Alfred F. Jones was bored.
Not that he didn't have every video game possible, every movie you could want, and all the music and books he could need. No, he was bored because he honestly had nothing better to do. Well, nothing he actually wanted to do, thinking of the pile of papers he had left in his inbox at the office.
Everyone was busy in meetings or off fighting in conflicts or doing something. Even Iggy has something better to do than text me.
He sat on his overly large couch and looked through the numbers of all the countries he could try, trying to think of who didn't have anything better to do.
No… no… no… no… no… no… no… no… Russia?
That was an interesting thought. He could text Russia, he hadn't bothered the Russki since the nineties anyway, well not on a personal level anyway, so he opened the texting app and started to type out a message: Hey dude, what up? And he hit send before his brain was even able to process what he was doing.
He was just bored after all.
-AFJ—IB-
Just one more… One more of those pesky little business cards and his scale model of the Winter Palace would be complete. Ivan Braginsky had been slaving over this new project for nearly three and a half hours now, as a deterrent from doing actual work. He could deal with Georgia, or Belarus, or Poland, or the Koreas, or a handful of the Middle Eastern countries, he could even begin his assault on the papers for the 2014 Sochi games… But, why would anyone want to? The day was surprisingly warm and sunny for April in Moscow and the rays of sun drifting in lazily through the open window made him sleepy more than anything... Not that he could just leave if he wanted to. Nyet, he had to work.
Well, he had to be in work at least, it would take great force to motivate him on such a day and he just wanted to be left alone with his business cards from stuffy executive types, his sunny window, and his lit cigarette.
But things have a way of going awry very quickly for the largest of the nations.
As Ivan reached for the last of the cards that he had strewn across his already paper filled (Yet extremely organized, a habit he could not kick from his days as Soviet Russia) desk, something monumental and devastating happened… His phone received a text message. Just a simple message, could have been from anyone, that was not the problem. The problem was the proximity from the card palace to his phone. The three inch gap on his rickety old card table he usually used as a sorting bin of sorts. Those three inches on those rickety legs (One of which had been leveled to the rest by a copy of The Communist Manifesto since the early nineties) and that all to powerful vibrate function on that accursed phone.
It seemed to happen in slow motion, as so many momentous things do, the table gave a little wiggle and a little wobble, and then the destruction happened. Slowly at first, just some aftershock like shakes quaking the palace's foundation, Perhaps we are safe yet. …Probably not, Ivan thought, and was indeed correct. With another shudder, the cards turned horizontally, slowly at the bottom and growing quicker and quicker as the shakes went higher up his old work place. They all fell, every last one of them, and Ivan could do nothing but stare. Stare and wonder what was so important that this person had to decimate his distraction and escape just to tell him. Someone had better be dying… he thought as he made his way over his fallen masterpiece. …Maybe England~ He mused almost hopefully, with that trademark chuckle building in the back of his throat.
He opened the phone, "1 новое сообщение" He clicked the message. And stared some more.
"Hey dude, what up?"
Sent from… "Америка?" He wondered aloud. What would America, his enemy of so many years, want now? After nearly nineteen years of snide remarks and tense conversations only at world meetings, this wasn't exactly a message he expected to receive… But, it would be impolite to not answer him… Da?
"Privet, Amerika… Kak dela?" He looked over the message, nothing to committing, just a simple response to a simple message, right? It wasn't like they hated each other anymore, maybe they annoyed each other, but no longer hated… "Maybe Amerika wants to be friends again…~?" Ivan asked himself as he sat in his chair and took another long drag on his cigarette. "Just kidding~ That would be such a silly thing to assume…~"
-AFJ—IB-
Alfred was getting an extremely large leftover Subway sub from the fridge when he felt his pocket buzz.
Privet Amerika… Kak dela?
"What the fuck?" he looked at it again. That wasn't English. Or American even. He closed the fridge, setting the sandwich on the island and typed out: What the hell? That ain't English. Or American. And you spelt my name wrong. :p He sent the message and began his attack on the sandwich, heroically devouring the hero.
At least it wasn't death threats he couldn't understand or jokes about that whole condom thing. That was majorly annoying. But at least the commie, well, he wasn't a commie anymore, but the principle stuck, and at least the commie wasn't a commie anymore.
Wait, what? Alfred thought, chewing the sandwich more vigorously. Thinking was hard work for heroes after all! And that sentence was weird.
-AFJ—IB- -IB—AFJ-
Buzz-uzz-uzz… There was that buzzing again, though Ivan was expecting it this time, perhaps not so quickly, but was expecting it none the less. He heaved a sigh as he read over Alfred's newest text message and flicked the cigarette out of the open window and onto the dewy grass three stories down. 'And you spelt my name wrong. :p' Well, that accusation would not stand, as he was spelling it the correct way for Russian. Why should he compromise himself for this small blonde haired man?
Well, Amerika, I see no merit in speaking in Amerikan. If I had been victorious after our little bout and it was your country that had fallen, would you be so quick to speak Russian? He wondered if there was anything he had forgotten to add. He could add some snide remark about Amerika's weight or his troubles with oil… But, he really was just not feeling it. He had work to do and he was hoping to perhaps stop by the market on his way home to pick up some groceries.
Pressing the 'send' button and setting the phone back on his desk, he headed downstairs for a refreshed cup of coffee and perhaps a late lunch…
-IB—AFJ- -AFJ—IB- -IB—AFJ-
He was finishing off the sandwich and thinking about finishing it off with a trip to McDonald's when his phone buzzed again.
He read the message, blinking. Was he playing the hypothetical game?
He typed: Are you playing the hypothetical game? Because I totally kicked your ass IRL. Really. And no, I wouldn't speak Russian. American's too awesome for that! :D Anyway, whatcha doin'?
Ha, he thought, grabbing the keys to his ninja car and driving to McDonald's, take that.
-AFJ—IB- -IB—AFJ-
He stared for a few seconds at the newest message. "Why is Amerika being so talkative…?" He asked no one in particular, not that there was anyone to ask. It was a Friday, after all, and one with such fair weather? Who would want to come to the Kremlin, even those who worked here had left early to seize the day or some such silly thing. All that was left was the custodial staff coming in early to perhaps get some time off themselves and the head secretary with her long lightly tanned legs and her long brown hair. Ivan had always loved his Gypsy children, they were always so beautiful and so free… But then why does Natasha work here…? He wondered as Natasha herself walked into the room, but quickly left with a bright red blush and a small squeak. Ivan just sighed and pulled a bottle of Vodka out from his jacket's pocket and added it to his coffee. She must have acquired that frame of mind from his father… He was in the military, I believe… He shook his head to return from his thoughts and leaned against the counter, again reading the message. IRL? "What is IRL…? Industrial Revolution… Liberation?" He could not make heads or tails of the exuberant American's most recent message…
Shto? What does the IRL stand for? I cannot think of anything that is relevant to the subject manner… Anyway, Amerikan is not a language and I am at work…
He always knew the young nation was a bit thick skulled, but did he not know when to stop and leave someone alone to do their work…?
-IB—AFJ- -AFJ—IB-
Sitting on the hood of his shiny black car, enjoying the April sun and the ever-so-delicious Mickey D's, his phone buzzed again. Reading it through, he typed back a quick response.
'Shto'? and IRL is for In Real Life. It totes is and that sounds boring. :p I skipped out of work today. FREEEEEDOM~! ;DDDD
Foreigners were so weird sometimes.
-AFJ—IB- -IB—AFJ-
On his walk back to his office, his phone buzzed once again. "Persistent, are we not…?" He mused aloud while reading the message. ';DDDD'? Department of Defense of Dogs in Danger? Then, what was the ';' for? He made a mental note to research this. America liked dogs, right? He often would commend them for their loyalty and he himself really was quite a bit like a dog… Always smiling and with boundless energy and just so… So… Not innocent, nyet, that was not the word Ivan searched for… "Idiotic, perhaps…?" Ivan would probably be consider more of a cat… Temperamental, flighty, longs to be warm, likes to just lie out in the sun whenever possible… But, that would be no good~ I would be allergic to myself…~ He thought with a shrug and a sad smile as he sat back at his chair, deciding that he, too, should be done for the day (It was in the mid-50s! How could one resist?) as he thought of a responding message.
Da, da, I know what occupies your mind. Freedom, Football, and McDonald's, da? It is only a hunch, but I am guessing you are enjoying your 'freedom' with some ungodly cheeseburger and package of French fries (Or are they still 'Freedom Fries'?) the size of a small dog in your car as we converse. Am I correct? Probably dreaming of your Superb Bowl or what have you…
He packed his work up and headed out into the streets of Moscow, shading his eyes from the bright sun and lighting a fresh cigarette as he headed towards Perekrestok to pick up some cheap Vodka and other necessities to shut up the annoying little voice in his head and the annoying little words on his phone…
"Perhaps I will also stop at Moskovskiy Dom Knigi…?" He asked the air, "I have been needing some new literature to read, I think… Clear the mind and such…" He shook his head, "Whom am I even addressing? No one cares…~" And he headed off into the bustling crowds with scarf blowing behind him and cigarette smoke trailing out in long tendrils, like a path of some sort to follow.
-IB—AFJ- -AFJ—IB-
He got the next text message when he was driving back to his house. Should I look at it? He asked himself. No! It's against the law! Hero's always follow the law! …but a little peek wouldn't hurt right? After all, everybody does it…
Alfred quickly looked at the new message and scanned it. Something about fries and a dog and the 'Superb Bowl', whatever the fuck that was.
He put the phone down as he finished driving to his house, the large farmhouse structure and guesthouse empty except for Tony, and parked in the large garage with his multitude of cars. Getting out and going into the sun again before climbing the steps to his porch, he fired back a message: Well, yeah, but football season is over. And it's the Super Bowl dork. It finished back in February though. And I was eatin' some delish Mickey D's, but now I'm back home~
He entered his empty house, flipping on the lights. Sure, it had been full for a while, but all the states had grown. Alfred remembered the night the Thirteen Originals had all shown up.
It was May 29, 1790. It had been a hot, stormy day and the wind was blowing just as fiercely at night. But all it did was blow at his newly constructed just-outside-of-Washington D.C home. He was sitting; re-reading The Federalist Papers that Alexander had lent him, when there was a knock on the door. He got up quickly, springing to the door and wrenching it open easily despite the push of the wind.
There they sat. 13 small children that were strangers to him yet with varying degrees of blue eyes, all staring back with a familiarity. The oldest one stepped forward, a girl with long brown hair and blue eyes exactly like his own.
"Daddy?" She was only four years old. The First State. "D-Daddy, it's Delaware." She sniffled. "We n-need you Daddy. Please, h-h-help us." And with that, his life as not only the nation of states began, but as the father of the states started.
He avoided telling any other nations about his children. He didn't want them to be taken away or to be attacked or wooed by the others. Of course that Canadia guy knew and his Iggy~, but otherwise, he was mum on the subject. Lips sealed, throw away the key.
After his children started arriving, he began reconstructing his house, building it bigger and bigger. And then adding a third floor altogether for himself and his stuff, leaving the second floor for his states and guests. He left them an open field for play and had them help with the building once they were old enough. That is, until the Civil War, then the house sat unfinished and broken until after the war.
But Alfred didn't like to remember the Civil War so he went to go play a game violent enough that he would forget.
-AFJ—IB— . . . =J= . . . –IB—AFJ-
Looking from one to the other and back again, he weighed the plusses and minuses of purchasing a new copy of War and Peace or to buy a novel by an up and coming new author. On the one hand, this was a most well loved story (One he could quite probably recite cover to cover), and his copy was so thoroughly worn that some of the pages were missing. His first edition copy of the book was still at his old old home in St. Petersburg because he most certainly did not enjoy visiting that home since… Well, best not to think of it, da? Anyway… He shook his head to clear the image of the two remaining young girls, covered in their family's blood and looking at their country with those eyes…
ANYWAY. He thought more forcefully, on the other hand this new book was, well, new. And the Medvedev/Putin administration did always preach modernization and new ideas… But! Tradition was important, too, right? He thought on it for a bit more before putting the new book back and checked his buzzing phone and the accompanying message. Who likes Sci-Fi anyway, right…? He thought as he dispensed the currency for his book and typed out a short response.
Delish is not a word. Durak.
He did not feel much like speaking, he felt like going home and curling up in a square of sun with a bottle of Vodka and his new old book and perhaps some sunflower seeds…~ That would be such a nice snack…~
-IB—AFJ-
Durak? He paused his game, watching the pixilated people of Acre freeze and dissapear into the Animus as he typed back: Durak? Whut? I'm majorly confused dude. . And it is~
He went back into the game and back into the dream within a dream.
-AFJ—IB—
Three… Two… One… Buzz-uzz! Just in time…
Da. Durak. And is not. Durak. …That face looks stupid. ^J^
Maybe if he ignored the phone, it would stop buzzing…~? Probably not… Is silly to hope for…
-IB—AFJ—
No, I meant, what does that mean? I don't speak Russian bud.
-AFJ—IB—
Well. Maybe it would be helpful if you were to learn, da? I give you so many of your scientists and Hockey players, after all. Not to mention Alaska…
-IB—AFJ— 3
Hey! You leave him out of this! He's a good kid, thanks to my parenting! :P
-AFJ—IB—
Well. That was an interesting thing to say… Ivan cocked an eyebrow and typed a response
'He' is a 'good kid' thanks to your 'parenting', Amerika…?
Ivan would appreciate some answers, that was for sure…
-IB—AFJ—
"Oh shit." That was about the only thing he could say in a situation like this.
Uh, yeah, sorry. I had a spelling mistake. Oops.
Nice save, Jones. He thought, working on a plate of cookies. Nice save.
-AFJ—IB—
America had always been an abysmal liar, but a spelling mistake? Nyet, nyet, this seemed highly unlikely.
Amerika, you gouged part of my back out to receive that land. What is it you are hiding from me, Comrade?
-IB—AFJ—
Sometimes, you just had to face the music. And Iggy always said he was a crappy liar. Hero's just aren't good at lying for a reason.
Ew… Fine. I don't tell a lot of people this and you can't tell anyone, but the states are like us. All fifty of'em. And Alaska is a good kid. So don't go sayin' anything bad about him.
-AFJ—IB—
Well. This was not what he was expecting to hear today.
States like us?
How was one to respond to such information…? Not that he hadn't had a sneaking suspicion, he and Alf— Nyet. We are not yet there. Amerika, Amerika is what I call him now because Amerika is what his title is… Regardless of the name, the two of them had been fair friends before this whole "COMMIES ARE EVIL AND SUCK EVIL COMMIE DICK FOR VODKA AND PORN" silliness began, and he had seen some unchanging faces who hung around the young country. I always found that odd… He thought, lighting a new cigarette and finding his patch of sunlight, Guess this makes a bit of sense, then…?
-IB—AFJ—
Yeah. They're nearly autonomous ya know? They each have their own version of my federal government and they're so different~ They just kinda of are~ They're good kids though, especially if they came from me!
-AFJ—IB—
Da. Obviously. Everything that comes from you is perfect, Amerika.
God, he hoped sarcasm was transferable through textual messaging…
-IB—AJF—
Mmhmm~! . . . . . . but you won't tell right?
-AFJ—IB—
What merit would there be in divulging your secrets any longer, Comrade?
-IB—AFJ—
That was a weird thing to say. He had thought he would demand to see little Alaska or try and steal him back or something. This was new.
I dunno. Just for shits and giggles?
-AFJ—IB—
Now is the time to make a deal, da? No good will come to you if you refuse~~~
Just a little threat~ Always the most effective~
-IB—AFJ—
He knew it. Once a commie, always a commie.
Fuck off commie. I don't make deals with you. You leave them alone and I won't nuke your ass and kick you to kingdom come. :(
-AFJ—IB—
Now, really, Amerika~~~ So quick to dismiss our fresh START~~~?
This was starting to get fun…~ "Kolkolkol…~~~"
-IB—AFJ—
Look, I'm not even talking about that. If you fuck with my family, I will kill you. I'll go along with that START because it's good for everyone, but you stay away from my family. You will never get to see any of them, especially at this rate.
Sent.
He didn't know why he added that last part. It just sounded like the right thing to say. He wondered a lot of things, putting his controllers on the table and going for a look around the house, mostly the second floor. He picked up things from the ground and made it so the messes weren't as bad. Generally tidying up. He wasn't sure what to think.
-AFJ—IB—
"Oh, this is fun~!" Ivan said to himself, sitting up with another self satisfied chuckle, "Silly little Amerika~~~ Exposing a new weakness to me~? What a novel idea~ Let us see where this goes, da~?"
Now now, Amerika~ Do not be so hasty in your decisions, da~? The future can be very unpredictable! My guess is that by this time next year, we will either be the best of friends or one of us will be at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean~~~ Would you care to make a bet~?
"Americans are always so much fun to manipulate…~"
-IB—AFJ—
He was really confused. Or concerned. Concerned. Either way, it spelt Trouble with a capital T.
What the hell are you talking about? Just quit it with the mind games and stay away from my kids and we won't have any problems, okay?
-AFJ—IB—
Oh, that is correct~ Amerika is having money troubles, da~? Guess it would not be too good to be making any bets right now! How silly of me! How embarrassing for you!
Not that Ivan himself wasn't having money troubles, but he really just wanted to humiliate America! He went and flopped down on the big couch adjacent from the television and fireplace in his living room and pressed send. Ivan's new house was very small compared to the Soviet Union's old house, but it fit him and that was all he needed, right? He had some guest rooms on the third floor, but it was really not so spectacular. The attic was filled with memories, though not many as most were still in his old houses and he didn't like to visit there… Not anymore, that is. He shook his head, hoping to vanquish all of those sad thoughts. Why did they always pop up? Why did they always haunt him? Maybe if he drank enough, this time, they'd go away… Maybe it'd work this time… "…Probably not."
He wasn't so sure he wanted to annoy America right now…
-IB—AFJ—
He was still a major asshole, Alfred would have to give him that. What a dick move…
Just leave me alone if you're gonna be a dick about it. :P
-AFJ—IB—
Fine.
Fine.
-IB—AFJ—
Great. Now he had to go and make him feel like a dick. This was annoying.
….. Sorry. I just get protective of my kids. They mean the world to me, besides Arthur and my country, and I don't like threats towards them…
His fingers hovered over the touch screen. The message was perfectly fine but it needed something more. Something else. But what?
….. Sorry. I just get protective of my kids. They mean the world to me, besides Arthur and my country, and I don't like threats towards them…. If you want you can come and meet them sometime.
Send.
-AFJ—IB—
Oh, well, this was interesting… He hadn't meant to make America feel guilty, and most certainly wasn't expecting this…
…Really?
He wasn't willing to believe the Capitalist Pig's words.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
-IB—AFJ—
Well, yeah. If you want to. But only if I'm there. I need to protect them of course. But yeah, I don't see why not. One of them did come from you, so yeah.
-AFJ—IB—
…Why?
Ivan smelled lies.
Lies and cigarette smoke.
-IB—AFJ—
Honestly? I don't think it would be too bad of an idea. That, and Alaska's always askin' about you. Might be a good time to introduce y'all~
-AFJ—IB—
But you and I hate each other. Well. Maybe we no longer hate each other, but there is a mutual dislike. …But our bosses are trying to revive relations… But I am not sure how ready I am for that…
Send.
Knock knock knock!
"Visitor?" Ivan wondered aloud, "Who would visit me, unless…?" Ivan did have one friend, a certain island nation with quite the… interesting… personality. Not that he minded, of course, his and her countries barely had any interaction, which was maybe why the two were on such good terms. Anyway, Ivan thought as he reached the door, Probably just a package of some sort, right…?
Wrong! He knew who stood there when he had to actually look down to see the guest with her thick red hair and smiling face. "Privet, Erin…~" He said with a small smile as the Republic of Ireland wrapped her thin yet strong arms around his waist (It was the highest she could reach after all…).
"'Lo, love~ Y'a'righ'?" She looked up at him with smiling eyes and a smiling face. She is so pretty…~ Ivan thought, smiling back, because she really was. Her hair was thick and wasn't too curly, but was more wavy and a good shade of red (Not too orange, not too brown), her eyes were wide and a mossy emerald green and, despite her short stature, she really did have quite a nice body, if Ivan was not being too forward in thinking so. Yes, Ivan quiet enjoyed his little 'friend' and their nights and days together…~
"Well, are you not going to come in~?"
"Aye!"
-IB—AFJ—
I don't hate you. Maybe dislike you, but I don't hate you. Anyway~! You have to come~~! Alaska is way excited to meet you~ and a little scared, but mostly excited~!
Luckily, by the time Alfred had wandered up to his room, Arthur was finally online. He started off by listening to him rant about his new upstart, David Cameron. Well, at least I get to talk to my hunny-bunch~~~
-AFJ—IB—
Ivan heaved a sigh and uncapped his forgotten bottle of Vodka, sitting on the couch heavily.
"Wot's wrong, big guy~?" Erin questioned, snuggling closer and taking a drag on her cigarette (Which elicited a bright blush from Ivan).
"Amerika."
"Ahhh, wot's Al doin' now, boy-oh~?"
"He wishes to extend an invitation towards me, to visit his family."
"Well, that's nice o' 'im~ Yeh'll take advantage, I reckon?"
"I have not yet decided…" He said with a shrug, getting back off the couch, "Anyway, the Pierogi have finished boiling…" And with that he left to the kitchen. Silly, forgetful, distracted Ivan, leaving his phone unguarded around Ireland?
Well, the chance to meet whoever this was Al called his 'Family' was too good an opportunity for Ivan to pass up! Erin had to be the hero! Be diplomatic! …Or maybe she was just a little drunk. That was more likely, anyway…
Da, da, sound good, da? I come. When I come? Sounds very lovely. Korosho!
That sounded like Ivan. …Right?
-IB—AFJ—
He read it over twice.
And then twice more. Alfred thought about asking Iggy for his opinion but… they weren't on the best terms right? Or was that Germany?
He shrugged, either way…
Great~! How about next week? Alaska is gonna bring his schoolwork though, just to warn you. And Iggy's gonna be here too~! It's gonna be fun~!
He sent that with a smile. Sometimes it did get awful lonely in this big ol' house…
-AFJ—IB—
Oh, great, I love that big limey cocksucker.
Oh, wait, that didn't sound like Ivan. Schyte.
"…On second thought, kin'a did~!"
And so she hit send.
-IB—AFJ—
That just made his blood boil and his stomach twist into angry, protective knots.
HEY! YOU SHUT UP ABOUT MY ARTHUR! YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK. YOU. YOU WILL NEVER GET TO SEE ALASKA! NEVER.
-AFJ—IB—
"Oops. I fecked it all up…" Said Erin with a pouty little face, the mole under her right eye getting scrunched up with the rest of her freckles. "Maybe I should just come clean…"
Sorry, mate, Didn' mean it. Me bad, me bad. Don' blame Ivan for t'is, A'righ'?
What did she have to lose, anyway…?
The answer was nothing.
-IB—AFJ—
He only had one answer for that.
What? ?.?
-AFJ—IB—
Yeah, sorry, Al. =.3= On th'other hand… Hi! :.D
"That was a stupid lookin' smiley face~ I'm hungry~ Ivvvaaan~~ Where're me Potato Pierogi~~?"
"Be patient, Erin, you must learn patience, da?" Came the response from the kitchen.
And so Erin flopped back onto the couch with her Guinness and cigarette and was forced to 'learn patience'. I hate waitin'…
-IB—AFJ—
I'm still confused. Like waaaaaay confused. Who's this? And where's that asshole?
Alfred was making dinner for one. Tony usually stayed holed up in the lab when he wasn't off playing video games or doing one of his weird experiments on the local livestock, one it was.
"One is the loneliest number~ that you'll ever do~" He sang to himself getting out a new thing of napkins.
Tonight it was a couple of those instant chicken potpies. Yum~ He did miss having the big family meals all together in the living room or in the dining room at the big table. Those were nice times. But now even little Hawaii and Alaska were busy running their own governments. It was cute but…
He shook his head. No point in thinking about boring stuff! He had a microwave to watch!
-AFJ—IB—
I killed 'im 'cause he took too long with my feckin' dinner.
"An' that'll be th'reality if'n yeh don' hurry up, yeh t'ick feck! Mama wants some sugaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"
Da. Thought Ivan, putting the two dinners onto plates, She really is one of a kind…~
-IB—AFJ—
I'm still really confused. Who's this? Did you really kill him? Cuz that's not cool dude.
He ate slowly, watching the TV. Jersey Shore really is something~
-AFJ—IB—
Hmm… Who's t'say, amirite?
"Erin…" Said Ivan, after they began to eat their dinner, "Have you seen my phone? I cannot seem to locate it…"
"I denno!" She responded joyously, happily eating her delish dumplings. "It'll turn up, aye~?"
"da…" Chew chew chew.
-IB—AFJ—
He was putting dishes in the dishwasher, very specifically because he only cared about the order of two things: the linen closet on the second floor and the dishwasher. He got another text message.
Ukraine? Just tell me for God's sake! :/
-AFJ—IB—
Alfred Feckin' Jones I am very disappointed in yeh fer not knowin' yer own 'Auntie'. ;.P
"…Do you have my phone, Erin?"
". . . Naye…"
Aye…
-IB—AFJ—
I HAVE AN AUNT? WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?
He didn't have an aunt! He couldn't have! What kind of person would forget someone like that? And Alfred F Jones wasn't a forgetter!
-AFJ—IB—
Yer sucha t'ick feck… Kemmon, I used t'take care o' yeh (When I wasn't, y'know, stone cold drunk) and me ex-brother is yer kinda pappy! Okay, s'I ain' yer REAL auntie, but that's wot the '' was fer…
-.3-
"'Mericans can be so t'ick, yeh know~?"
"Chew with mouth closed, prasite…"
-IB—AFJ—
Alfred thought for a long time while he stared into the fridge, trying to get the Fridge Logic to kick in.
Are you one of Iggy's Brother's?. . . . . . . . . . . OH WAIT! You're that Ireland person! :D I got it~!
"WOO! Go Fridge Logic!"
"Shut the fuck up, Human Alfred."
"Oh. Hey Tony~ Do anything fun today?" He closed the fridge door, shivering a bit at the chill.
"No."
"Oh. Okay. You wanna watch a movie?"
"I have several samples of this 'peanut butter' in my fucking lab. Do you think I have the time to watch a goddamn movie?"
"Guess not." Alfred watched the little gray alien as he walked back to the lab door. "And don't stay up too late~!"
Alfred was once again alone.
-AFJ—IB—
Ding ding ding! Brain cells that work! Claps fer yeh! So, yeah~ Don't take Ivan's chance t'meet part o' his back away~~ Please~~? Fer Aunty Erin~~? :.)
"Send!" Erin bellowed as Ivan washed the dishes before she realized what she was doing, "Oh. Oops."
"So you do have my Cellular phone?" Ivan questioned, not looking up from the dishes.
"Only for a short time…"
"Do not try the cute face. I cannot even see your face and I can tell you are making the cute face."
"Are yeh mad at me~?"
"Nyet."
"Good~" And she began to walk closer, wrapping her arms around his waist, pleased with the squeak it received. "'Cause I've been missin' yeh somet'in' awful…~"
"…~"
-IB—AFJ—
Okay, okay~ he can come and meet Alaska. But make sure he's here, at my house, next week around 2 on Monday. Alaska's plane gets in at 3 and I need to go over the ground rules before that.
So. Erin was at the russki's house. But why? Were they dating? Probably. Alfred sat down and flipped on the TV. Maybe I'll just leave that question for tomorrow…
-AFJ—IB—
"Oh, is this your plan, then…~?"
"We're jes friends, love~"
"I know…~"
"Here's yer phone~~"
J;lkhdsjkbhliuhwpuhcccccccccccp
-IB—AFJ—
Alfred looked at the gibberish.
"Huh. They must have dropped it or something." He shrugged and finished his episode of Family Guy.
-AFJ—IB—
This is a collaboration of my friend and I. She acts in place of Ivan and a slew of other characters as I act as Alfred and a bunch of other characters.
We hope you all like it a lot~
-VG4455