A/N: So, I kinda did one of these for Les Mis... and then I decided to make one for APH too!

And 'cause it's Bastille Day, France gets the lead in this song!

Also, if there is a Broadway showtune you want featured, just say what song you want it to be in your review, or message/email me!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is not mine.

Song: "The Creation of Man" from The Scarlet Pimpernel


As England entered the Allies' meeting the morning, he had no idea what was going to be in store for him.

France was there in his flamboyant blue and red ensemble, and, as always, tut-tutting England's fashion sense.

"Really, England, do you ever change your clothes," France said as he shook his head.

"But this is my uniform... I'm kinda supposed to wear it all the time, y'know..." Arthur replied. If he had ten quid for every time he had this conversation...

"It's so unstylish, though. Even America has some fur on his bomber jacket to make his outfit look a little more lively!"

"Uh... thanks?" America was not sure if he should be flattered or not.

France forced England down into a swivel chair, "Peacocks!"

England looked skyward, "Sink me..."

France smiled, "Thank you, sir. How those feathered boys love to flaunt their tails!"

Russia grinned creepily at the frumpy limey, "Stallions!"

England's bottom lip wobbled. "Zounds, sir!" he squeaked.

France spun the chair around so England was facing him, "Hounds, sir! Stags! Of the goosie and the gander, sir, whose gender is the grander, sir? To render total candor, sir, the splendor is the male's!"

England tried to get out of the chair, "What? Man's duty is to wield the sword, defend the cave!"

France sighed, "No, mon petit fromage, a male's duty is to uphold the banner of beauty! And you, representing the uh..." France coughed, "glorious nation of the United Kingdom, must lead the way! Be an example to your sex; give your boot a dapper strap."

China chimed in, "And it's smarter if your garter has some snap!"

"Cravats should be flounced about our necks!" England said sarcastically.

France facepalmed, letting the other nations help England with his fashion problems.

America went behind his former father figure and smoothed out the back of the latter's coat, "Let the royal coattails flap!"

"Be bewitching with some stitching on your cap!" Russia tried.

China held out England's arm, "Now drape your cape and puff your cuff... embroider those lapels!"

France did not think it was possible to ruin England's fashion sense even more, but as he stood back and watched the other three allies try to help, he knew he had to step in - and quick.

France helped England out of the chair, "Be the king of the beasts in pastels! La but someone has to strike a pose-"

"And bear the weight of well-tailored clothes!" America smiled.

"And that is why the Lord created... men!" Russia grinned as only Russia can.

England wiggled himself free of France's grip, "Your a nincompoop, France."

France bowed, "Why, thank you sir."

"Always said you were, always said 'leave the fancy dress to the women!' Let me be a Roman, don a tunic... Bear the legs, eh?"

France giggled and looked back at America, Russia, and China, "Sink me, the man's lost his senses! Bare legs!" France went behind England and straightened his back so that he had correct posture, "Strut sir!"

England looked back at France, "What sir?"

France reasoned, "Roosters do! Give a cock his comb and the hens will pale!"

"Bucks!" America yelled.

"Bulls!" followed China.

France nodded approvingly at the two aforementioned countries, "Boars, sir! Rams! Of the nanny-goat and billy, sir, whose beard is fully wooly, sir? It's bully for the billy for he's willy-nilly male!"

England sighed, "Well, the male animal is dashing of course: robin's redbreast, moose with antlers..."

France smiled, "Sir, be a lion-hearted prig!"

"Oh like my dear old King Richard the Third?"

"Exactement! Fill those pantaloons with light!" France was elated.

"I could dangle down a spangle... out of sight," England said sneakily.

"Mais oui! Be bold, sir!"

"When it's cold, slap on that wig," Russia thought he was starting to get the hang of things, "draw your breeches in quite tight."

France liked that Russia was trying to help, "Even more so and your torso will ignite! Now smock your frock, perfume your plume!"

"I'll let my waistcoast swing?" England inquired.

France shrugged, "And the jungle will bow to its king! La but someone has to strike a pose-" he nudged America, who was starting to doze off.

"AND BEAR THE WEIGHT OF WELL-TAILORED CLOTHES!" America yelled, startled.

Russia was excited for his line, "And that is why the Lord created men!"

England was just about convinced, but then he thought, "Now, strange... there's nothing about it in the books of Genesis..."

France rolled his eyes, "Genesis? Ah, but think sir, Adam was a gentleman in Eden. Though his body was admired, you would grant the adding of a fig leaf was inspired."

"Oh, a fig leaf did just the job..." England said bitingly.

France decided to change the subject, "If you're out to make a splash, cheri, do know your haberdashery!"

America listed off what accessories he knew, "Buttons, buckles, ruffles, and lace!"

"Represent the human race!" Russia yelled.

The four other nations stared at him in silence for a couple of minutes before France broke the awkward silence.

"LA... BUT... someone has to stroke a pose and bear the weight of well-tailored clothes! Each species needs a sex that's fated to be highly decorated!" France helped England onto the conference room table.

"That is why the Lord created... MEN!" Russia redeemed himself.

All of a sudden, the door opened, revealing Canada.

"Hey, guys! Did I miss anything?" he asked.

The five major Allies looked at each other and smiled, "Nope."