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Alfred F. Jones [ America ]
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The American beamed, his bomber jacket still crinkled from the commotion. "The hero always needs a big appearance!" He proclaimed, his fist pumping the air. Alfred thought hard, staring above to the cracked stone ceiling. "Well, before we knew it, you kinda got injected with a needle by the cupcake-smelling guy, apparently named Oliver. You had this smile on your face too, and I swear it gave even me chills. Then a girl came named Emma, and she looked a bit like Katie. She was terrifying. And then some guy came who looked a lot like me. I think his name was Al or something, and he had this baseball bat covered in nails. Also, right before I passed out I heard Matthew. Then the last thing I remember is swallowing one of Oliver's cupcakes, and waking up here." America rushed, rambling about the recent events with a distant gaze. "The cupcake tasted good though." He admitted sheepishly. He turned to face Pikati staring at them madly, as if guarding them, and then to the Canadian and Katie sitting farther away. "Matthew, Katie, you're here! I have no idea where we are at the moment," answered the American officially, his eyes downcast and his tone deflated.
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