In the 1890s, a botanist from the U.S. Department of Agriculture was sent to the Dakotas to investigate a highly invasive plant that had been tumbling across the region for the past twenty years. What they found was a troublesome situation, to say the least.
"Waaah! Get them off me!" South Dakota cried while waving her arms around frantically.
"Sis! Calm down! I'm trying to help you!" North Dakota kept telling her to stay still, so he could help her get rid of the nuisances that plagued her.
Every part of her body was covered in balls of thorns. One was stuck to her left arm. Two were stuck to her head. Three were stuck to her right leg. And a massive clump of four was stuck to her back. North Dakota used a pitchfork to carefully pry the thorny bushes off her. But while pulling one off her, the brown brambles tumbled off his pitchfork and fell on top of his head.
He made a paranoid scream. "Ack! It's on me, too!"
"This sucks tumble balls!" she whined.
"Excuse me." The botanist approached the screaming siblings cautiously. "Has there always been this many tumbleweeds?"
"Only in recent years," South Dakota sniffled. "Do you know how to get rid of the Russian thistle? My house is covered in them!" She pointed to a farmhouse that had been engulfed by a huge pile of brown bushes.
"Not yet. B-But not to worry! The Department of Agriculture will find a way to get rid of these tumbling weeds. Ack!" He looked down at a small thistle stuck to his ankle.
Unable to get the tumbleweed out of his hair, North Dakota threw down his pitchfork in frustration. "I give up!" He stomped off.
"Hey! Where are you going? I still have thistles stuck to me!" South Dakota complained.
"Get rid of them yourself. I'm going home, possibly to get a haircut," he grumbled.
"Wait!"
"No way! You can't convince me to come back! I'm going—" A tsunami of tumbleweed hit the teenager like a train. "AAAaaaAAAaaaHHH!"
"Brother!" She and the botanist helplessly watched him get swept up by the tumblepocalypse.
☆☆☆☆☆
Up in the land of moose and maples, Saskatchewan—a provisional district of the Northwest Territories at this time—was tending to her farm, working hard toward provincehood. "Ah, I can't wait to harvest all this wheat I've grown." She admired her tidy farm with a smile on this beautiful sunny day.
As a gust of wind swept across the golden fields, Saskatchewan noticed a brown ball of brambles tumble across the amber waves of grain. 'What's that?' she wondered. She had never seen anything like it before in her life. She decided to leave it alone and let the wind take care of it. She figured it was harmless.
But then, she spotted another ball roll onto her farm. It was followed by another ball. And following that ball were two more that looked just like it. They kept coming and leaving with the wind. However, there were a couple that remained stuck to the wheat. In a matter of minutes, her golden fields were littered with over a dozen of these bristly bushes. There was no end to them!
"Where do they keep coming from?!" Saskatchewan screamed.
~ Hetalia! ~
"LOOK OUT!" North Dakota yelled as he and the tumbleweed tumbled onto Saskatchewan's wheatfield.
"North Dakota!" She ran over to help her American neighbor. "What the heck is going on? What are these things?"
"They're tumbleweed," he explained as he kicked a tumbleweed away from his legs. "There are hundreds of thousands of them, most of which come from my sister's house."
"That's awful. Yet, why am I not surprised..." Saskatchewan didn't imagine the more troublesome Dakota would spread her bad influence this far north. Alas, scolding her wouldn't solve this kind of situation. "By chance, do you know how to get rid of tumbleweed?"
"I do, but it's time-consuming."
"How much time is it going to take?"
"Depends on how many tumbleweeds keep tumbling in here."
They silently watched the bumbling brambles roll around the farm.
"What happens if I let the tumbleweed stay around my field?" The moment she asked, some of the tumbleweeds caught fire from the afternoon heat of the sun, startling her. "Eep!"
"That happens," he answered in a monotonous tone.
"Noooooooo! My wheat fields! I worked so hard on my wheat fields..." Saskatchewan whimpered, falling to her knees in distraught.
"I'm so sorry..." North Dakota regrettably watched all her hard work burn down to ashes.
~ Hetalia... ~
Down in the land of maize and mole, Chihuahua (the Mexican state) was busy raising a litter of Chihuahua puppies, giving them lots of love and attention. "¡Lindo (Cute)! ¡Lindo! ¡Tan luchador y lindo (So feisty and cute)!" She watched the pups play in her yard with a smile on this beautiful sunny day.
"AAAaaaaAAAaaaaHHH!"
A sudden yet frightful scream from far away startled Chihuahua and her puppies. "¿Que en el mundo (What in the world)? ¿Esa es la voz de Nuevo México(Is that New Mexico's voice)?"
Bang! Bang!
Gunshots in the same direction as those screams made her gasp and think terrible things. "¡Oh no! No me digas que es (Don't tell me he's)..." She shook her head. "¡No! ¡No! ¡No! ¿Mi querido está vivo, sí (My darling is alive, yes)? El es muy fuerte (He is very strong)."
"¡Arf! ¡Arf!" the puppies barked.
She nodded. "¡Derecha (Right)! ¡Todavía hay tiempo (There's still time)!" She stood up and dashed off. "¡No te preocupes, querido (Don't worry, darling)! ¡Te salvaré (I'll save you)!"
~ Hetalia! ~
"Bro, are you still alive under there? Can you even breathe?" Arizona spoke to the giant pile of tumbleweed. She could hear a weak voice, but it was too muffled to make out the words of what New Mexico said.
"Is he alive?" Texas reloaded her revolver.
"Yeah... I think he's trying to tell you not to shoot him."
She smirked. "Don't worry. I won't." She aimed her gun at the stack of tumbleweeds, ready to blow them away.
Just as she was about to pull the trigger, a Mexican woman with blonde pigtails pushed her off balance with a big hug. "TEJAAAAAS!" Chihuahua squealed. "I heard New Mexico is in big trouble! Is he alright? Is he still alive? Answer me!" She shook her by the collar like crazy.
"Stop shaking me like an apple tree and get off me!" Texas shoved her away with a huff. "And it's Texas!"
"Where's New Mexico? I need to see if he's alright."
"Chill out, girl," said Arizona. "He's alright, but he's trapped underneath a bunch of tumbleweeds." She referred to the huge pile of tumbleweed behind her.
She gasped, "¡Oh Dios mío (Oh my God)! New Mexico!" She approached the tumbleweed.
"Careful now," Texas warned. "Those weeds are covered in—"
"Don't worry, my darling! I'll save you!" Chihuahua grabbed a tumbleweed and threw it over her head.
"Hey! Your hands are bleeding!" Arizona pointed at her bare crimson-covered palms.
"That's okay! The pain is nothing compared to my love for New Mexico!" She kept grabbing and throwing tumbleweed behind her.
"Whoa!" Arizona ducked her head from getting hit by the thorny clumps.
"Hey!" Texas sidestepped from the thrown tumbleweed. "Watch where ya throwin' those damn things! Ow!" A small tumbleweed got stuck to her left arm. "Damn it, Chihuahua!"
She giggled, "Sorry, Tejas!"
"It's Texas!" She shot the tumbleweed off with her revolver.
Within an hour, Chihuahua tossed most of the tumbleweed across the desert until she caught a glimpse of black human hair. She let out an excited shrill. "New Mexico!" She tossed more tumbleweed out of the way before pulling him out of the pile.
"Alright! You did it!" Arizona applauded.
"Yes, I did!" she laughed while hugging the life out of New Mexico.
"Hey... You're killing me..."
"But I just saved you!"
"No... You're covered in thorns. Ow..."
Chihuahua peered down her body, finally noticing the thorns that covered her clothes and skin. "Oh no! I am killing you!" She immediately let go of him.
New Mexico breathed a sigh of relief. "Anyway, thank you for getting me out of there. I would've been shot by Texas if you hadn't intervened."
"I was tryin' to save ya!" Texas pouted.
"Oh, it's no big deal." Chihuahua smiled with a blush.
"But you're hurt." He stared at the blood and the thorns that covered her body.
"Not to worry. They'll heal after a while," she giggled.
"I hope so," said a grumbling voice.
Everyone turned their heads, facing an austere woman whose golden eyes were sharp like the tumbleweed that was stuck to her yellow skirt and leather boots.
"Yikes. What happened to you, Sonora?" Arizona subconsciously scratched her legs.
She huffed, "I was looking for Chihuahua because she forgot to shut the backyard gate, allowing her puppies to roam close to the desert if I hadn't intervened."
"I forgot to close the gate?!" she gasped. "Whoops! My bad!"
"Next time, don't be in such a hurry to leave your house. Otherwise, don't expect me to pity you if you come crying to me over missing things." She turned around to begin her walk back across the border.
Chihuahua whined, "Nooo! Not my puppies!" She followed after her fellow state, giving her many thanks and apologies.
"S-Sonora!" New Mexico grabbed her attention. "Those tumbleweeds. Do you need help getting them off you?"
She scowled. "You and the Americans have caused enough trouble. Unless you can get rid of all these prickly invaders you call tumbleweed, I expect you to keep your troubles on your side of the border." She swiftly spun around and stomped off with her head held high.
"... Ouch," Texas murmured. "Is she still pissed about the Gadsden Purchase?"
"Maybe." Arizona shrugged. "She always had a prejudice against foreigners, especially nowadays."
New Mexico let out a sigh. "We need to make things up with her."
"What?" Arizona and Texas gave him weird looks. "No, we aren't. We just got you out of that pile of tumbleweed."
"I know. I'm grateful you guys got me out of there. But I need to apologize to Sonora and get rid of her tumbleweed problem."
"Nope. Not gonna happen." They each grabbed an arm and began to drag him away from the border.
"But she's going to hate me forever!"
"Too late. The Mexican-American War already made her hate us for eternity. I doubt she's gonna hate us any more for a bunch of tumblin' weeds," Texas grumbled.
"But—"
"Shut up, or I'm gonna throw ya in the nearest pile of tumbleweed I can find."
Despite his protests, he wisely chose to keep his mouth shut the rest of the day.
~ Hetalia... ~
"America! You better take responsibility for this!"
"He's right! This is all your fault, you stupid gringo!"
"I swear it's not my fault! I didn't do anything wrong!"
Covered in tumbleweed from head to toe, Canada, Mexico, and America were arguing and complaining about the millions of tumbleweed that invaded their homes. Both Canada and Mexico agreed America was to blame. However, America insisted he was a victim like them.
"Then, whose fault is it?" Mexico questioned.
"It's Russia's fault!" America brought out an empty wooden crate for them to inspect. "See!" He pointed at a sticker on the crate with the message: To America—From Russia with Love.
"Hm. I guess that makes sense. Tumbleweed does come from Russia..." Canada mumbled.
"Please don't blame my brother!" cried a tearful voice.
"Huh?" The three countries turned around the moment they heard the slow beating of drums.
Much to their surprise, the heavy tempo came from a tall curvy woman with short blonde hair and big breasts that bounced up and down while she caught her breath.
"Who are you?" Mexico questioned the country he had never see before.
The woman bowed her head. "Hello. My name is Ukraine. I'm Russia's older sister. And..." Her eyes became watery. "Please don't blame Russia! This is all my fault!"
"What do you mean?" America questioned. "You better not be covering for him."
"No, I..." She wiped her eyes. "As you and Canada know, I came here because I needed to get away from Russia. I intended to farm the land as promised. But while I was taking flaxseed from that box my brother had sent for me, I noticed there were some strange seeds among the batch." She bit her lip. "I didn't plant them, but I threw them away. And... And... Waaah! I'm so sorry!"
"Please don't cry, Ukraine. I'm sure you didn't mean to cause us trouble." Canada tried to comfort her, but his words didn't do much to soothe her guilt.
"I suck! I don't deserve to be here! It's best I leave and never come back! Goodbye!" She fled the continent in tears, leaving the three countries dumbstruck on what just happened.
~ Hetalia? ~
Hey, hey, daddy, get me a pop!
Hey, hey, mommy, hey, hey, mommy!
I cannot forget the taste of that
Freshly-baked kuchen I ate before!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
I'm South Dakota!
Draw a circle, that's the Earth!
Looking closely, that's the Earth!
Or maybe, that's the Earth?
I'm the Mount Rushmore State!
Ah, with just a brushstroke,
A wonderful world can be seen!
My horse wears a Medicine Hat!
South Dakota!
☆☆☆☆☆
+ Tumbleweed, aka "Russian thistle" or "wind-witches", originates from arid grasslands near the Ural mountains of Russia, spreading across much of Asia and Europe. By the 1880s, however, tumbleweed had mysteriously made another home in the Great Plains, spreading across the United States as well as parts of Canada and Mexico. Most explanations proposed seeds of the tumbleweed originally arrived in South Dakota via shipments of flaxseed. Although, some farmers at the time believed the introduction of tumbleweed was a conspiracy designed by Russian Mennonites to sabotage their land; that was proven to be untrue.
- The tumbleweed is a cultural emblem symbolizing desolation, ruggedness, and the American frontier, often appearing in Western movies, songs, and traditions. At the same time, the tumbleweed is a highly invasive plant that's impossible to get rid of, becoming an agricultural pest, an environmental nuisance, and a fire hazard. For over a century, the governments of North America have tried to find solutions to eliminate tumbleweed. But to this day, the population of tumbleweed continues to rise and cause problems.
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