I feel I should just make a note that this is meant to be taken as satire. This is a result of a prompt that I found while wandering around on the Internet. Thank you.

Also: I have put up a poll on my profile with three options for my first multi-chaptered Hetalia fic. If you have time... vote please? The summaries are at the bottom of my profile.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

Even in a peaceful country such as his own, Canada was rarely given days off. After all of the recent ridiculous occurrences in the political theatre, he was relieved to just sit back on his couch at home and eat his ice cream with maple syrup drizzled over it. It had been extremely hot in Ontario recently, and that had made Matthew a bit cautious about going outside.

Poor Kumajiji had been suffering from the heat too, before he took pity on his friend and had sent him far north for the rest of the summer. Canada sighed and licked his spoon. While he missed his constant companion, nothing beat a day off relaxing with no Alfred to bother him.

A cloud of dust in the distance outside of his living room window caught his eye. Matthew wondered what could cause it. There weren't many cars that came down this road, as his house was the only one at the end of it. As a nation person, he had decided early on that keeping away from the prying eyes of neighbours was the key to an easier life and as such had owned this house since shortly before world war one. Matthew squinted as the cloud rapidly grew larger. No... it couldn't be. His brother was supposed to be busy today and he hadn't been crazy enough to tell Alfred that he had a day off.

Matthew desperately glanced around the room. Maybe if he found a hiding place, he could finish the rest of the day in peace? He dropped the tub of ice cream on the coffee table and raced into the kitchen. The low hanging cloth on the kitchen table caught his eye and he quickly ducked underneath it. Matthew squirmed around to get comfortable and held his breath.

He heard his front door bang against the wall and the telltale loud stomping that announced the arrival of his brother in his living room.

"Hmm, still warm," Alfred said.

Still warm? Matthew blinked. Oh. And then he face-palmed. "That's ice cream, Al."

"Mattie?" he heard Alfred wander around the house looking for him. "I know you're here somewhere."

Matthew held his breath as he watched Alfred's feet go by the table. There was a beat and then the cloth was slowly rose up to reveal Alfred with a spoon in his mouth. Matthew eye-twitched when he saw his container of maple ice cream in his brother's hands.

"What are you doing under there, Matt?"

"Oh, you know, Canadian things," Matthew muttered.

"Hah. You are so weird."

"I have a question."

"What?"

"What are you doing with my ice cream?"

"I was hungry?"

Matthew sighed. "Why are you here anyway?"

"I heard that your nation is getting fat."

"W-What?"

Alfred ignored this. "And as your heroic older brother, I have taken it upon myself to help you out by getting you started on a diet."

Matthew looked down at himself confusedly. He couldn't see any change compared to Alfred, who he knew had gained some weight recently. Then he glanced back to his brother, who had. Gone. Back. To. Eating. His ice cream! Matthew twitched.

"I'm fat? Look at yourself for once!"

"Huh? What are you talking about, Mattie? I'm not fat."

Sometimes, Matthew couldn't help but be amazed at how dense his brother was. "Oh really?"

"Of course! Everyone knows that heroes never get fat," Alfred informed him.

"Then why can I do this?" Matthew reached forward and poked his brother's stomach. It rippled.

"Hey!" Alfred laughed nervously. "That's just because I haven't been working out as much lately. I've been too busy."

"Face it, Alfred, you've gained some weight."

"No I haven't! You have. It says so right here," Alfred pulled a crumpled magazine out of his pocket. He opened it and thrust it in Matthew's face. "See?"

"That's just a side list of obesity rates in other countries. Did you read the main article's title?"

"Of course I did!"

"You do realize that it says 'America Once Again Ranked as Fattest Nation in the World', right?" Matthew said.

"Huh?" Alfred glanced at the title and then down at himself. He looked back up at Matthew with tears swimming in his eyes. "Mattie, I'm not fat, am I?"

"I-It's not that you are fat. You're... just a little chubby, that's all," Inwardly, Matthew cursed his own kindness.

Alfred sniffled. "Really?"

"Yes," Matthew put his hand on his shoulder. "And you have only become chubby in the last few months anyway."

Alfred recovered immediately and went back to eating ice cream. "You're right! How do I fix this?"

Matthew's lips curved into an evil smirk. "You must give up hamburgers."

Alfred looked like he was about to cry again. "What? Why?"

"You eat too many of them. You have to give up pop as well."

"Is there anything else?"

"You must also eat less than you usually do at every meal. And no candy afterwards, or in between meals."

"What about ice cream?"

Matthew glared. "Especially not ice cream!"

Alfred licked a globule of ice cream off the tip of his spoon. "Mattie, your diet plan sucks. I'm going to go ask Japan."

With that, Alfred wandered out of Matthew's house, pilfered ice cream still in hand. Matthew sighed in exasperation. Now he was stuck without any ice cream. On one of the hottest days on record. Sometimes, he really hated his brother.

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