Chapter I~ Checking our Mailbox of Doom

Disclaimer~ I do not own Hetalia.

This morning was probably the worst morning of my immortal life. Although I'm probably just being overly dramatic about it, it wasn't the best morning of my life. Why, you might ask? Because it was the morning when Veneziano and I actually checked our fucking mailbox of doom. That mailbox was just waiting to explode on the next person to touch it. And guess who that turned out to be? Yeah, that's right, me! There must've been more letters in that stupid thing than I can count. There's no doubt half of them were probably and most-likely bills and paychecks or anything relating to money and the economy and other things I didn't give a damn about.

We didn't even have the time to sort the letters out anyway! Veneziano and I have become far too busy lately to check our mail daily. So, we usually just check once every few months just so the mailman doesn't get a heart attack when he tries to plant another letter in that thing. The mailbox looked like it ate a person... Why are you looking at me like that? Yes, we're busy! And not in the way you think we are because that's fucking disgusting! You fangirls of mine need to lay off reading this shit like it's your job. Last week, when I wasn't busy as hell, I checked this lovely website of yours and accidentally read one of the most horrifying fan fictions I have ever read. Now, I can't even look at most of the other countries the same way at the World Conferences! However, I must say you captured most personalities perfectly. I'll applaud you for that.

As I was saying... Lately, our economy hasn't been all that great which is a shocker to me since we're Italy, you bastards. And last time I checked the whole world loved to go to Italy. I don't see why not? Beautiful skies and lands, art worth more than your life savings, and hell, we make the best cuisine in the world. Ignore what that fuckface says, mind you... But like the rest of the world, were broke. Miracle, isn't it? Not broke, but damn the unemployment rate is high and all the complaining is annoying. All the young people who are supposedly our future are hella nervous about it too. Damn it...

So, now my boss has been on our asses lately making us work politics and business all year. Excuse my French. Wait... Hell no! I would rather die than learn French because that would mean I actually know that fuckface's language! Hell, even Feliciano agrees with me on that! And as you know our opinions differ greatly. Me actually agreeing with him... just the thought of it makes me queasy.

Back to my story, so usually when we're checking the mail I check it first. Being the elder sibling, I should do everything first. I check for spam mail and German sissy letters. God, let me tell you they even smell like sausages. And I throw that worthless shit out in the trash and carry on with anything that has to do with me while Veneziano gets all emotional and starts crying about how the potato bastard never sends any letters... I swear I'm surrounded by idiots. Then, there are those threat letters from anonymous claiming he will invade my vital regions if I didn't visit Spain. I swear I'll get you someday, you motherfucking bastard. I highly doubt it was Spain anyway since he isn't that egotistical. The threat letters kept claiming to be awesome and cursing and Spain, being the wuss he is, doesn't curse. I should know, I've lived more than half my life with the guy. And then there's more bills...

Now I have the beginnings of a major migraine. I've been contemplating on whether or not I should visit Spain nowadays. You know, on those days, when I'm actually not busy and go on a vacation in Spain. N-not saying I would! If I did visit that tomato bastard, I know I'd probably wouldn't come back and then that wouldn't be a vacation, would it? Besides I don't think I'd be able to leave anyway, not with Spain pleading for me to stay and giving me that watery puppy face. How could you say no?! Then, I'd leave all the hard work on my brother and my boss. My boss would probably be pissed off and come to Spain himself just to spat in rapid Italian how I'm a lazy ass. And then, Veneziano would cry and whine and hell, I don't wanna deal with that dammit! So, as you can see it would be a stupid decision to visit the tomato bastard, therefore I sure as hell won't.

Now, I know what all of you are thinking... Don't you live with Spain? Yeah, now give me a minute to explain that. NO. Not since I became independent from him. Visit him once in awhile? Yes, until he invites France the Fuckface and Potato Bastard Number 2 over and get so drunk that I sneaked out, into my Ferrari, and back to Italy without dealing with Spain's constant whining. Try avoiding that! I think I've forgotten how he looks already. All I know is he's not as strong as he used to be. I-I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'll answer more questions later but for now I need to finish reading the mail, dammit! I'm not as lazy as you like fucks to think I am! I can pull my weight around when I want to!

So, let me lay out the scene for you. Veneziano and I are in the living room and we have a shitload of mail stacked on the coffee table and basically everywhere. I'm sitting in my comfy leather couch, legs crossed, arms crossed and pouting since our mail doubled in size since our last clean up. Veneziano is sitting down on the floor; eager, happy, giggling as usual, reading a letter I forgot to throw out from that potato bastard. The sight was horrifying, in fact, if I read that letter I might barf... all over Veneziano. Heh... that'll teach him to read those letters in front of him. Whatever he does, he better not...

"Ve~ Lovi~ Look at what Germany sent me!" He chimed as he turned to me as if expected me to actually read what the potato bastard sent him. He waved the letter in front of me. Damn... now I wish I was illiterate. Since, when did that macho potato learn Italian!? What the fuck!?

"Hell no! Feli, get that thing away from me!" I swatted at the paper and stood, marching over to the kitchen. There was no way I was going back in there without a drink. Hm... so I poured a glass of red wine for me and orange juice for Feli. Idiot better be grateful and not speak a word about it or else I might regret it in the first place. I returned and gave him the drink, only this time was different. He didn't thank yours truly or giggle and smile. How odd... instead he was deeply entranced by the laced letter before him.

In all honesty, I've never seen Feliciano this intensely focused unless he was teaching someone who has no taste in food; oh say... eyebrows or the potato bastard how to make pasta. Last time, he was kind enough to grade it a D- when I would gave them a big fat F. Their cooking probably destroys taste buds anyway.

Can I be brutally honest here? Yeah, okay Feli was scaring to the point where I might piss my pants. You try watching him concentrate once in awhile. He's not even this focused when it comes to his own damn economy! Which in retrospect is also our health. Thank god, only a few moments later did his stiff hard expression relax into a calm, eccentric, and his normal happy-go-lucky one. Incidentally, because I was slightly worried that the potato bastard did something to upset Feli from one of his letters, I knocked over another stack of mail that was piled up neatly. It's not my fault, damn it! Who put the freakin' mail there in the first place? Its in my way! Oh wait... wasn't that me? Ugh... whatever I don't have time to deal with crap like this!

"Lovi~! Look! We have an invite! I think it's from Hungary~!" Feliciano giggled. Fucking giggled. Only three things pop into my mind, when I hear the name: "Hungary".

Run.

Run,

And NEVER look back!

That she-demon is always trying to push countries together and... do I really have to explain all this?! She and Japan probably teamed up to try and make the entire world a R-18 rated yaoi manga. Yes, I know what manga is, Japan sent me one for my birthday last year! Oh the horror. So, an invite from Hungary, eh? There's no doubt, this will end badly... for me. All you fangirls will probably drool over this.

"Invite for what?" I asked, even though I knew perfectly well that I wasn't going and that there is no force on this earth that was going to make me go to whatever this is! I bit my lip in anticipation.

"An Emergency World Conference~! Ooh... sounds serious. This time we're going to Hungary's house!" Emergency World Conference, my ass. Probably a setup for something I really wouldn't want to take part in. Then again... everything isn't all about someone taking vengeance on me. I've got to stop with all the narcissistic things I'm saying before I turn out like that douche, Prussia. "It says she invited everyone and..."

"Feli, shut up for a fucking minute! We're not going! Hell, this letter doesn't even look legit. I say we ask our Boss the next time we see him next week..."

"But fratello, the World Conference is tomorrow!" Feliciano cried. Damn it, now I can see how this would be just perfect. If we don't attend then the next time I see my Boss hell murder my ass for ignoring this if it DOES turn out to be real. If we do attend and it turns out to be a trap, were screwed.

"Dammit Feli! Last time, we went to an "Emergency" World Conference, everyone ended up dancing and so wasted I forgot how I ended up in Prussia's bed! And I'm not risking that again!" Thank god, I woke up fully clothed. But I had a killer hangover that day.

"But fratello..." He whined.

"Feli, there is nothing you can say that will make me go to that she-demon's house!" I screeched for emphasis. If there was one thing I was absolutely certain of, it was that bad feeling in my gut that I should avoid this meeting at all costs.

"Big Brother Spain will be there! Ve~" Oh for fuck's sake.

((A/N~ Thank you for reading~! Oh and I apologize for the overuse of cursing, I hate cursing. I almost never curse and I just feel guilty now. Hope ya liked it~!))