I'm sorry if people are terribly out of character. Hungary, Austria, France, Spain and America were for some reason hard for me. Also, I don't do accents. They're inconvenient to type and the red line bugs me. Just use your imagination.

Once upon a time, there lived a lonely couple in a small cottage. After their only son, Roman, was killed in a tragic accident, the couple had no one but each other for company.

One cold day in December the wife, a Hungarian girl named Elizabeta, turned to her husband with a sigh. "I bought a kit to make an albino gingerbread man. It sounded interesting. Want to help?" She pulled on his arm to incite him into following her into the kitchen.

The husband, an Austrian man named Roderich, just stared at her. "An albino gingerbread man? Why would you want to do that?"

He stood up anyway. His fingers were hurting from non-stop playing of his piano anyway.

When they finished making the gingerbread man, he had white frosting for hair and the gingerbread was dyed white. For eyes he had red jelly beans.

But the worst part was when he stood up on his own and with a German-sounding accent (East German, perhaps?) screamed out: Hallo! Bow to the awesome me!"

The couple screamed like babies. Elizabeta recovered first. She picked up the nearest heavy object—a frying pan –and held it in a threatening position.

"Who are you?" She muttered darkly.

"Mein awesome name is Gilbert." He jumped off the counter. "See ya, unawesome bitches!"

"Get your ass back here!" Elizabeta cried out.

Gilbert turned around with a wicked grin. "Run, Run, Run, as fast as you can, you can't catch me, I'm the awesome gingerbread man!"

And he was off.

In the house of Roderich and Elizabeta, lived a gun that was displayed on the wall above the fireplace. This gun, named Vash, had a hobby of glaring at Roderich from his spot on the wall. He often fantasized about shooting him, but the only things stopping him was that he didn't have any hands to pull his trigger, and he did not wish for his little sister, a candle on top of the hearth that was named Lilli, to see any unpleasant things.

On the other side of the living room, was a rocking chair named Berwald. On the chair was a Santa Hat, named Tino, who was placed on the chair every December, and every December kept trying to hide from the chair without success.

Vash had to listen to the chair call the hat his wife while the hat tried to subtly leave. It never worked because the poor hat didn't have any appendages other than his "jingle bells."

Today though, it was not Berwald and Tino that got a reaction out of Vash, but instead the albino gingerbread named Gilbert.

As the gingerbread man left the house, chased by the couple, Elizabeta holding a… frying pan? Roderich had to stop at the doorway to catch his breath.

Vash was not amused quite yet, but then the frying pan came out of nowhere and hit Roderich, making him cry out, "My vital regions" and scurry back inside. It was followed by Elizabeta's yelling of random obscenities and an "I am awesome! Kesesesese" in the distance.

Vash did something he hadn't done in a long time.

He laughed.

As Gilbert ran triumphantly from the couple, laughing his head off, he stumbled across three people—foods, more likely—fighting. He sat patiently waiting for them to stop. After a while he learned some things about them. One of them, a double cheeseburger, had a hero complex and an annoying laugh. Another, a burnt-looking chocolate chip scone, had a habit of calling him a "bloody git" and the other one, a croissant, a "Bloody Frog."

The croissant and the burger were both full of themselves, and the scone looked irritable. Gilbert was about to leave and ask someone else for directions, when a quiet maple leaf fell from the tree above and quietly said, "Hey guys."

The maple leaf tried to get their attention several times, until the croissant noticed and exclaimed. "mon petit Mathieu, I have missed you!"

The maple leaf, Matthew evidently, muttered, "I've been here the whole time, Papa." He was overshadowed by the extremely loud cheeseburger with the obnoxious American accent.

"Hey bro! Where've you been dude?!" The burger nudged him.

Matthew sighed. "Alfred, I've been here the whole time." He stressed again.

The scone spoke. "I awfully sorry, Matthew. These wankers distracted me."

"Who distracted your creator?" Alfred called out. The croissant snickered.

"Your chocolate chips are so huge! And distastefully fuzzy. Who dared to make cuisine like you? Hideous crime against nature."

"Bullocks!" The scone exclaimed, turning to the burger. "You've got no room to talk, you bloody Yank. You're crawling with so much grease I'm scared to be near you." He turned to the croissant. "And you're arse is as huge as my pirate ship, Frog!"

"What pirate ship, Rosbif?"

"The one I'm going to steer right into your bloo—"

Gilbert turned to Matthew. "They're not going to stop are they?"

Matthew jumped, not expected him to talk. "I've tried."

"You wouldn't know how to get the nearest park, would you Birdie?"

Matthew pondered the new nickname. "Sure. Come on." Alfred, Arthur, and Francis would be fine without him for a while.

Besides, the gingerbread was not only attractive but had actual hands and feet and a real mouth.

This was bound to be interesting.

As the gingerbread man and the maple leaf headed to Central park—Matthew used the wind to transport himself—they started to see a peculiar sight. A fox with stern blue eyes was being nudged by an unusually friendly-looking lion cub with a curl. The lion cub was going on about pasta in an Italian accent.

Near them was a quiet mochi. At first Gilbert didn't think it was an animated one, until the mochi rolled over to him and said softly. "Konnichiwa. I am Honda Kiku." Kiku bowed.

Bleh, too formal for Gilbert's taste. He turned expectantly towards the fox. Regardless of the fact that many of his gingerbread breathren had been eaten up by foxes, somehow he trusted the fox more than the lion. The fox said—er, screamed, "German."

And Gilbert was inclined to trust Germans.

The fox started to speak. "Hallo. I am L—"

The lion cub cut him off. "Ciao! My name is Feliciano and this is my best friend Luddy!"

"Ludwig." The fox corrected. He reached out a paw for Gilbert to shake, which he did, albeit warily.

The lion cup sprang forward. Gilbert did the manly thing.

He shrieked and hid under Matthew, who sighed and mumbled things in French.

The lion cub stopped and looked at him with confusion. Slowly, Matthew coaxed him out from under his leaf.

Ludwig sighed. "Feli! What have I told you about that?"

Feli started to cry. "I'm so sorry, mister. I just wanted to give you a friendly hug. Mi dispiace, perdonami!"

Awh, Gilbert thought. He was so cute!

"What are you crying about, fratello idiota?" A tomato rolled over. "You better not have done anything to him, potato bastard!"

Gilbert had a feeling that if tomatoes had eyes that this one would be glaring at Ludwig so hard that a hole would open and he would fall to the center of the Earth.

The image was unawesome.

"Why are you so upset, Lovi?" A Spanish bull-calf ran over and started sniffing the tomato, who headbutted him as well as he could.

"Lovi?"

"Shut up, jerk bastard. Kraut breath must've hurt my fratello!"

"I did no such thing, Lovino."

"Shut the fuck up!"

The bull noticed Gilbert. He smiled excidedly. "Hola! "Me llamo Antonio."

About then, a kitten and a mask sauntered over and started fighting over Kiku and Gilbert decided that he and his leaf should probably get out of there.

"Come one Birdie!" He exclaimed. "Let's go annoy that prissy aristocrat and his creepy wife with the frying pan."

Matthew shrugged and followed him, wishing he could figure out where exactly on his leaf his speaking-hole was so he could properly kiss his date without it being awkward.

Wait…

This was a date, right?