Germany banged his head against the wall before ripping open the door. Hot sauce. He immidiately knew who the culprit was, but he'd confront him later. Instead, he ran down the stairs, right past Prussia, and for the fridge. He took the milk carton from the fridge, and he had the decency to pour it into a glass. He soon drank it all down before pouring himself another. "I %#$@ing-" A gulp of the milk. "hate you."
o.o.o.o.o.o.o
Hungary rolled off the couch and onto the floor, staring at the ceiling. Okay, she was tired and bored. Definately not a good combination. She looked around, spotting the telephone. She plugged it back into the wall before pondering over who she should call. She could call Prussia, but she had spoken to him only so long ago. Meh, she still felt like it. She dialed in his number and held the phone to her ear, though her head soon buried itself into the armrest.





