"Oooooooh... Caaaaaanadaaaaaa..."
Mathew sighed, rolled over, and cracked open one eye. His digital clock beeped his nation's anthem at 7:15 AM, every morning. He slapped the red maple-leaf button to make it shut up.

Ahhh... Silence.

He stretched in his bed, enjoying the cool temperature of the morning air. He rubbed his eyes and sat up once his post-awakening grogginess wore off.

A quick survey of the room told that the same familiar lumps and fuzzy globs of furniture were still there. If Canada squinted his eyes just right, he could make out some details of the lumps, but he still needed his glasses.

He gently swung his legs out of bed and felt around his end table until he found his glasses. He gently slid them over his ears and blinked a bit to adjust his eyes.

A tiny white polar bear poked up his head up from under the covers of the warm, snuggley bed. He gave a huge, adorable yawn and sleepily said "Who are you?"

Canada gave his customary sigh, and with a small laugh said "Good morning… I'm Canada, remember? Now go back to sleep." And with that, the tiny bear wiggled back under the covers.

Canada slipped out of his moose-pajama pants and slid on some jeans. He normally slept in a white undershirt, so he just threw a sweatshirt on over it- he didn't have any plans for the day.

He walked into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. His golden blond hair was a complete and total wreck this morning. He sighed and attempted to comb it, settling for only a little messy, parted down the middle. He couldn't get his one stray curl to stay down, but he didn't really mind. He never could. He brushed his teeth and headed towards to kitchen to cook some breakfast.

It was 7:47 by the time breakfast was ready. Canada had coffee brewing, three eggs sunny-side-up, toast and butter on the table, Canadian bacon, and maple syrup out despite a lack of pancakes.

He picked up a piece of toast and began to nibble on it when Alfred walked into the kitchen, still in his pajamas. He sported boxers with the American Flag on them and a sleeveless white shirt. He looked identical to his brother, tall and trim with pale skin and golden hair. He had his glasses on too.

"Do I smell bacon?" America asked. His voice was groggy and hopeful.

"You're up early, eh?" Canada said cheerfully.

"Yeah, it's because I smelled the bacon."

"That makes sense." Canada nodded. America was never this happy in the morning unless food was involved. "Do you want some?"

"Is England a funny drunk?" America asked as he plopped down at the kitchen table, grinning at his wit.

"Uh..." Canada wasn't sure how to respond.

"Yes. The answer is yes." America said with a smile. "May I have some bacon now?"

Canada laughed and stood up to get two plates. "What else would you like?"

"Uh... coffee, please. Oh, and some eggs. And bacon. You make really good bacon, even though it's just ham."

Canada wasn't too sure about giving his brother coffee. He seemed really hyper this morning.

"What're you so happy aboot?" Canada asked as he brought back two plates. His brother's was loaded with the three eggs and most of the bacon.

"We've got a world meeting today, remember?" America said. "I'm looking forward to it. I've got his brilliant idea on how to fix the hole in the Ozone layer, thus stopping the greenhouse gases thing. So first we build this big cork, and- Matthew!" He gasped in horror. "What're you doing?"

Canada innocently looked up from his plate. He was pouring maple syrup over his bacon. "Eating breakfast?"

America just shook his head. "That's so wrong! You just ruined the amazingness of your own bacon-ham."

Canada looked up confused. "My own…?"

"Yeah!" The American's tone was matter of fact. "Canadian bacon?"

"..Oh, right. I call it PB bacon. Anywa-"

"Weirdo~!" America teased through a piece of toast.

Canada sighed and continued to poor maple over his bacon. "Well, I'm soory if don't like my eating habits."

America giggled as he shoved half an egg in his mouth.

"What?" Canada asked, growing slightly irritated.

"You just said 'soory' instead of 'sorry'. "

"Well, how else am I supposed to say soory?"

America choked a bit on his egg as it went down. "Haa, you did it again! You're so weird, Matt."

"Come on now, give me a little slack, eh? You hate it when England corr-"

"Okay, okay, now you're doing it on purpose!"

"Am not! It's how I speak! You have some goofy accents too, ya know."

"Do not."

"Do too!"

"Okay bro." America said with a cocky grin. "Like what?"

Canada cleared his throat. "Well, y'all talk like this sum times."He said in his best imitation of America's southern accent. "It's mighty funny to me. Git it?"

" Hey." America rolled his eyes. "Come on, when do I ever actually talk like that?"

"When you've had one drink too much." Canada paused to think. " And oh, during that one time you called yourself the Confederacy."

"Wha? Oh, you mean during the Civil War. Well, that doesn't count."

"Does so."

"But that wasn't really me." America put his head in his hands. "You know how Civil Wars work. They're… messy. I'd really rather not talk about it."

"Right, right, Soory. But you I've heard you speak like that on multiple occasions."

"Whatever. Moose-face." America stabbed a piece of the Canadian bacon.

Canada glared right into his brothers bright blue eyes. "Did you just call me moose-face, burger-breath?"

America glared right back. "I'm pretty sure I did."

"Don'ch y'all mean 'ya reckon'?" Canada shot back, cocking his head mockingly.

America stood up from his seat in a huff. "Eh, soory, but, eh, I don't think you know who you're messing with, Hockey-Nut."

Canada stood up like his brother and leaned over the table, eyes still burning.

"Is that some sort of challenge, cowboy?"

America opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. He just stared at Canada in complete confusion. After a few minutes of awkward staring, Canada finally burst out with "What?"

"Oh, right!" America said smugly. "Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to for a second. Then I wasn't even sure if you were there."

"Alfred!" Now Canada was pissed off. "Oh, lookit me, I'm the United States of America. I'm a hero! Gooo me. I like to piss off other countries so my brother Canada can get beat up! I'm so awesome! Hey, do you have any cheeseburgers? I haven't eaten in fifteen minutes!" He crossed his arms, giving America a look daring him to rebuttal.

"I can play that game," America whispered under his breath. "Oh, lookit me, I'm Canada. Oh wait, you can't see me, because, well, I'm Canada, dontchakno. I wish people would notice me, I wish I was as popular and a devilishly good looking as my brother! I'll give you some maple syrup!"

"WE LOOK EXACLTY THE SAME, YOU HOSER!" Canada yelled in exasperation.

"That may be true," America said, fluffing his hair. "But beauty is only skin deep. Awesomeness, like this?" He gestured to his body up and down with his hands. "It's 100 percent American." He gave his goofy grin and strutted over to his brother on the other side of the table.

Canada rolled his eyes. It was his turn to put his face in his hands. "America, if I wanted to….I could have more awesomeness th-than you in my pinky." There wasn't much confidence behind the statement, and it came out hesitantly.

"Ha!" America said. He got a mischievous glint in his eye that made Canada nervous. "I bet you couldn't last a day attempting to live up to my awesomeness."

"You mean acting like you?" Canada was unimpressed.

"Exactly. You couldn't last a day in my shoes."

"Don't you mean your cowboy boots?" Canada challenged with a thin smile. He knew exactly where this was going. "Why don't you try being me for a change, eh? You couldn't last a half hour."

The mischievous glint in America's eyes only shone brighter. "You wanna bet, huh? Look. If you win, I'll do a month's worth of dishes. You couldn't last a world meeting as me."

Canada nodded. He knew this was rash and stupid and impulsive and stupid, but there was something about his brother's arrogance that he wanted to prove wrong. Plus, he enjoyed the thought of America doing the dishes for once. "And if you win, I'll... uh..."

"You'll kiss France!" America grinned from ear to ear at just the thought.

Canada eyes widened. "Kiss France?"

"Just to freak you out." America wiggled his eyebrows. "Or, you know, if you're into that kinda-"

"SO…We have a deal?" Canada held out his hand. It was too late to turn back now.

"Deal." America said as he firmly shook his brother's hand.

What the hell did I just agree too? Canada thought through a wavering smile.