Me: Hi peoples! Penultimate chapter. Now, I actually planned this chapter out months ago, but it got delayed due to moodiness and, well, other chapters.

America: (Hands review letters)

Me: (Reads a letter) I tried to make it like 'Whose line is it anyways' but then it was like 'how do you write improv? Everything I write is already improv!' So the only thing that survived from that was the 'points don't matter' line and the famous movie line bit.

England: (pouting) We would have won if we had continued that.

Me: (Reads another letter) Of course, I'm doing the Fourth Wall War! It's the first thing people ask for since I started them on accident! But next fic. Don't worry, judging from the votes on the 'Which fic will be written next poll', it will be soon. I'm making it my 100th fanfic. The poll will be closed as soon as this fic and 'How I Got Saved' are finished (so either the end of March or early April).

Lithuania: Are you sure it's a good idea to finish them so close to each other?

Hungary: (Reads a letter) Yes, I recorded the whole thing! (Pulls out the camera and grabs Prussia as she pole-vaults over the Fourth Wall)

Me: O...kay... (Reads another letter) I wasn't referring to you specifically. I just came from fandoms that are notorious for their shipping wars and I remember seeing excellent fics all the time with reviews along those lines when I was younger. When I saw your review I wasn't exactly sad, I was more like 'Oh yeah... MapleTea isn't popular...' But if you want me to say it: I forgive you. And... (Puts Italy, Canada, and Sealand into the request cannon)

Canada: (Used to this by now and covers ears before being fired)

Me: Remember, I don't own Hetalia! By the way, I've decided the pairings for the Hetalia version of Casablanca will be USUK and FrUK despite the killer shippers that will burn my inbox (doubly so from the people who know how the movie ends). And on an even more minor note, I feel sad that I didn't see the film 'Some Like It Hot' until recently. There are so many lines and references that I could have used!

America nearly jumped as there was another boom coming from the basement.

"How the how can she sleep through this?" he asked out loud.

He opened the door to see England still curled up in bed. Her long hair was ruffled and she was snoring lightly.

"Bloody Daleks..." England said into her pillow. "Can't exterminate me, I'm called Great Britain for a reason..."

"England!" America said.

"America..." she answered without opening her eyes. "Not now... The angels have the phonebox..."

America rolled his eyes. "England! Wake up!"

"Captain Jack Harkness if you take one more step toward the French frog..." England mumbled.

America looked around the room to see if there was something to wake up England. France's rose.

"Why yes, I would like a jelly baby..." England wrinkled her nose when America shoved the rose in her face. Her eyes snapped open and stared at America in surprise. "A-America!"

"England, we have a problem," America stated.

England immediately sat up. "What is it?"


Before he begin explaining, there was yet another boom from the basement. England leaped out of bed and out the door. Whoever was walking in the hallways only saw a streak of color before it was gone. England slammed the door to the basement open.

She was met with a very odd sight.

Italy was wearing her black wizard's cloak and was holding one of England's spell books in her hand. In front of her was a chalk circle surrounded by candles. And floating above the circle was what looked like a pile of spaghetti with eyes. Dripping red sauce onto the floor. The nation and the pile of spaghetti turned to England and gave her eager waves.

"What the hell..." England deadpanned.

"England!" Italy said cheerfully. "This is Signore Weesie!" Indicating the spaghetti that was waving at England with one of its noodles. "Signore Weesie, this is England! Be nice!"

England glanced at the floating spaghetti before turning to Italy. "Um... If you don't mind me asking... why is there a flying spaghetti monster in my basement?"

Italy rubbed the back of her head. "Oh! I tried fixing the spell but it came out a bit wrong and Signore Weesie came out."

"Why were you trying to fix the spell?" England asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Because you weren't doing a very good job..."

"Oh." Pause. "Hey!"

Before England could rant about her 'perfectly competent magical abilities', the phone upstairs rang. England sighed in frustration and dashed up to get it.


"Ye need ta stop breakin' th' phones ah give ye," said a female voice on the other line. "It woods make callin' ye much easier."



"Why are you a girl again?"

"Ah think ye shoods know th' answer ta that."

England gave Italy a quick glare. "Yes, sorry about that-"

"Listen, ah I have a wee challenge for ye."

England raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what sort of challenge is this? Another round of paintball?"

"Nah. A race. First ten cars that get 'ere, ah cure."


England nearly dropped the phone when America's voice explode in his ear.


The phone line was quiet except for Scotland's chuckling. "...No..." America said meekly.


"Oh, is that the doorbell? Bye!" Click.

"America! We're in the same house!" England's eyes widened when he heard America's loud footsteps and louder voice upstairs.


England facepalmed as Italy scrambled out of the room with a "W-Wait for me!"

"Oh bloody hell... See what you've done?"

"That was kin' of th' idea, lass."


Within ten minutes, there were go carts speeding off at Italian-retreat speed.

Several of them were planning to leave before their cars were even full.

"Guys!" Canada yelled as she ran after America and England's car. "Guys wait! You forgot about me! Maple..." She suddenly felt herself yanked up by the arm and was pulled into a car. She looked up to see France driving and the one grabbing her arm, Prussia. "P-Prussia!"

"Kesesesese! The one and only! Where you expecting someone else?"

"No, but I was expecting more of a warning!"

A red car with hot-rod flames flew by them. Italy was laughing about the wind in her hair, Germany was trying to direct her, and Japan was in the back, curled up in fetal position.

"Germany-san, why did we let her drive?"

"Italy drives like a maniac, so we might get there first," Germany explained. "Unless-" A black car with hot-rod flames drive ahead. The driver gave Germany the finger. "Unless Romano is driving..."

"So long, bastards!"

Me: The next chapter is going to be the last. Sorry. I'll try to make it as long as I possible could.

England: Review, please.