A/N - Hey guys! First of all, for those who read Duties, the last chapter is in progress and now that I'm not working on this, it'll be up before too long. But aside from that, this fic was stupidly hard to write and I would have completely failed without the help of an online rhyming dictionary (though I wrote parts of this without it, so I can do it if I try!). This isn't perfect and you're going to have to be inventive with stresses sometimes, though I think most of the verses sound good. But hopefully the story will make up for that anyway! So I hope you enjoy my little festive fic and have a happy Christmas and a wonderful New Year!

How Prussia Stole Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas in Europe one year
Not a nation was stirring, and midnight was near
Even Sealand was tucked up and sleeping in bed
…wait, this opening's not Seuss – forget what I said

Every nation in Europe loved Christmas a lot
But one country, who lived with his brother, did not
He had always detested the whole celebration
But no one cared since he's no longer a nation

"Oi, that was just mean – I was great at one time."
What the-? Who are you, interrupting my rhyme?!
"I'm Prussia, you moron: the star of this show.
Hey England, is that you?" You idiot, no!

"You liar, no one else could have eyebrows that big.
So tell me, why the fuck are you wearing that wig?"
Shut up, it makes me feel more like a narrator
Now piss off, you wanker, I'll deal with you later!

So as I was saying, one nation was moaning
That the presents he got were just never worth owning
It was too bloody cold, and the carols were crap
And it cost far too much; there was too much to wrap

This idiot would have been whining all day
But Germany, sick of it, sent him away
And so Prussia, the Scrooge I was talking about
(Just in case you somehow hadn't figured that out)
Went outside to sulk more as he plodded along
And then – oh shit, this verse is now two lines too long!

So anyway, Prussia walked through the thick snow
He wondered what he could do, where he could go
And he thought and he thought, and then suddenly knew
Exactly what dastardly deeds he would do

"I've got it!" he shouted, while punching the air
"I'll steal away Christmas! The whole daft affair!
I'll show them what happens when they buy me socks!
I'll climb down their chimneys and unpick their locks,

I'll steal all the presents and stockings and trees
From the Germans and Spaniards and Poles and Chinese!
OK, maybe not China – it's too far away
But Europe at least will have no Christmas Day."

And the poor passers-by could do nothing but stare
As he plotted out loud on the way to his lair
And he – hang on, a lair? Where could he have a lair?
"That's for me to know, England, and not you – so there."

Well, somehow this git had a cave or a hall -
"It's a lair!" Don't lie – shit, we just broke the fourth wall!
"It was already broken. No need to freak out.
So just carry on going." But Prussia–! "Don't shout."

Fine, I'll keep on narrating, but don't interrupt
So anyway, Prussia's small heart was corrupt
Well, it always had been, but now even more so
As he entered his lair and he shut out the snow

"There's a few things I need," he said, looking around.
"First a sleigh and some reindeers to get off the ground
Then some really big sacks for the presents and trees
Oh, and maybe a rope to climb down the chimneys."

He searched for a sleigh and a reindeer to fly it
The latter was easy – his Gilbirds could try it
He made some small pairs of antlers for his birds
Who all looked like they thought the idea was absurd

And then Prussia decided to make his own sleigh
Out of cardboard and duct tape and papier-mâché
Did he really think Gilbirds could lift up that box?
I guess he was stupid. "No – just sick of socks."

When he'd finished, he stared at his sleigh with delight
It was crimson with 'Prussia rulez' written in white
He attached the reigns – Gilbirds were cheeping with dread –
And leapt into it, grinning with glee, then he said:

"On, Gilbird! And Gilbird and Gilbird and Gilbird!
And Gilbird and Gilbird and Gilbird and Gilbird!"
Why didn't he give his chicks more than one name?
I think I can tell you – he's fucking insane

And yet somehow, that sleigh rose up into the sky
And I'm losing all faith in this story – God, why?
But the Gilbirds were flapping and flapping away
Until they broke physics and lifted the sleigh

It was magical up in the cold, starlit sky
It filled Prussia with glee, and he let out a cry:
"You're going down Santa – don't think you can win!"
And he steered the sleigh, heading straight down to Berlin

It was soon after this that he spotted his prey
And he cackled a little and steered down the sleigh
It made barely a sound on the cold snowy roof
Of the first of the victims of this Christmas spoof

And to whom, do you think, did this rooftop belong?
Well, you're probably not stupid, therefore not wrong
It was Germany's house – his own brother's abode
"We'll see who's on the naughty list now," Prussia crowed

But the chimney was narrow, how could Prussia fit?
And why didn't he just use the front door, that git?
"I lost my key – West wouldn't give me another."
I'm not surprised. Really, I pity your brother.

So Prussia now put on a jolly red suit
And a fake beard, then slid down the dark chimney chute
Wait, what? I'm not buying this, he's not that thin.
"It was magic." No, you found another way in.

But whatever, somehow he had entered the room
Where bright, twinkling fairy lights lit up the gloom
There were stockings and presents and candles – the lot
And, of course, there was sherry for Santa. "Jackpot!"

So at once Prussia got to work downing the booze
As his brother, upstairs, still continued to snooze
Then he started to put presents into his sack
Not realising someone was stood at his back

"Excuse me," a small voice said after a pause
"But I think that you're doing it wrong, Santa Claus.
You're supposed to give presents, not take them away."
Prussia turned round to see who had got in his way

It was Italy. Prussia frowned. Why was he there?
More importantly, why was he totally bare?
Prussia wasn't complaining, he quite liked the view
But he needed a lie, and a damn good one too

"Oh, uh," Prussia said, as he thought up one quick
"Well I'm sure that you recognise me as Saint Nick
'Cause I'm certainly not Prussia, nope, not at all.
See, the problem is, um, that your tree is too small

And I gave you the wrong presents, silly old me
So I'm taking them back, and I'm fixing your tree.
But don't worry, I'll bring them back later tonight
So go back to bed. Um. Ho ho ho. And goodnight."

Now if anyone else had heard that porky pie
They'd have known in an instant that it was a lie
There's no one else who would've Adam and Eve'd it
"That rhyming slang's real?" You better believe it.

But anyway, leaving the Cockney aside
Italy didn't realise that Prussia had lied
So he smiled and said "Thanks, Germany will be glad
That you've helped us so much." That poor, gullible lad

And so Italy happily went back upstairs
Leaving Prussia to go off and make the 'repairs'
And indeed Prussia went with the presents and tree
And the stockings and lights, right back up the chimney

And he loaded them onto the back of his sleigh
Laughing maniacally as he then went on his way
I feel sorry for Italy, really I do
Prussia can be a right twat sometimes. "So can you."

After that, Prussia flew through the dark, snowy night
To steal Christmas away from nations left and right
I don't know how he fit it all into his sleigh
Or how he robbed a whole continent in one day

But he visited Italy, England and Spain
…Oi, you bastard, that's my house! "Wait, I can explain!"
Oh, you're getting a bollocking later, just wait
"I'll buy you a drink?" Yeah, you bloody will, mate

So from Russia to France, Prussia flew through the air
As the countries slept on, they were all unaware
He stole everything Christmassy that he could find
And then took it away in the sleigh he'd designed

I'm not sure how he managed to fit it all in
Or how Gilbirds could carry it back to Berlin
But they managed somehow and they got to the lair
So that Prussia could bask in his victory there

"I'm so awesome!" he crowed as he looked at his work
"This'll teach Father Christmas, that stupid old jerk,
And those morons who think Christmas Day will be great
Will be sorry!" he said, and he sat down to wait

It was some hours later when morning began
Italy woke up, got out of bed and then ran
Into Germany's room where he jumped on the bed
And then, waking the other, he smiled and he said:

"Ve, ve. Germany, guess what happened last night!
I woke up and the snow had turned everything white
So I got up to look, then heard something downstairs.
It was Santa! He said your tree needed repairs

So he took it away, and the presents went too
Since he made a mistake, then he left and he flew!
I looked out of my window and saw him go by
In his sleigh, then he disappeared into the sky."

After this, Germany turned to look at the time
Then he yawned and asked "Why are you speaking in rhyme?"
But then froze as it dawned on him what he had heard
And he jumped out of bed to see what had occurred

He went down the stairs, Italy walking behind
And he entered the lounge, switched the light on to find
That the story was true, and the thing that concerned
Germany was that nothing had yet been returned

He asked Italy: "Do you know what's going on
And why everything that was here last night is gone?
Because I don't think Santa would do this, do you?"
Bloody Hell, it's about time someone got a clue!

But poor Italy didn't yet want to believe
That the kind, jolly Santa had had him deceived
"If we wait a while longer, he's sure to come back,"
He said desperately, "Bringing our stuff in his sack."

But they waited and waited, and nobody came
Though it slowly became clear that France was the same
When he called them to say that his Christmas had gone
Then some more Europeans each called one by one

By midday, all of Europe was cross and confused
World War Three looked more likely as states were accused
And North Italy started to feel more ashamed
As he felt like he shared a large part of the blame

If he'd woken up Germany after last night
And not gone back to bed, thinking it was all right
Then just maybe their Christmas would all be OK
And the fake Santa wouldn't have ruined their day

So when Germany started a meeting at two
To find out who had caused this whole dreadful to-do
Italy stood up, silencing Turkish and Greek
All the arguments stopped as he started to speak:

"I know everyone's upset and angry," he said
"But before all these arguments come to a head
I just wanted to say that I don't think it's right
That on Christmas Day we should be having a fight.

Just because all the tinsel and presents are gone
Doesn't mean everyone shouldn't all get along.
You see, Christmas is more than the gifts and the tree;
It's a time to spend with your friends and family."

There was silence – a pause after Italy's speech
As the nations considered what he'd tried to teach
And North Italy hoped they'd now all get along
But then Poland said, "That was, like, cute, but so wrong.

Do you think that my fabulous hair styles itself?
Girl, shut up, you know fashion is bought off a shelf.
It's, like, totally not cool if Christmas is not
An excuse to get stuff that'll make me look hot."

Then he flicked his hair, putting his hand on his hip
Russia nodded agreement and Spain bit his lip
Saying, "Sorry, I realise that we shouldn't shout
But you don't understand what this day is about

It's commercial – a time to buy crap and get fat
And you may think that's wrong, but we like it like that."
Then the others all nodded, agreeing with him
And poor Italy realised that he couldn't win

Even Germany couldn't look him in the eye
But he wouldn't give up; he'd continue to try
To make everyone happy on this Christmas Day
So he left them to bicker and went on his way

A while later he'd wandered quite far in the snow
As he wondered and pondered on where he should go
And on what he should do, then he suddenly thought
Of the countries he'd left as they'd shouted and fought

There was only one nation who hadn't been there
So he turned and he started towards Prussia's lair
Wait, hang on, how'd he know which direction to go?
"Did I say that my lair was a secret?" Well, no

He arrived at the lair fairly quickly and knocked
Then he waited as, slowly, the door was unlocked
It was Prussia, of course, looking very surprised
To see that it was Italy standing outside

"What are you doing here?" Prussia wanted to know
The reply: "Sorry, I didn't know where to go
But you weren't with the others, I was on my own
So I thought that, together, we won't be alone."

It was Christmas goodwill of the sort Prussia loathed
But he said, "Fine, come in, please just put on some clothes."
And then Italy realised he was indeed bare
Wait, so why didn't he freeze to death getting there?

And how come no one told him that he was still nude?
I mean, really, I know they were having a feud
But you wouldn't have thought they'd have been that distracted
(Or maybe in France's case, far too attracted)

But whatever, Italy entered the lair
Then he stopped, his jaw dropped and he stood and he stared
Prussia fidgeted slightly and shuffled away
He'd forgotten that he hadn't hidden the sleigh

It was parked in the centre of that very room
With the presents inside and his Santa costume
So he sidled in front of it, trying to hide
Any evidence that just could not be denied

It was too late, however; his secret was out
And the whole world would soon know without any doubt
It was Prussia who'd ruined the holiday season
And Italy now asked him what was his reason

"You don't understand," Prussia said in reply
"Just how much I hate Christmas – you want to know why?
It's because all the presents I get are so crap
And I really hate having to buy stuff and wrap

And I'm never invited to spend Christmas Day
With my so-called friends – not that I care anyway.
It's more fun to be by myself. Who needs those guys?
Definitely not me! Wait, something's in my eye."

And he turned away, wiping the tears from his face
But then suddenly found himself in an embrace
He looked down to see Italy hugging him tight
The small nation was touched by the story and sight

Of the tears that Prussia was trying to hide
Because Italy knew that the Prussian had lied
And that really, the other was very lonely
He said, "This year, then, you can spend Christmas with me."

Then he smiled up at Prussia while still clinging on
At those words, Prussia's 'bah humbug' mindset was gone
I don't know what he thought of the hug, but they say
That the Prussian's small heart grew three sizes that day

"Wait, you what? No it didn't, you're blatantly lying!"
Oh, Prussia, for God's sake, you're not even trying
"But really, that's not how biology works!"
But this is a poem – that's one of the perks

You can make it all up and as long as it rhymes
It's OK. Now shut up or I'll kick your behind.
Oh, now look what you've done – you've just ruined the mood
The feel-good Christmas spirit is totally screwed

"Do I look like I care?" Oh, you bloody will later
Just wait until I've finished with you, you traitor
But right now, I'll try to get back to my tale
About how Christmas morals will always prevail

And so Italy somehow had opened a door
And shown Prussia the light he had ignored before
Maybe Christmas, he thought, isn't always a chore
Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more

So he sent out a message to Europe to say
'Look, I'm sorry I nicked off with your Christmas Day
But I've realised that Christmas is something to share
So come over to party with me in my lair.'

So the others all came – they forgave him, of course
Well, at first they were pissed off, but he showed remorse
And they wanted to get all their gifts back from him
So they had to behave or they wouldn't get in

Then they partied and danced and drank into the night
And they opened their gifts at the stroke of midnight
Liechtenstein got a ribbon and France got a rose
Belarus and Ukraine each got beautiful bows

And I think that it's time for an ending to this
Before Prussia butts in again to take the piss
So please think about this poem after I leave
And- "Wait, hang on, you didn't say what I received!"

Oh, uh, Prussia, I didn't know you were still here
"Spill! What were the presents they gave me that year?"
Um, I don't really know… "You're a really bad liar."
I'm sure it was something you really desired!

"We'll see." Hey, wait, give me that! Don't steal my script!
"You don't need it now, plus it was already ripped.
Let me see. Hey, it does say! I opened my box…
Oh you've got to be shitting me. They gave me socks?!"

Don't glare at me, I didn't write this, you know
"What the Hell kind of ending is this? Damn, this blows!
You know what? Fuck the morals, what Spain said was true:
If you don't get good presents then Christmas is poo."

Just ignore him! He's bitter. But everyone ought
To believe in the message that Italy taught
He was right when he said that we need to care less
About commercialism and all of the stress

We just need to remember what Christmas is for
That is, spending the day with those whom we adore
Even Prussia was capable of Christmas cheer
"Dude, fuck that, I'm so blowing up Christmas next year."