YOU HAVE WHAT!?

Four Southern Belles

The countries and two states made their way to the rather large dining hall with a circular mahogany table as the centerpiece with a lacy tablecloth and a vase of brightly colored roses for decoration. To the right was a white-painted door where the sounds of metal and glass clicked and against one another and the rusting of footsteps once in a while. Must be a cook or something. 

Along the walls were pictures from different time periods of whom they presumed to be the states. One photo was older and was decaying from the years but from what some of them could make out was America in a suit from the 1860s sitting in a chair with next to a young girl with long hair who looked maybe 2 or 3 at most who still held maturity in her eyes. Another looked to be a more recent photo with thirteen teenagers, including Delaware and Pennsylvania, posing outside the Statue of Liberty. Another was of America holding a smiling and small girl that seemed oddly familiar to England in his arms at what appeared to be a military base. Next to it featured another recent picture of America and Mexico behind three children, two young girls that looked and probably were the girls that invaded the World Meeting, and a tall teenaged boy. Beside it was one of-

"Out of the way!" a feminine voice cried, as the countries jumped out of the way as a blur of brown and yellow raced through them with metal glinting once in a while and then disappeared into the white door.

For a moment the countries stood there in shock, just staring at the door as if waiting for a bear to barrel in, with their mouths agape.

"Dudes, are you alright? You guys look like you're about to be barreled over by a bear," America asks.

This broke the states from their self-induced trance but only England was able to say, "Um...Who was that?" 

"I don't know. Could be Louisiana or Mary. Maybe Georgia," America shrugs. 

"You know it could've probably been Louisana. She usually wears that yellow dress when cooking so she doesn't, 'ruin her beautiful gown' or something," Delaware commented.

"I suppose," America agreed with his son. "Louisiana does get a lot from her French heritage."

"Wait, French heritage?" France asked, not particularly having paid attention to the conversation between America, his son, and the other countries. All he was thinking was how horrifying American meals must be after seeing America's 'diet' and the fact he was raising children after being raised on England's 'food' as it likes to call. France could practically shudder at the thoughts of America eating that greasy, fatty slop from his country. Terrifying. What was his point? Oh, oui. The French Heritage. Well, maybe their cooking won't be so bad as long as America hasn't ruined their French blood. 

Wait, did America say Louisiana? He doesn't remember seeing any small children there when he visited it. Then again he rarely visited Louisiana. For one, he was constantly battling over the land with England and Spain due to its strategic position, two the humidity would ruin his clothing and there was the problem of those swamps where alligators and mosquitoes were rampant. Frankly, he was rather glad to be rid of it for a nice sum. 

Now that he did know there was a personification of Louisiana, that former testament made him feel somewhat...guilty. A new emotion clearly but a very real one. Did Louisiana and the other territories he had sold to America hate him like England was hated? No, that can't be. He helped America gain his independence and he was France, the country of elegance and amazement, unlike Rosbif. No, they couldn't hate him.

"France, dude, did you die or something?" he heard and looked up to see America staring at him along with the two states.

"Oh, non. So some of your states have my marvelous genes?" France asked, brushing his hair into England's face who then proceeded to try and vomit. Unsuccessfully luckily.