I know I'm starting this, and I still have the friggin' states thingy, but, I, just, it... IT WAS TOO BRILLIANT. ;;

America: Uh oh. Dude, am I, like, gonna get my ass kicked in this one, too?

Me: Nope! You're gonna be a main character! :D

England: ... I read the description. I'm assuming that I'm the one who screws up?

Me: Yup! \(^u^)/ You're so smart, Iggy.

England: Why the bloody hell do I have to f*ck up every time? And why are you censoring me?

Me: Because I'm too lazy to think of a better excuse! :D And... because... I'm mainstream?

America: I'm still worried about my safety. Dude, are you sure I'll be okay?

Me: Nope! Anyways, I don't own hetalia!

America: *gulp*

England strode precariously into the room, the virus he'd contracted making him stumble. I finally got some peace and quiet with no conferences, and I contract the bloody flu?

Although he usually wouldn't attempt to fix his normal, everyday problems with black magic, he couldn't take this damned cold any longer. Not to mention, there was a meeting tomorrow! He shuffled over to his bookshelf, and tore a fat book from it's shelves. Flying mint bunny approached him, frowning, and saying, "You're sick, Arthur! You should get some rest."

Arthur shook his head, and mumbled, "I *sniff* can't. The meeting's *sniff* tomorrow."

He flipped open the book, and scanned it's pages for a few moments. This was a famous spell, used often, though he'd still have to be careful. Of course, he needed to give to get, so he was pretty sure that he'd bestow his crappy illness onto some poor, unsuspecting, innocent citizen.
He didn't particularly care.

After all, what's the worst thing they could be stopped from doing? He was a nation, after all! He had important things to do!

He began in a hushed whisper, standing in the middle of the circle he'd drawn on his basement floor long ago.

Speaking Olden English, he slowly got louder, until a small cough also began to rise in his throat. F*ck! I can't cough, I'll mess up the entire spell! But it's too late to go back now!

He tried to suppress the urge to start hacking, but inevitably, he threw himself into a horrendous coughing fit, spluttering everywhere.

FLASH!

England awoke from, apparently, his unconsciousness. "The... I... what?" dazed, he looked around at his unfamiliar surroundings, trying to work out what happened.

Click!

That was the sound of the gears in his head clicking into place. Some onomatopoeia? I spelled that right. Impressive, huh? Well, on the second try, at least...

England was in his large, plush couch, with his fairy friends watching over him protectively. "England... we're glad your okay! We thought you might have to miss the meeting!"

England shot up, looking at his fictional friends, still staring at him with concern. "The meeting! What happened? How long was I out?"

Flying Mint Bunny sighed, and said, "England, you tried that spell. I think it worked, because you sound better. We dragged you up here, with Captain Hook's help. You've been unconscious for about three hours."

England took a moment to process this, then said, "Thank you, everyone! I don't know what I would have done without you!" grinning, he began to gloat, "But this is why you shouldn't tell me not to use magic! It works fine."

"I sure hope so," murmured Tinkerbell, shaking her head disapprovingly.

THE NEXT MORNING. (I know, my pacing is horrible, and I write like a half-dead, blind, deaf, baby worm.)

Germany was just beginning to stir when a horrendous squealing noise hit his ears. His eyes flashed opened, and he leaped out of bed, frantically calling Italy's name. "ITALY? ITALY? Vhere are you!?"

He flung open the door to the bathroom, and there, waiting for him, was a... wolf!?

"AAAH! A DOG!" the wolf yipped at him.

"Vait... DID YOU EAT ITALY!?"
At this, the canine whimpered, clearly terrified. But who wouldn't be? Germans really are scary when they're mad. That's why I should of taken German instead of Mandarin. That, or the fact that my Mandarin teacher SUCKS. But, I DIGRESS.

And so, the big scary Ludwig, angry as he was, couldn't manage to catch that damned wolf.
"Verdammt!* Get back here! I WILL VILL AVENGE YOU, ITALY!"

But it was as though the wolf had contracted super speed. It raced away from Germany so fast that it was a blur. I've had some calculations done, and I've discovered that his top speed was 723 mph.
Italy... only Italy could retreat like that.

He threw himself into the kitchen, and found the wolf chomping down on some left over pasta Italy must've left out overnight. Germany's emotions almost bubbled over. "YOU ATE ITALY! A-and... he still calls for pasta..." he screeched again, pouncing upon the canine, and trying desperately to punch him, only resulting in him falling on his face as the wolf sped away.

"ITAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

Britain glanced at the clock. 7:14. Almost every nation in the UN was crowded around a long, white table, waiting irritably for the Northern Italy, Germany, Spain, Romano, America, France, and South Korea to arrive.

"I understand why that git America isn't here, but Germany? I could understand the others running late, too, but... Germany?" he announced blatantly, unsure who to bicker with, because France wasn't there.

By 7:30, England was beginning to worry. Clearly, the spell had to have done something.

That's when Germany came in.

"Italy's dead! A-a-a-a wolf ate h-him!"

In unison, all of the other nations screamed, "WHAT!?"

"I-I-I-I.. I don't know! I just w-woke up, and he wasn't there!" There was a lot more grief in Germany's tone than Britain expected.
The nations all erupted into loud speculations and propositions.

"The wolf couldn't have eaten him entirely, aru!"

"What!? Italy's dead? What about Romano?"

"What happened to the others?"

"There would be human remain! It does not make any sense, aru!"

"Are you sure?"

Germany told him exactly what happened, when some idiot chimed in with a

"DUDE? ITALY SLEEPS IN YOUR BED!?"

"This is all very strange, da? I wonder if they died... if so, no need to grieve. You will all join them soon!"

An ear-splitting screech interrupted the country's blabbing. Everyone turned to look at the door, and the splattered torso which flattened itself against the glass window.

"Craa..."

and slid to the floor.

Alfred stared up at that damned door. Stupid door. Stupid Iggy. Stupid self. Stupid... state-of-being.

He stubbornly flapped to his feet, pathetically doing his best to regain his balance. His eyes focused on the door nob, attempting to laser-beam it, causing it to smolder and die painfully, then, finally, letting him in. At least, that was his theory.

I am the world's strongest SUPER POWER. I don't CARE if I'm in debt to China, and I don't CARE if Obama is pissed about me not turning in my paperwork for seven months. You, door, are NO MATCH for me. SO LET ME IN. I swear to God...

Open.

Open.

Open.

DO NOT RESIST MY WILL.

The door was, of course, terrified of America's threats, and soon obliged. Well, Switzerland did, at least.
"Who the hell is ou-" Switzerland blinked, staring down at the small, stark figure lying at his feet.
"Who the is it? The frog?" England called from inside.

America whirled around, his gaze now sharpening onto England's face.

Damn, America marveled, I have some impressive eyesight.

He could literally see England's pores as clearly as if they were a black burger on a white mountain of sugar.
It wasn't attractive.

But, really, he could see everything.

"Is that a bloody eagle?"

To that, America replied with deafening caw.

Switzerland nodded, "I'll chase the damn thing away. Even though it's claws are pretty big." and so, Switzerland whipped out a shotgun, and pointed it directly at the bird's face.

Alfred didn't approve.

And so, he panicked.

A lot.

"CREEE! CAAAAAAAAAH! CRAAAAAAAAAAAAW! CREEAH! CAH!"

He flapped his broad wings, somehow managing to slip clumsily past Switzerland, who fired his inevitable warning shot, causing every nation, including Alfred, to hit the floor.

England didn't approve, either. He was focusing on the worst possible outcome of this situation, but there was that undeniable reasoning in his mind that it was probably just some prank America set up. Letting loose a Bald Eagle... hah-hah, Alfred. Hilarious.

America opened his wings, still frantic from the terrifying noise, which was even louder to his keen eagle senses.
How do I use these damn things? Oh crap, his gun's up aga-AAAAH!

Switzerland fired yet another warning shot, directly at the ceiling. "Sw-Switzerland-kun, please stop shooting..." desperately, Japan looked to Liechtenstein for help. "P-please, Liechtenstein-chan, p-please ask your brother to stop..."

Liechtenstein, however, had already gladly filled out that request. "Big Bruder, that's loud..."

Her endearing-ness was too much for poor ol' Switzy.

Anyways, America was just sitting on the table. Y'know. Having a mini-heart attack, and trying to beat his wings.
I swear, Iggy, if that magic crap you talk about is true, you are SO getting a nuclear bomb dropped on your ass.

Suddenly, America was yanked into the air by something. AAAH! in his terror, he beat his wings, only to realize that, he was, in fact, flying.

Oh. So that's how you use these things.

Even so, his first flight as an eagle was extremely brief- He quickly fell back onto the table that the nations were sitting around. You know, mainly because he wasn't an eagle. And didn't know how to adjust his tail feathers. Or wings. Or how to fly like that at all.

"America!" Mexico screamed in irritation, "I swear, if you don't get your stupid bird out of here, I will feed him to Hong Kong!"

Hong Kong looked up from the phone he was fiddling with. "Hey! I don't eat eagle... d*ck."

That's when, suddenly, a bit of human intelligence broke through the shock of... you know... being an eagle, and America hopped up, smoothing out his feathers, and clearing his throat. Oh, I'm sorry, I mean, gurgled and cawed some more.

Oh, yeah. They don't know it's me. I guess that's why the Taxi guy panicked when I got in his car... so... I write it?

America frowned, and stared around the room. Everyone was looking at him, still confused as to why America still had this stupid prank going on.

THERE.

Using his eagle-eye superpowers (heh) he'd spotted Hong Kong, who was aimlessly screwing around with his Iphone. Screeching a battle cry, Alfred pshed off of the table and gave his great wings a single beat, half-jumping and half-skidding across to the poor, unsuspecting nation, and snatching Hong Kong's phone away from him.
"HEY! AMERICA! YOUR STUPID BIRD STOLE MY PHONE!" He swiped out with his fist.
Bad move.

America swiped back with his talon, cutting Hong Kong, and leaving a gash across his hand.
"Ow!"
There was a scuffle as Hong Kong desperately tried to snatch his phone away from America, but he was just too quick, however uncoordinated and clumsy he happened to also be. Giving four quick flaps of his wings, Alfred managed to escape to a small shelf jutting out of the wall, which, surprisingly, he'd never noticed before. All the while, he screeched, and Hong Kong screeched back.

"GIVE ME MY PHONE! I WILL MURDER YOU!" Hong Kong screamed in pure rage.
Eagmerica... didn't...

America didn't consent to Hong Kong's demands, so he proceeded to try and type with his large, sharp beak, which was designed to eat mice. Not really cut out for typing. Oh well. After about five minutes, he'd managed to type out this:

utry mehrru amimrca.

Damn it! Why couldn't Hong Kong have brought a tablet?

He clumsily smashed his beak into the *delete* button, scratching Hong Kong's pride and joy.

He tried once again, carefully, oh-so-slowly, pressing just the tip of his bill against each singly character.

Here's what he came up with:

ehngld ists m amerca

Sighing... or, whatever an eagle did when they were exasperated, America turned back to the room full of nations. He opened his wings a bit, closing his scaly toes around the phone, trying his best not to touch any buttons. Finally taking in one more breath, he hurled himself into the air, flapping his wings repeatedly and spiraling out of control. To his surprise, however, he managed to stay in the air, even though he wasn't really working off anything. No thermals in a conference room.

He wasn't flying.

He was falling.

With style.

Hey, I'm getting pretty good at this!

He flipped out of control, then spotting his target, quickly straightened his body into an aerodynamic shape, and hurtled towards England at full speed, raking his claws past him, narrowly missing his arm, and dropping the phone, with surprising accuracy, in front of him.

He flapped again, quickly regaining air to avoid a very pissed off Hong-Kong, and zipping back to his perch upon the ugly, but private, white shelf.

He shuffled over to peek at his former-caretaker, whom was peering down in disbelief at Hong Kong's phone.

His fears had been confirmed.

The actual message read:

ehngld ists m amerca fghnjshjnkdghbmkdn gdfgdr84t55nnfhgddbn9

But he knew what it meant.
Uncertainly, England cast a look upwards, to behold the sight of an extremely pissed off Hong Kong grabbing his phone back.

England took a moment to process this information.

"Hong Kong... did you... help America with this prank?" he asked, observing how Hong Kong was carefully inspecting every fresh scratch, newly imprinted into his precious phone.

Hong Kong glared daggers at England, and, still cradling his precious baby in one hand, spat, "That d*ck scratched my phone. So, no, I didn't help him commit this... injustice."

America snorted from his bird's-eye view (heh), but flinched when a terrible sound shook the very foundation everyone was standing on.

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

AAAH! Wh-what the hell, is there an earthquake coming? What is that? Guys, what do we do? I can't do anything, I'm just a bird! I can't speak, what do we- in the midst of yet another panic attack, Alfred realized nobody else was surprised to hear the sound of this... invasion.

"I'm going to kill those bastards!"

America let out another caw, and launched himself off the shelf in an attempt to swoop down to the door. He overestimated his skills and sped, completely out of control, down to the floor.

Regaining his composure, he went into a dive, heading straight for the conference door, the thundering footsteps striking fear into his heart every time they sounded.

America never realized his sharp eagle senses picked up the sounds that the nations couldn't.

In a flurry of rapid-fire wing beats, he arrived at the door, looked around in terror, only to realize no one was paying him any attention. Apparently, nobody heard his caws.
So, in one deep breath, he let out another ear-splitting scream, causing everyone on the block to pause for at least one minute and wonder what made that god-awful noise.

"SCCCCCCCREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEE! "

The nation's ears rung, and there was silence in the conference room.

After two minutes, finally, Austria broke it with a simple, "Ow."

Yeah, I bet that music wasn't pleasant, dumbass, but there's an ANGRY ROMANO, AND SH*T'S GONNA GO DOWN!

When he realized the thundering stomps were getting closer and closer every second, he recoiled, beating his wings desperately to gain air, fighting for altitude, just to make it back to his ledge of indefinite safety. He flapped with all his might, screeching one last warning, and just in time, made it to his safety bunker- I mean, shelf. Romano was gonna go Mafia on Britain's ass. Right after America caused a nuclear holocaust.

Well, it was nice knowing you, Iggy.

That was when one pissed-off looking Romano burst into the room, with an unrealistically happy bull trailing behind him, wielding the rooster which had been riding on his back.

Iggy had changed Spain, Italy, America, and France into their national animals.

And don't even get me started on South Korea.

Basically,

the sh*t was hitting the fan.

It wasn't good.

Me: Well, that was stupid!

England: Why must I be the one that has to die?

Me: Because, Iggy, you turned everyone into animals!

England: Don't call me that.

Me: No.

Iggy: Hey, no- oh, real mature!

Me: Shut up, Arthur! Important announcement time!

America: I'm a bird, weee~

Italy: VEEEE~ I'M DEAD!?

Me: No, Italy, you're a wolf, now let me-

Greece: ... I would like to be a cat... zzz...

Me: SHUT UP! So, I'll try to post at least one chapter for both stories every week, which is a LOT slower than what was basically my, 'every other day' schedule for the Hetalia States. I just needed to make this! xD I also will try to get some other nations to turn into their animals. I dunno. Suggest some? XD

Japan: Wow, Julia-san, you wrote 3,000 words in one chapter!

Me: It's more than two average chapters' length in Hetalia States! xD Aaaand now it's 12:50 AM T-T

China: Can I be a panda? Or Hello Kitty, aru?

Me: Nope! Possibly, a dragon. Oh, and Scotland's definitely gonna become a unicorn.

Please Review! I own nothing!

*Damn!