Canada stared at the bear in front of him. Kumajiro stared back. Probably because he had nothing better to do.
"Hey, Kumajiro…" the Canadian intoned, "What can I do to get people to notice me?"
The bear tilted his head, "Do something to prove you are Canada."
"But I already tried that," he rolled onto his back, "and nothing changed," Pushing the glasses back onto his face he looked up as Kumajiro walked past him, "Hey, where are you going?"
"I'm hungry. Why don't you make me something?"
Canada sighed and got up off the floor, following his pet into the kitchen. What on earth was he going to do? Hardly anyone even knew he existed, let alone recognized him. And when they did recognize him they almost always thought he was America anyway.
Removing a box of pancake mix he gazed at it for a bit, still lost in his thoughts. Then his eyes widened as a plan slowly etched its way into his conscious. That was it!
"And that's why I think we should open up a trade route to Mars!"
Everyone in the room stared at America, each trying to process how any of what he had said made sense. It didn't work, and the whole room exploded in an uproar. Canada sat off to the side, watching it happen and waiting for his chance.
"America!" England screamed, "What the hell kind of a plan is that!"
"A perfectly good one! Tony helped me with it!"
The rest of the congregation groaned at the mention of America's supposed 'Alien Friend'. As most of them had never seen it before, they all assumed it was a figment of his imagination.
"I don't care if your bloody alien wants a secure route back home! We are not opening up a route to a goddamn planet!"
Slowly Canada reached into his bag, gripping the sole component of his plan tightly. He just had to wait for the perfect moment…
"Why not? Aliens are people too!"
"Yes, America. About as much as England's 'faerie friends' are!"
"Shut up, France!"
"Yeah, shut up, France! Just because England has some problems doesn't mean that Tony isn't real!"
"No one asked you, America!"
Yes… here it was…
America was cut off as a very large, and very syrupy pancake landed right in the middle of his face. The room fell silent and then-
"Holy shit- FOOD FIGHT!!!" Taking up the call Prussia jumped on the table and, grabbing a donut, chucked it in any random direction. Unfortunately, that direction happened to occupied by a certain surly Southern Italian. Romano leaped up, screaming Italian profanities, and threw a bagel back at Prussia's head. The albino nation ducked, and the food object went sailing over him to hit Korea instead. Grinning he took it as a perfect opportunity to make a grab at China's chest.
As the two Asian nations went tumbling to the ground, China's ever-present bowl of sweets went flying, showering Poland with multi-colored candies. Growling something about just getting his hair done he tossed a handful away from him onto the floor. And like any good Italian, Veneciano was in just the right place to trip on it. In a desperate attempt to stay up right he made a grab for the table… and knocked a pitcher of water over his head. Of course while all this was happening, donuts, bagels, butter pats, a piece or two of France's clothing were soaring through the room. Canada was extremely pleased with himself at the outcome. Germany was not.
"EVERYONE CALM DOWN, AND BE QUIET!!"
Everything stopped and Germany adjusted his tie, "These meetings are for discussing official business. Not for behaving like children," With this he shot a look at his brother. The Prussian merely smiled, the Gilbird, covered in what looked like strawberry jam, chirping on his shoulder, "Now, I believe before we commence we should weed out the one who started this mess."
A murmur swept through the room, heads turning this way and that. Canada tightened his grip on Kumajiro and closed his eyes. After so long he was finally going to be recognized!
Unanimously, every nation in the room said, "America."
America stood up, "What?!"
Canada's eyes opened, What?!
But everyone agreed. America was obviously responsible.
"No way, guys!" he protested, "I was the first one to get hit!"
"But couldn't America have hit himself in the face, just to create a commotion?" Russia asked sweetly. The room fell quiet as they noticed the powdered sugar from a donut decorating his nose and cheek, "So let's say it was America and drop it, yes?"
Mumbling in agreement the world sat back down to get on with the meeting. And Canada sat there, no one aware of his obvious distress. How could his plan have failed? It was perfect! But not perfect enough for America's predisposition for idiocy. He slumped in his seat, snuggling his face into Kumajiro's soft white fur.
With slow steps Canada walked from the meeting room, his feet dragging and his head low. Not that anyone would have noticed. What on earth could he do now? That was his second plan tried, his second plan failed. And it was hard enough to come up with those two!
He gritted his teeth together. What would it take to get him noticed? That's it. If hey was ever going to get noticed, he was going to have to do something really crazy… Well, crazier then throwing a pancake at America.
A hand tapped him on the shoulder and before he could change his mind or see who it was he locked their lips together.
"Woah… I totally knew it was you who threw the pancake!"
Canada straightened his glasses to get a look at who exactly he had proved his presence to, "Prussia?"
"That was the most delicious thing I have ever tasted!!" Prussia grabbed his arm and started dragging him through the hall, "You need to make more. For the awesome me! And the almost-as-awesome Gilbird! HAHA!"
"W-wait!" he said, trying to keep his balance, "How did you know it was me?"
"Because you taste like it, of course! Now come on, Canada! You are going to be my pancake slave!"
A look of shock crossed over Canada's face. Prussia had just said his name! He knew who he was! Of course he would have to figure out how to get out of the whole 'pancake slave' thing, but that could wait for later.
He looked down at Kumajiro and smiled, "Mission accomplished!"