The adventures of France and Gilbert (a.k.a Romano's Road Trip)
One, day, in the middle of summer, America was pissed off at Spain. We don't know how that happened, but we are sure it had to do with McDonalds laying of the tomatoes in their hamburgers.
Ludwig: Hamburgers were invented in Germany!
Italy: Ve~!
America decided to kidnap Romano as revenge. While Romano was stuffed in a potato sack in the back of America's truck, Spain ran out, throwing tomatoes and the occasional axe at the red, white, and blue pickup truck.
America: Give McDonalds tomatoes, and he'll come back!
America then drove off in the truck.
Spain: Oh, well. He'll have his work cut out for him with mi tomate!
Romano, meanwhile, was throwing all the insults he could muster at the American whilst tied up in a potato sack.
Romano: Let me out of this #$%$! sack you #$ ^#ing #%$ $%^#!
The American paused in his singing of some random country singer whose name we don't know, to think about what the angry Italian said. He did have to meet his (non existent) girlfriend in about ten minutes, and if he was late, no date to McDonalds!
America: Okay, I'll drop you off at Gilbert's! I'm sure he'll take care of/might rape you!
He swerved off the road to a rickety path that would take him to the older Germans house. When he got there, he threw Romano (still in the sack and cursing) on the doorstep.
Romano: I hope he's late for his stupid date!
Gilbert: What are you doing here? You hate me.
Romano: I came here for the air. I WAS KIDNAPPED AND DUMPED HERE YOU BASTARDO! AND GET ME OUT OF THIS POTATO SACK!
Gilbert gasped dramatically, background music playing and all. Austria was helping, and Hungary was acting all swoon-like.
Gilbert: Kidnaped?! By who?
Romano: By the hamburger idiot, that's who.
France: What's going on, mon ami?
Romano: Ah! Rapist Idiot!
Romano buried himself further into the sack, all the better to hide himself from France.
France: I'm not a rapist, mon cher, I just spread the amour around. Would you like to help?
Gilbert: No raping France, we have a problem!
France: Did you run out of beer?
Gilbert: No, Romano was kidnaped! We have to get him back to Spain! Otherwise, if he figures out we knew where he was and didn't help him get back; we'd have a homicidal Spanish bullfighter after us!
France: Mon Dieu! We have to get him back now!
Romano: Let me out of the potato sack first.
Gilbert and France let Romano out of the sack. Romano looked around the wooden porch they were in. Gilbert looked at France, who nodded ever so slightly. Francis picked up the sack, threw Romano in the said sack, and dumped in the back seat of Gilbert's truck.
Romano: WHY'D YOU STUFF ME BACK IN THE SACK YOU #%^&*%#!
Gilbert: It was on our bucket list. And you won't run off this way!
France: Next thing on the list- do a good deed for someone you hate.
Romano: Like that'll happen, rapist idiot.
France: Gilbert, drop us off at England's house for a minute.
Gilbert: Right-o, love!
After ten hours, 25 minutes, twenty eight bathroom breaks, and eights stops to McDonalds later, they were at England's house. France knocked on the door, with Gilbert behind him and Romano carried over Gilberts shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
(No pun intended.)
England: What are you two gits doing here? And why is that sack over your shoulder moving?
Romano: Hi Eyebrows. How are you? Please get me out of the sack. I think something besides me is moving.
Gilbert: Chill, it's just Gilbird.
France: Bonjour, mon petit lapin! I decided to do a good deed and eat some of your scones! So I'll just take some and leave, okay?
England: Okay, not going to let a chance to poison you- I mean, let you try my delicious cooking go! I'll go get some. And what does the stupid French part mean?
Gilbert (whisper): Is it really safe to eat?
France (whisper): Of course not, but we can use them as weapons.
England: Got the scones! You should eat them while they're still fresh.
Gilbert: Sure we'll eat them now, the scones are awesome! I think…
France: Bye, England! I hope to see you again soon mon amour!
England: What does that mean?
Gilbert: Bye now.
Romano: Get me out of this sack.
So France and Gilbert got the basket of burnt scones, just like in the pictures. Yay for them. Romano was thrown in the back seat of the truck, and the three continued on their journey to find Spain.
France: So, where is Spain?
Romano: How should I know? Spain dragged me of to some holiday to who-knows-where. The idiot.
Gilbert: So we're basically going on a wild goose chase to find Spain?
Romano: Well you could use his cell and con-
Gilbert: ROAD TRIP, WHOOT!
France: How fun this will be!
Romano: ARE YOU IDIOTS LISTENING TO ME-
France: Did you say something?
Romano: I give up. I'm just going to play with Gilbird.
And so the epic friendship of Romano and Gilbird, which is still going strong to this very day, began. And Gilbert was NOT jealous that his feathery friend had found another playmate. Not at all. He wasn't crying either; the wind was in his face, that's it!
Ludwig: Please man up bruder.
Gilbert: Bruder!? What are you doing here? And how did you get in the car? France is driving at 120 miles per hour!
France: Ohonhonhon~ but that is the way to drive a car, no?
Ludwig: I'm basically the author's representative for this story. England and Romano had parts, so I was third pick.
Gilbert: Can you make that #$ % of an author get me my Gilbird back?
Ludwig: I don't want to die yet, bruder.
Ludwig disappeared in a puff (which was a very manly puff) of…something that Gilbert didn't know what it was. Smoke? Powder? Pixie Dust? Anyway, they continued to drive at a ridicules speed toward some destination.
But all was not well in the world (when is it ever?). America had somehow found out that France and Gilbert were getting Romano back to Spain. If Romano goes back to Spain, he'll never get tomatoes on his Big Mac EVER AGAIN. Now, that couldn't happen, now could it? So Canada decided to help his brother.
(Read: America forced Canada to help him, completely ignoring his protests of having hockey practice)
So Canada had to help in America's plan.
Now, as a fellow Hetalia fan, I'm sure you know America doesn't have the best ideas on his good days, but when stretched and manipulated by a young author who was bored? Well, the results are down below.
Canada somehow managed to flag down France and Gilbert and hop in the car(can someone write a fanfiction about that?). And while he didn't want to, he had to stop them from getting to Spain.
Canada: Uh… I need help with love advice!
France: You came to the right place, mon cher!
Romano: No you didn't!
France: So who is it? Is she beautiful? Or is it a guy? Hot tempered, flirty, brash, stupid, or oblivious? TELL ME!
Canada: Um… none of the above. I mean, I'm a quiet person with quiet tastes. Why on earth would people make me fall in love with those qualities above? Maple!
Gilbert: Saying a random leaf is weird bro.
And thus ended Canada's first attempt.
His second, third, fourth, fifth, and so on and so forth, all the way to his sixty fourth attempts failed as well. But his last attempt worked, as it was getting quite late out and Romano was already sleeping.
(The bad touch trio now have their first ever blackmail picture on Romano, a picture of him curled up to Gilbird and a soft smile on his face. Romano was still in the sack, so we had no idea how that happened.)
Canada: Aren't you guys tired? It's like midnight.
France: Good point, it is late out, as the full moon peeks out the silver clouds, shyly showing its-
Gilbert: Hey! Look a hotel! Convenient!
Canada: I'll wake up Romano.
Gilbert: We'll tell America and England you love them.
Canada: Romano…
Romano: random muffled words which Canada couldn't decipher but he heard "raining tomatoes."
Canada: Romano.
Romano: repeats what he said.
Canada: ROMANO!
Romano: #$ !$%!
Romano attempted to get up, but was restrained by the sack, causing him to flop down to the dirty floor of the truck. Gilbird was also in the sack, and Gilbert, France and Canada could hear his hysterical chirping.
Gilbert: Is Gilbird hurt? BECAUSE IF HE IS I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL # %# % YOU UP.
Canada: Let's all calm down, eh? How about I room with Romano?
Romano: So long as I get Gilbird, he's the only sane one.
Gilbert: If you're sleeping with Gilbird, so am I!
France: That just sounds wrong…
Gilbert: You know what I mean!
Canada: Okay, Gilbert and Romano, and me and France in another room.
France: My pleasure!
Canada: Oh maple…
And so the four friends (and Gilbird) walked to the random hotel in the middle of nowhere. The hotel itself was a large, spacious building, but quite old in the charming way. The dark hardwood floors were creaky and the tacky wallpaper was almost peeling of the walls, but the crystal chandelier and romantic music playing made up for it quite well.
Sealand: Hello! How can I help you?
Gilbert: Dude aren't you a little too young to be working? And two rooms for two please.
Sealand: Hey! I'm gonna be bigger than England one day, just you watch! And I need some way to get money.
Canada: I kind of doubt it; Microsoft Office 2010 doesn't recognize your "country" as a real one.
And with that, they took the keys from the young nation, and went to their separate rooms.
And Canada knew this was his last chance.
So, in the middle of the night, Canada had to sneak out of his shared room to get to Romano. He would have been successful if he hadn't stubbed his toe on France's bag. Canada stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep his already quiet voice down. Looking on what he almost tripped on, he nearly screamed!
Canada: England's burnt scones! So they do have weapons!
France: Canada? Where are you going?
Canada: Uh… out?
France: Then why are you holding England's scones! You're working for America, as no one would touch those scones voluntarily, except for England himself!
Rest of the World: We agree, those things are baked death.
England: Tasteless Gits! Wankers! You people have no bloody taste!
Rest of the World: Right,it's us with no taste.
Canada: Hey, he made me!
France: Well, not going to let you go. We'll just have to have fun on our own, hmm? Ohonhonhon…
Canada: Well, karma is a #$% alright.
In the other room, Gilbert decided to make a quick trip to the bar in another conveniently close spot (no less than a block away!). When he got to the bar, he could see a familiar face at the counter, looking glum and ordering tequila. Judging by the glasses on the counter, it wasn't his first drink.
Gilbert: Spain! What are you doing here!
Spain: Amigo! I didn't know you were vacationing here too!
Gilbert: Where is this place, anyway?
Spain: This isn't a place ruled by kings or queens, dukes or duchesses, man or woman. This is the place of the Magaics, a proud race who are skilled in the art of alchemy and sorcery. They're usually peaceful, but make one wrong move and you won't find anything to bury. And they invented alcohol!
Gilbert: Okay… how are you enjoying your vacation?
Spain: Not very much. Romano was kidnapped by America, and I can't get him back!
Gilbert: Actually Romano's in the hotel were staying at. America dropped him off at my house and we were trying to find you.
Spain: Romano! Boss is coming for you!
Gilbert and Spain ran to the hotel, ignoring the strange noises coming from the other room. They were used to it anyway. Gilbert's door was unlocked, so the two thirds of the Bad Touch Trio were able to enter without any problem. Spain ran to hug Romano right away.
Spain: - and we can go back to Spain or maybe we can visit your house and grow lots of tomatoes and maybe see Italy because he's almost as cute as you and he could make us pasta and we can have Germany and Prussia over and we could all sit and eat and talk with lots and lots of tomatoes!
Romano: I can't breathe!
THE END.
A/N: So, my first fan fic on FFN! Woot! So proud of myself. just curious, can anyone tell me what this was a parody of? Ill give you a hint, the series is one of may favorites listed on my profile.