Summary:Nantucket has become all weird and droopy suddenly! How could this be? Who did this to America? How do fix? Follow America on his valiant journey to rescue his hairy on audience.

The person in the mirror stared at him in horror. Mouth open in a silent scream. God dammit shit. That person was him!
He opened his mouth wider this time letting out an exodus of what the actual fuck.
"HOLY F*CKING F*CK! NANTUCKET! NANTUCKET! SPEAK TO ME! IF YOU ARE STILL ALIVE TWITCH! PLEASE TWITCH!"
America pressed his face closer to the mirror and concentrated on his golden-straw hair for any signs of life. Suddenly something feebly rose
Up a few centimeters before shakily slumping back into the rest of his hair.
"Oh no you don't!" Quickly, he grabbed after it, he was able to pull it out before Nantucket slipped away forever. He held it up above his head while looking into the mirror.
"Who did this to ya buddy? Who? I WILL END THEM." He growled and spazzed, careful not to jostle his injured friend.
Wait… Nantucket can't talk. Time for battle tactic #2. Intelligence resources.

England was in his nice little cottage enjoying a cup of tea when his door screamed bloody horror.
"Bloody Hell! America you arse, what have you done to my door? That's mahogany!"
America dusted himself off; brushing the so called mahogany off his impressive shoulders as England went off on his "bloody rant"!
Bloody this, bloody that, so much blood. Whatever dude, Nantucket was fading! And not in the kinda good way like 'faded' but dying!
"Shut UP, Trinket! I'm in the middle of calamity right now!" America shoved his blonde locks into England's face.
" Look at my hair! Nantucket's almost gone!"
England sputtered as he got some of the stale tasting hair into his mouth.
"Are you daft! The only problem with your hair is that it smells like the dustbin! Did you even shower this morning? Go bathe, you smell like the streets!"
"No, I didn't take a shower, I was too busy worrying about Nantucket! Wouldn't you freak out if you woke up with eyebrows that actually fit on you forehead?" America snickered at the cleverness of his own joke as he saw the Englishman's face gradually turn redder and redder. Wait for it…
"Why you! America YOU WANKER! My eyebrows are not that big!" He began hitting his former charge as steam like tea came out of his normal sized ears. His eyebrows becoming dramatically larger in his British tea-fortified rage.
America laughed obnoxiously as he blocked all of those weak poorly calculated punches.
"Whatever dude, I'm leaving. France probably knows more about this than you anyway" He pushed England's assaulting hands away and made a mad dash for the door, making sure to step on the broken mahogany to add insult to injury.
He was nearly halfway to another country when he heard the wails of a defeated man.
"YOU GIT! GET BACK 'ERE AND FIGHT LIKE A PROPER GENTLEMAN!"