Still don't own Hetalia.
~*~
I walked through my home that most call "The Town". It had so many names that nobody knows what to officially call it. My chin-length, chocolate brown hair was flipping around madly to the wind, pelting at my lavender-strawberry eyes.
I let out a sound of disgust as a paper came out of nowhere and hit me straight in the face like in the old, cliche movies.
Taking it off of my face, I was about to rip it into tiny bits and rid of its existence, that is, until I read what it said.
"Need Maid. Good pay.
Call 1-555-293-7663"
Not the most trustworthy way to get a well-paid job but, eh, I do need one, I thought to myself. Dragging my legs to the nearest payphone, I put in a quarter and quickly dialed the odd-sounding number.
"Ja?" a man with a thick German accent answered rudely after a few dial-tone beeps.
"I found your ad for a new maid, and I would like to apply," I said calmly, forcing myself not to punch a brick wall.
"Well, since I have no other people, you're hired. Be here by six. I'll get your maid's outfit ready," he said, hanging up the phone.
The beeping noises telling that the phone was off sounded, but all that was heard was me jumping up in the air and screaming, "YES!"
I finally got a job! That was SO easy! Now, I just need to go be there by six at his house and-
"S***! WHERE'S HIS HOUSE?!" I screamed out, quickly re-dialing his number.
~*~
How'd you like it? Comment, vote, like, suggest, rate, etc. You know the drill. And if you get what the phone number reads, you, my friend, are awesome, too.
Te amo,
cstaron ♥
