoid jumping straight to the point and, taking a deep breath to find some courage, he forced his lips into a smile, sighing.

"... how is it going with Antonio, fratellone? You spend a lot of time, together..."

Romano immediately grimaced, glaring daggers at him "I don't want to hear anything regarding that idiot for a long while! Can you imagine it? He was...his thing was...!" his hands gestured frantically, and his expression was almost pained "For a simple shoulder massage...!"

The younger Italian nodded a little, trying to look sympathetic, while a small portion of his mind wondered if Ludwig too, would have such a favorable reaction to a massage.

"I see..." he replied, looking intently at his mug "...and tell me...what do you do when you're alone together, mmm? When you don't give him a massage, that is..."

He chuckled a little, hoping that would soothe his brother's gloomy mood.

It seemed to work, to some extent, because Romano just hissed a little, staring ahead.

"...I...well, nothing much. We talk. We quarrel. Sometimes we do stuff together, like, you know, watching movies, or taking a walk..." he sighed, then turned to fix his gaze on Feliciano again "But what does it have to do with that hick-something, there?"

Said Feliciano just waved his hand casually, clearly meaning that he'd get there, eventually.

"Oh, I understand. You look so close to each other!" he paused for a second, pondering about the words he should use "And, tell me...does he ever want to hug you, or touch you?"

He saw Romano's face becoming livid.

"I mean, he looks very friendly and cuddly, doesn't he..?" he added quickly, to smother the tension.

His brother sighed a little, toying with the now empty cup in his hand.

"Yeah, he does. It's always "Romano, come here, mi vida", or "Let me hug you close, mi amor"...it's sickening, as you can guess...bleargh..."

Poor Antonio.

He ought to have been madly in love, to endure such a behavior for so long, indeed.

"Really?" he tilted his head a little, sipping another mouthful of his clear, warm liquid "I think it's just cute, you know. He shows you that he cares..."

"Well, he can care without always trying to stick his hands somewhere, you know!" the other one retorted, glaring harder than before "And then, it has nothing to do with-"

Okay, maybe doing some random chit-chat to slowly slip into that kind of talk without any trauma wasn't a great idea.

That's why, closing his eyes, he decided to just go for it.

"You two have sex together, don't you?"

He had thought of using some gentler expression, like "sleep together", but he was sure that, despite understanding what he meant pretty well, Romano would try to wriggle out of that topic, by complaining about Antonio snoring, or something.

As soon as he had pronounced those words, his brother's face became pale.

Then, it started to regain its color, swiftly reaching its normal shade but going on still, until he was as red as one of his beloved tomatoes.

"W-What...H-How...? W-Why...?" he stuttered, taken aback "No, of course!"

Denial.

He should have seen it coming.

He tried to smile harder, hoping to put his so-called "cute looks" to some good use.

"Oh, please, fratellone, you can be honest with me. I'm your brother, right?"

Romano just became even redder, reaching the spectrum of intense violet.

"It's...you...you're too young to even talk about such a thing! W-when you'll be older, maybe-"

"I already had sex, fratellone. Honestly, I had sex even this morning, you know? So, you can talk freely..." Feliciano replied, adding a giggle for good measure.

The older one choked, letting go of the cup that, to the younger one's relief, just bumped on the carpet underneath, without breaking.

"W-WHAT DID YOU DO THIS MORNING?"

"Veeee..." Feliciano slightly pouted, frowning "Ludwig will be gone for a week or two, he has some important business to do with his boss. So, we needed an extra supply of cuddles and all..!"

He laughed in all earnest, recalling for a second Ludwig's super-adorable face as he had knelt down in front of him, unbuckling his belt.

He wondered if even the casual and passionate Spanish would be taken aback by such a thing, but, thinking about it, he seriously doubted his brother would ever do something like that.

Once again, too bad for the poor Antonio.

"Y-you...you and that...that idiot German...you...! H-he can't even go on … a week without touching you? He's dead! He's done for!"

Indeed, it was a nice attempt to try and lead the discussion towards more comfortable topics, but Feliciano wouldn't be fooled that easily – differently from what everyone else believed, of course.

"I asked him to do it myself. He was a little...reluctant" he pondered for a second, letting out a small sigh "He's a workaholic, I think he needs to let go, sometime..."

"F-F-Fe-F-FELICIANOOOOOOO!"

As Romano yelled, his face was bright red for the effort.

His arms swayed nervously, and he almost choked on his own breath.

"Eeeeh? What's wrong? It's true, if you never relax, you end up all tensed, you know?" the younger Italian sipped his chamomile again, trying to look as calm as possible if only to balance his brother's restlessness.

"And all the emotions you bottle up, sooner or later will explode..." he added, casually "I think you should learn how to enjoy yourself some more. And take it a little easier...eh?"

Feliciano giggled a little to himself, wondering if his brother had understood the slight double entendre hidden in his last remark, but the blank and somewhat pissed look he received wiped away any lingering doubt.

"W-what do you mean? I-I enjoy myself very much, thank you! My life is full, rich of satisfactions and I have absolutely nothing wrong, I tell you, noth-"

"How often do you have sex with Antonio, fratellone?"

The littler one placidly interrupted him, giving him again that soft, mind-numbing smile of his.

"W-wha...? I mean...I never said that I...with him! N-no, I do-"

Feliciano Vargas shrugged, cocking his head a little and studying Romano's distressed figure.

"Once a day?"

He heard a gasping sound, and his older brother gave him a worried, terrified look.

"Oh mamma, no! I could never! And then, I told you that-"

"Three times a week?" tried to guess again the other one, musing for a second that it would be a good compromise – if only for the fact that it was his "average" with Ludwig.

Had it depended on him alone, he would have gone for three times a day, but his handsome German was so strict and rule-abiding...

"F-Feliciano, stop it, for God's sake!"

"Once a week?"

That would have explained why Antonio always did his best to absolutely free on every Saturday...

Poor guy. Poor, poor guy.

"M-make it once a month!" erupted Romano all of a sudden, hiding his face with his hands and shaking violently "And stop asking such...shameful things! And don't tell anyone! Do you understand me? Capito?"

Once...a month...?

Oh, Lord!

How could they go on without any physical contact for as much as 30 long, excruciating, endless days?

If he couldn't at least, well, make-out a little with Ludwig every few days, he became all broody and depressed...!

The matter was even tougher than he thought, maybe.

"R-really? Once a month? Why don't you do it more often?" he inquired, his worry and surprise evidently seeping through his voice.

"W-why should we do it more often? It's already enough a burden as it is!

Feliciano casually looked at his brother's hands moving nervously and incredibly fast, following them with his gaze and sighing a little.

"And please, please, let's not talk about this anymore! Let's forget it, erase it, wipe it off! Let's-"

"Is it because it hurts too much, fratellone? Is Antonio rough, or something, or doesn't he prepare you long enough? You know, it can be mended, if that's the problem..."

He was sort of sad at the thought of constantly interrupting his brother's every reply, but he was pretty sure that, if he hadn't done so, Romano's rantings would have probably escalated swiftly and seriously enough to make him risk a heart-attack.

He was too... hysterical.

Yes, hysterical was the right word.

He definitely need to relax, one way or the other.

He watched him gasp, practically horrified by the words he had heard.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, and he looked pretty much like a fish that had just been pulled out of the water and was now floundering on the shore.

Oh, needless to say, if Feliciano Vargas did dare making such questions, it was only because he was pretty sure of a couple of things.

First of all, he was absolutely certain that Romano was in love with Antonio, even if he hadn't realized it yet.

Well, honestly, it didn't take a genius to understand that, no matter how hard he tried to "free himself of that stupid jerk", in the end he always wound up at his place, but, in case the younger Italian had needed some extra evidence to prove his theory, he had seen with his very eyes a few, unmistakable scenes.

For example, Romano didn't remember any of it, but he had murmured the Spaniard's name a few times, that once his fever was high enough to make him delirious.

And he hadn't calmed down until Antonio had rushed to his side, to cool down his forehead with iced clothes. The patient and loving Spanish had even managed to make that sick rascal swallow some warm soup and a couple of pills, lulling him until he had fallen asleep buried against the older man's chest.

Secondly, he was also sure that his brother was a bottom.

This fact wasn't as blatantly obvious as the previous one, but he had some pretty consistent proof nonetheless.

He barked a lot, that's true, but Romano was meeker than everyone else gave him credit for, and his brother knew it well. He claimed to be strong and dominating, but, when push came to shove, he always ended up tagging along, rather than guiding.

And then – another thing his brother sacredly ignored – he had heard them a couple of times, when a drunken Romano had been carried home by a desperate Antonio.

His brother could be incredibly sexy when drunk, sexy and provoking, and the poor Spanish was a saint, but not an eunuch...

Long story short, all the "Please, take it slowly" or "It's too big...it hurts...!" were a dead give away on Romano's "location" during lovemaking.

"HOW CAN YOU ASK SUCH A THING AND STILL KEEP THAT GODDAMNED ANGELIC FACE?"

Feliciano blinked.

Honestly, he didn't think his appearance had anything "angelic" or something. He was just... well, comfortable with the topic?

He was happy with his life, he was satisfied of his sexuality – and it just reflected on his serene features. Or, at least, that's what he thought.

"Veeee...it's not angelic!" he slightly pouted "I'm worried, fratellone! Is it really that painful for you? Don't you have some Vaseline, or gel, or something? Oh, and his fingers, does he use them properly?"

He saw Romano Vargas' cheeks go through the whole palette of the color spectrum, and sighed.

"S-STOP IT!" the yell was almost frantic, and the older one shook his head violently "A-and then, s-stop assuming that...that I would be the one who...who...!"

"Who takes it? What's wrong with taking it? I take it too, you know" he giggled, sincerely hoping this would soothe a little his brother's anxiety "Well, most of the times, anyway..."

If his brother's blank and lifeless stare was any a clue, that was the final blow.

He let himself fall back on the sofa, fixing his gaze on the ceiling.

Feliciano reached out, caressing Romano's head with his palm, softly.

"Fratellone...? Are you disappointed in me? Because I do things...that are shameful for you?"

The other one didn't reply.

He kept looking up, restlessly, and his limbs shook lightly, as if jolted by electricity.

The little Italian took a deep breath and spoke up again, still stroking his brother's hair.

"You know... Ludwig's been my first man. I had had many girls, before, but no, no men at all. But you know, fratellone...I loved him too much to really care about the fact that we were both guys, or...well, to even think about who was going to be on top, or who was going to be the bottom."

He cast a distracted glance at the other boy.

He had stopped shaking, but his eyes were still wandering. He seemed lost in his thoughts.

"Oh...and my first time with Ludwig... I thought I was going to die, because my heart beat so fast, and I was so nervous. And it hurt, yes, it's logical, isn't it? But, at the same time, he hugged me close, and I felt that nothing else mattered... and then, when I relaxed, the pain disappeared, and... it was very pleasant..."

Romano turned around.

He narrowed his gaze, almost glaring at his little brother.

"Good for you" he uttered, turning back to focus on the high ceiling "But I'm different, Feliciano. I'm not made for human relationships...I've tried, but I failed. Antonio's a good enough chap, but I'm simply... beyond repair, I think..."

The hand stopped stroking for a second.

There was a small pause, and a little gasp.

"Do you love him, fratellone?"

He didn't have any doubt about it, but he thought that bringing his stiff and shy brother to say it himself would be... therapeutic for him.

"Love is a big word" he replied, hurriedly "But... if by love you mean that I miss him when he's gone, or that... he's one of the few people I want around when I'm mad, or sad... then...yeah, I love him..."

The young one smiled.

"And...do you like it, when he makes love to you?" he saw Romano's face contract again, so he added, quickly and with an uncharacteristic, stern tone "Please, be honest..."

"I...I don't..." he sighed, wearily and deeply "...it's weird. I...it hurts, every single time, for me. I know, I know, I should relax, because if you relax everything's easier, smoother, and a lot less painful, right? And Antonio says it too, every time, and he's sweet, and he waits for me and all that jazz...but I can't relax, that's all. All it takes me to creep out is seeing him naked in the same bed with me, would you believe it?" he paused, chuckling bitterly "Of course not, you seem to get along so well with your German ice cube, there..."

As he heard him speak, Feliciano felt an incredible fondness towards his brother.

"I don't claim that I can understand you, no, but...I can try to imagine, how hard it can be. Maybe... if you took some initiative of your own, you wouldn't be taken aback, no? You could be in control, and maybe that would calm you down, at least a little bit...huh?"

Just when his younger brother reached out to stroke his hair again, Romano sat up.

He blushed, a tiny bit, gaping.

"...I can't! Is it that hard to understand? I'm not like you all! I...I can't picture myself starting to kiss him, or hug him, or caress him, or whatever!" he hissed, almost panting "Whenever he draws closer to me, I start sweating, and my heart beats too fast, and blood pounds into my head! How am I supposed to think straight and be collected enough to start something, eh?"

Feliciano smiled again.

If that wasn't "love", then, what was it?

"You don't have to be "collected", you know, fratellone?" he patted his head, softly "If you feel like kissing him, just kiss him. If you feel like hugging him, just hug him..." he shrugged, still beaming "And, of course, if you feel like... giving him some adult cuddles, just do that too, eh!"

His giggle filled the room and the older Italian huffed, crossing arms on his chest.

"Heh...if I did something like that, Antonio would be scared like Hell. He'd call the doctor, yelling hysterically that I'm deadly sick, or somethin'..."

The younger laughed again, sincerely.

"I don't think so. If you start giving him a blow-job willingly, he'll be too petrified to react in any way other than fainting, in my opinion!"

He dropped it casually, but, as usual, his brother was astonished.

"F-FELICIANO! W-Where did you learn...?"

The young one shrugged.

"With Ludwig of course. He loves it when I do it with my mouth. I think I'm quite skilled at-"

"I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE WORD! THE DAMN WORD! YOU DID SUCH A THING?" he nearly choked, shocked beyond belief "Oh, mamma...how...how COULD YOU?"

Feliciano blinked, somewhat surprised.

"Well? You never did it?"

"Of course NOT!"

He blinked again.

Yes, he had sort of imagined that someone as shy and sex-scared like his brother would... refrain from certain practices, to say the least, but still, hearing it from his very lips was still unsettling.

"Not even once? Really?"

"NO, I tell you!"

Antonio wasn't a saint.

He was... what's there even higher and holier and purer than sanctification?

Well, whatever it was, it reflected the condition of the poor Spaniard.

Feliciano put his finger on his own chin, pondering deeply for a few seconds.

"... did you ever receive one?"

Even before Romano would reply, his mad blush was indeed a telltale sign.

"T-that's none of your business!"

"That's so selfish of you, fratellone!" the young Italian did his best to hold back his laughter as he watched his sibling's face nearly explode from embarrassment "You let him go down on you and never pay back the favor!"

"I never said I enjoy it!"

Feliciano Vargas smirked a little "But do you?"

Again, the red shade of his brother's face was more eloquent than any spoken confession, but, after a few seconds of utter shame, he managed to blurt out a hushed "Yeah"

"You enjoy getting one, however you're too prude to...how can I put it? Be on the giving end?"

"I'm not prude! I just...I mean...it's not normal to...it's...! AAAAH! You will never understand! What did that German do to you?" he desperately seized Feliciano's shoulders, shaking him violently "What did he do to my sweet, innocent brother? Il mio fratellino! Give him back, you blond son of a bitch!"

Desperate situations needed desperate countermeasures.

The small and apparently naive Italian knew it very well.

"Veee! You're just envious, fratellone! Because I can do something that you cannot!"

He did his best to pour childishness and mockery into his voice, and, as he heard himself speaking, he thought he did a decent job.

"W-what the fuck are you saying?"

"That you're jealous of me! I dare you to do that, too! To go down on your Spanish keeper! If you can, that is..."

Well, he wasn't sure if it was because the likes of Romano Vargas hated to lose, or because of the absolutely calculated, teasing way he had let the word "keeper" roll out of his lips, but, the young mastermind was absolutely pleased to see his brother's face become literally livid with anger.

"YOU'RE GONNA SEE! THERE'S ABSOLUTELY NOTHING I CAN'T FUCKING DO!"

As he watched a very pissed South-Italian stomp out of the room, fuming and muttering to himself like a pot about to explode, Feliciano Vargas could only think that, if his little plan was going to really work, a certain Spanish would owe him a big, big one.

o-O-o Owari o-O-o

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Coming soon (should you like this one) - Romano tries to win the bet...