Post by puffinwhisperer on Jan 14, 2011 17:56:11 GMT -5
The original story (AKA read this first if you haven't already)
So yeah. I volunteered to write this because it needed to be written and I needed to procrastinate. Yeaaah. Enjoy your loss of brain cells.
Once there was a dim-witted and borderline alcoholic man called Denmark. He had lots of bros and they all had bromances. It had been a while since he had visited his bros because they all tended to avoid him if they could help it, since he had been a total jerk to them when they were younger. He decided to go to their homes and steal their food and booze.
Denmark went to the first bro’s house and knocked on the door. Holland opened the door, and his brow furrowed in confusion. He didn’t remember being bros with Holland.
“Why the hell are you here?” Holland asked, but Denmark pushed past him and the Dutchman was too stoned to be overly concerned.
Russia was sitting at the kitchen table, staring happily at his bottle of vodka. Denmark’s face lit up and he demanded to be fed dinner to go along with Russia’s vodka, but Holland replied that they didn’t have any meat.
“Why should we be buying what it is we are already having?” Russia said, smiling like a lunatic. Without further ado, he picked up his rusty old pipe and proceeded to bash his head in until it popped clean off his scarf-covered neck. Holland picked up Russia’s head and dropped it into his mixing bowl so that he could make pot brownies with it. Through the bottom of a shot glass, Denmark watched as Russia’s head grew back. Thinking that this was the most remarkable thing ever, Denmark hurried back home to tell his wife about his newfound wisdom.
“Nor! I learned something totally awesome!” he cried as soon as he stumbled into the doorway. Norway frowned and glared at the other man.
With a sigh, he asked, “And what exactly have you learned?” Under his breath, he added, “Hopefully some common sense and volume control…”
Denmark tried to smile cunningly, but he looked more like a drunken Dane. “I know what I know,” he said, thinking that he was being extremely witty and cryptic.
Norway rolled his eyes and told Denmark to go buy some meat for the stew for their dinner, and Denmark, thinking that this was the premiere moment to put his newfound smarts to the test, picked up a hammer that he had laying around from his Viking days and promptly hit himself on the head. He proceeded to do so until Norway pulled the weapon from his hands.
“Why in the world are you hitting yourself?” Norway asked. “You really have lost what little sense you possess, haven’t you?”
“I… Nor what I know… know what I Nor… I know what I know,” Denmark said, stumbling over his words thanks to the alcohol he had consumed and the new self-inflicted brain damage.
A week passed and Denmark was partially recovered from the incident, so he figured he would go pay a visit to his bros and former oppressed colonies, Iceland and Greenland. Somehow he managed to go the right way this time and he found their house. As he raised his fist to pound on the door, Greenland opened it and glared at him.
“It’s you,” he said. “Go away. Unless you have money for me.”
“Green!” Denmark exclaimed, giving the man a giant bear-hug despite Greenland’s protests. “I miss having you around all the time!”
“Get the hell off me!” Greenland yelled, and eventually Denmark lost interest in partially suffocating him and walked into the house.
Iceland appeared at the top of the stairs and facepalmed as soon as he saw Denmark’s mane of unruly hair. “I should have known,” he muttered to himself. “Denmark, what do you want?”
Denmark looked up and saw Iceland. “Ice! How ya doin’? You guys have any booze?”
As he walked down the stairs, Iceland shook his head. “No, not for you, anyway. Besides, you should go home. It’s getting dark outside, and there’s no way you’re staying here for the night.”
“You just can’t stand the thought of me sharing a bed with Green, Ice. You miss having me sleep with you, don’t you?” Denmark crooned. Simultaneously, Greenland kicked him in the shin and Iceland, who had reached the bottom of the staircase, punched him in the nose. Denmark lost his balance and fell to a heap on the floor, muttering about the good old days when he wasn’t lonely.
Together the two dragged Denmark into the den, where the fireplace was lit and warmth seeped into the room. Greenland remarked, “We should light some candles to put on the table for dinner. Iceland, go find some candles.”
“What, you guys don’t have electricity or something?” Denmark asked. He received a kick to the gut.
“Why go far for what is near?” Iceland asked, and he stuck his hand into the fire.
Denmark’s eyes opened in shock. “Ice, you’re going to melt!”
“Shut up, moron,” he replied as he took his hand out of the flames. Each of his fingers was lit like a candle, and it created quite romantic lighting.
“Ice, that’s awesome!” Denmark yelled. “I have to go home and tell Nor about this!” And with that, Denmark ran out the door and didn’t even bother to close it. He ran haphazardly all the way back to Norway’s house with a picturesque sunset behind him. By the time he made it, darkness had enveloped the house and Norway was already asleep. Hoping to surprise him, Denmark managed to start a small fire on the carpet, and before the smoke alarm could go off, he yelled, “Wake up, Nor! I know what I know, and have to show you this!”
Norway stirred in his bed, and grudgingly opened his eyes, his sluggish thoughts trying to process what exactly Denmark wanted. When he saw the fire that was quickly singing his bedroom carpet, he jumped out of bed.
“Denmark, what are you doing?!” he cried. Denmark stuck his hand into the fire, hoping that his fingers would light like Iceland’s and create a romantic atmosphere. However, his skin began to burn and Denmark withdrew it from the flames, howling like a little kid who had fallen off his first bicycle. Norway grabbed his glass of water from his bedside table and poured it on the fire, thoroughly extinguishing it. The smoke alarm, whose batteries hadn’t been changed in a good while, began to sound shrilly.
Norway had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting a good night’s sleep. He unleashed his harshest death glare upon Denmark, who felt his self-confidence shriveling up like a peach left out on the counter too long. “I-I know what I know,” he said, his voice an octave higher and about fifty decibels quieter than it normally was. He crawled into the living room and slept on the couch that night, licking his burned hand like a miserable little puppy.
Near a week later, when his burns had developed marvelous pus-spewing blisters that would definitely leave horrendous scars, Denmark thought of a brilliant idea: he would go visit his other bros, Sweden and Finland. Norway told him that this was a bad idea, but at the same time, he was hoping that maybe Sweden would take Denmark off his hands for a little while.
Denmark set off and soon reached Sweden and Finland’s house. He barged in, as usual, and found the couple in the kitchen, Sweden watching as his wife prepared dinner under the pressure of his all-seeing gaze.
“Hello Denmark!” Finland greeted him warmly, thankful that Sweden would have something else to stare at for a few minutes at the least. Suddenly a brilliant idea seized Finland’s mind, and without hesitating, he said, “Why don’t you and Sweden go and buy some fish so I can make the main course?”
“That sounds awesome!” Denmark said, even though he had heard horror stories about Finland’s food. Still, he was hungry, and with Sweden glaring at him, he wasn’t about to suggest they break out the booze. Sweden led the way out of the house and to old-fashioned well that was situated in their backyard.
“Why f’tch wh’t’ll soon arr’ve?” Sweden mumbled. Denmark barely caught what the man had said before he jumped into the well. Running to the side of the well, Denmark nearly fell backwards when a fish jumped out and flapped in his face. He stumbled back a few paces, then watched in amazement as at least ten fish jumped out of the well and landed on the grass, still flopping around in their death throes.
“Sweden, that’s awesome!” Denmark yelled. “There’s a ton of fish out here now!” As soon as Denmark said this, Sweden jumped back out of the well and picked up the nearest fish then snapped its neck. The fish flailed no more. The two men carried the fish inside, and Finland made some horrible concoction that Denmark had to wash down with copious amounts of Swedish vodka.
Denmark departed when Sweden’s never-ending intense glaring finally became too much. He walked back to Norway’s house, eager to show what new knowledge he had gleaned from Sweden. When he arrived, Norway was already outside, reading a book in the shade of a tree. Norway’s backyard didn’t have a well, but there was a creek with some fish in it, so Denmark decided to brave the stream to summon the fish like Sweden had done.
“Nor, look at me!” he yelled, and Norway rolled his eyes and went back to reading his book. Denmark jumped in the creek anyway, and when no fish suddenly jumped out on his whim, he splashed around in the water until he stubbed his toe on a rock, slipped, and landed face-first in the water.
Norway decided it was time to intervene, before Denmark completely destroyed his ecosystem. He pulled Denmark out of the water and dragged him onto the grassy bank, then stepped on his chest as a substitute for CPR. Denmark spat out creek water and wondered how he hadn’t drowned, then looked up into the face of his savior.
“Nor, you saved my life!” he cried in glee, nearly tearing up.
“What were you thinking, you bastard?” Norway demanded as he tried to shake the water off of his now-soaked book.
Denmark sat up, looking sillier than usual with his normally haphazard hair slicked down from the water. It made his head look larger than usual. “I know what I know, Nor,” he said, as if that explained everything.
Norway pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how he had gotten stuck with this lump. “Yes, you’ve told me. Now what exactly is it that you know?”
This took a moment for Denmark to ponder. His effervescent smile lit up his face once again and he proudly exclaimed, “I… know… NOTHING!”
It took all of Norway’s self-control and then some to keep from drowning Denmark in the creek right then and there.
So yeah. I volunteered to write this because it needed to be written and I needed to procrastinate. Yeaaah. Enjoy your loss of brain cells.
Once there was a dim-witted and borderline alcoholic man called Denmark. He had lots of bros and they all had bromances. It had been a while since he had visited his bros because they all tended to avoid him if they could help it, since he had been a total jerk to them when they were younger. He decided to go to their homes and steal their food and booze.
Denmark went to the first bro’s house and knocked on the door. Holland opened the door, and his brow furrowed in confusion. He didn’t remember being bros with Holland.
“Why the hell are you here?” Holland asked, but Denmark pushed past him and the Dutchman was too stoned to be overly concerned.
Russia was sitting at the kitchen table, staring happily at his bottle of vodka. Denmark’s face lit up and he demanded to be fed dinner to go along with Russia’s vodka, but Holland replied that they didn’t have any meat.
“Why should we be buying what it is we are already having?” Russia said, smiling like a lunatic. Without further ado, he picked up his rusty old pipe and proceeded to bash his head in until it popped clean off his scarf-covered neck. Holland picked up Russia’s head and dropped it into his mixing bowl so that he could make pot brownies with it. Through the bottom of a shot glass, Denmark watched as Russia’s head grew back. Thinking that this was the most remarkable thing ever, Denmark hurried back home to tell his wife about his newfound wisdom.
“Nor! I learned something totally awesome!” he cried as soon as he stumbled into the doorway. Norway frowned and glared at the other man.
With a sigh, he asked, “And what exactly have you learned?” Under his breath, he added, “Hopefully some common sense and volume control…”
Denmark tried to smile cunningly, but he looked more like a drunken Dane. “I know what I know,” he said, thinking that he was being extremely witty and cryptic.
Norway rolled his eyes and told Denmark to go buy some meat for the stew for their dinner, and Denmark, thinking that this was the premiere moment to put his newfound smarts to the test, picked up a hammer that he had laying around from his Viking days and promptly hit himself on the head. He proceeded to do so until Norway pulled the weapon from his hands.
“Why in the world are you hitting yourself?” Norway asked. “You really have lost what little sense you possess, haven’t you?”
“I… Nor what I know… know what I Nor… I know what I know,” Denmark said, stumbling over his words thanks to the alcohol he had consumed and the new self-inflicted brain damage.
A week passed and Denmark was partially recovered from the incident, so he figured he would go pay a visit to his bros and former oppressed colonies, Iceland and Greenland. Somehow he managed to go the right way this time and he found their house. As he raised his fist to pound on the door, Greenland opened it and glared at him.
“It’s you,” he said. “Go away. Unless you have money for me.”
“Green!” Denmark exclaimed, giving the man a giant bear-hug despite Greenland’s protests. “I miss having you around all the time!”
“Get the hell off me!” Greenland yelled, and eventually Denmark lost interest in partially suffocating him and walked into the house.
Iceland appeared at the top of the stairs and facepalmed as soon as he saw Denmark’s mane of unruly hair. “I should have known,” he muttered to himself. “Denmark, what do you want?”
Denmark looked up and saw Iceland. “Ice! How ya doin’? You guys have any booze?”
As he walked down the stairs, Iceland shook his head. “No, not for you, anyway. Besides, you should go home. It’s getting dark outside, and there’s no way you’re staying here for the night.”
“You just can’t stand the thought of me sharing a bed with Green, Ice. You miss having me sleep with you, don’t you?” Denmark crooned. Simultaneously, Greenland kicked him in the shin and Iceland, who had reached the bottom of the staircase, punched him in the nose. Denmark lost his balance and fell to a heap on the floor, muttering about the good old days when he wasn’t lonely.
Together the two dragged Denmark into the den, where the fireplace was lit and warmth seeped into the room. Greenland remarked, “We should light some candles to put on the table for dinner. Iceland, go find some candles.”
“What, you guys don’t have electricity or something?” Denmark asked. He received a kick to the gut.
“Why go far for what is near?” Iceland asked, and he stuck his hand into the fire.
Denmark’s eyes opened in shock. “Ice, you’re going to melt!”
“Shut up, moron,” he replied as he took his hand out of the flames. Each of his fingers was lit like a candle, and it created quite romantic lighting.
“Ice, that’s awesome!” Denmark yelled. “I have to go home and tell Nor about this!” And with that, Denmark ran out the door and didn’t even bother to close it. He ran haphazardly all the way back to Norway’s house with a picturesque sunset behind him. By the time he made it, darkness had enveloped the house and Norway was already asleep. Hoping to surprise him, Denmark managed to start a small fire on the carpet, and before the smoke alarm could go off, he yelled, “Wake up, Nor! I know what I know, and have to show you this!”
Norway stirred in his bed, and grudgingly opened his eyes, his sluggish thoughts trying to process what exactly Denmark wanted. When he saw the fire that was quickly singing his bedroom carpet, he jumped out of bed.
“Denmark, what are you doing?!” he cried. Denmark stuck his hand into the fire, hoping that his fingers would light like Iceland’s and create a romantic atmosphere. However, his skin began to burn and Denmark withdrew it from the flames, howling like a little kid who had fallen off his first bicycle. Norway grabbed his glass of water from his bedside table and poured it on the fire, thoroughly extinguishing it. The smoke alarm, whose batteries hadn’t been changed in a good while, began to sound shrilly.
Norway had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting a good night’s sleep. He unleashed his harshest death glare upon Denmark, who felt his self-confidence shriveling up like a peach left out on the counter too long. “I-I know what I know,” he said, his voice an octave higher and about fifty decibels quieter than it normally was. He crawled into the living room and slept on the couch that night, licking his burned hand like a miserable little puppy.
Near a week later, when his burns had developed marvelous pus-spewing blisters that would definitely leave horrendous scars, Denmark thought of a brilliant idea: he would go visit his other bros, Sweden and Finland. Norway told him that this was a bad idea, but at the same time, he was hoping that maybe Sweden would take Denmark off his hands for a little while.
Denmark set off and soon reached Sweden and Finland’s house. He barged in, as usual, and found the couple in the kitchen, Sweden watching as his wife prepared dinner under the pressure of his all-seeing gaze.
“Hello Denmark!” Finland greeted him warmly, thankful that Sweden would have something else to stare at for a few minutes at the least. Suddenly a brilliant idea seized Finland’s mind, and without hesitating, he said, “Why don’t you and Sweden go and buy some fish so I can make the main course?”
“That sounds awesome!” Denmark said, even though he had heard horror stories about Finland’s food. Still, he was hungry, and with Sweden glaring at him, he wasn’t about to suggest they break out the booze. Sweden led the way out of the house and to old-fashioned well that was situated in their backyard.
“Why f’tch wh’t’ll soon arr’ve?” Sweden mumbled. Denmark barely caught what the man had said before he jumped into the well. Running to the side of the well, Denmark nearly fell backwards when a fish jumped out and flapped in his face. He stumbled back a few paces, then watched in amazement as at least ten fish jumped out of the well and landed on the grass, still flopping around in their death throes.
“Sweden, that’s awesome!” Denmark yelled. “There’s a ton of fish out here now!” As soon as Denmark said this, Sweden jumped back out of the well and picked up the nearest fish then snapped its neck. The fish flailed no more. The two men carried the fish inside, and Finland made some horrible concoction that Denmark had to wash down with copious amounts of Swedish vodka.
Denmark departed when Sweden’s never-ending intense glaring finally became too much. He walked back to Norway’s house, eager to show what new knowledge he had gleaned from Sweden. When he arrived, Norway was already outside, reading a book in the shade of a tree. Norway’s backyard didn’t have a well, but there was a creek with some fish in it, so Denmark decided to brave the stream to summon the fish like Sweden had done.
“Nor, look at me!” he yelled, and Norway rolled his eyes and went back to reading his book. Denmark jumped in the creek anyway, and when no fish suddenly jumped out on his whim, he splashed around in the water until he stubbed his toe on a rock, slipped, and landed face-first in the water.
Norway decided it was time to intervene, before Denmark completely destroyed his ecosystem. He pulled Denmark out of the water and dragged him onto the grassy bank, then stepped on his chest as a substitute for CPR. Denmark spat out creek water and wondered how he hadn’t drowned, then looked up into the face of his savior.
“Nor, you saved my life!” he cried in glee, nearly tearing up.
“What were you thinking, you bastard?” Norway demanded as he tried to shake the water off of his now-soaked book.
Denmark sat up, looking sillier than usual with his normally haphazard hair slicked down from the water. It made his head look larger than usual. “I know what I know, Nor,” he said, as if that explained everything.
Norway pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how he had gotten stuck with this lump. “Yes, you’ve told me. Now what exactly is it that you know?”
This took a moment for Denmark to ponder. His effervescent smile lit up his face once again and he proudly exclaimed, “I… know… NOTHING!”
It took all of Norway’s self-control and then some to keep from drowning Denmark in the creek right then and there.