“So, have things been going well for you?” America asked, hoping the atmosphere at the restaurant was quiet enough for his companion. He’d picked this place specially, hoping it would be high-enough class.
It appeared to meet most of England’s qualifications, but nevertheless, something always seemed to be wrong with it, and this one was no exception, judging by England’s previous comment about the absurdity of the portion sizes. “Fairly well. My economy is slowly improving, no thanks to your bloody economic crisis. However, I’m not the one with a sixteen trillion dollar debt so, I’m afraid I must ask—how are you doing?”
America forced out a chuckle, but it came out more nervous than anything else. He mentally slapped himself for losing composure. “It—It’s not too much of a problem, really. My boss is pushing to slow the debt rate, if nothing else, but I really wish he’d start paying things off. China wants my hide on a silver platter,” he said, trying to inject some humor into the conversation, but failed miserably.
England just frowned. “Perhaps if you weren’t so hard-pressed on maintaining traditional Capitalism, you wouldn’t be in such a tight situation.”
“I couldn’t do that to my people,” America said firmly. “And if I’m not mistaken, you were just as much a proponent of Capitalism as I was, especially in the Second World War. And since you’ve never said a harsh word about Churchill, I don’t think you should be trying to tear down what he stood for—”
“No need to get so defensive,” England said, raising an eyebrow at the strong answer. “I was just making a statement is all. Really, America, you should learn to reign in that temper of yours.”
America stared at him for a long while, but before he could control his tongue long enough to make a reply that wasn’t rude, the server came and delivered their respective dishes.
After England made a particularly snarky comment about the size of the portions, yet again, America stopped bothering to reply at all.
Insecurities and Depression 1c/?
“So, have things been going well for you?” America asked, hoping the atmosphere at the restaurant was quiet enough for his companion. He’d picked this place specially, hoping it would be high-enough class.
It appeared to meet most of England’s qualifications, but nevertheless, something always seemed to be wrong with it, and this one was no exception, judging by England’s previous comment about the absurdity of the portion sizes. “Fairly well. My economy is slowly improving, no thanks to your bloody economic crisis. However, I’m not the one with a sixteen trillion dollar debt so, I’m afraid I must ask—how are you doing?”
America forced out a chuckle, but it came out more nervous than anything else. He mentally slapped himself for losing composure. “It—It’s not too much of a problem, really. My boss is pushing to slow the debt rate, if nothing else, but I really wish he’d start paying things off. China wants my hide on a silver platter,” he said, trying to inject some humor into the conversation, but failed miserably.
England just frowned. “Perhaps if you weren’t so hard-pressed on maintaining traditional Capitalism, you wouldn’t be in such a tight situation.”
“I couldn’t do that to my people,” America said firmly. “And if I’m not mistaken, you were just as much a proponent of Capitalism as I was, especially in the Second World War. And since you’ve never said a harsh word about Churchill, I don’t think you should be trying to tear down what he stood for—”
“No need to get so defensive,” England said, raising an eyebrow at the strong answer. “I was just making a statement is all. Really, America, you should learn to reign in that temper of yours.”
America stared at him for a long while, but before he could control his tongue long enough to make a reply that wasn’t rude, the server came and delivered their respective dishes.
After England made a particularly snarky comment about the size of the portions, yet again, America stopped bothering to reply at all.