[Filtered: Nations minus Russia // Hopefully not very hackable]

[The following is a phone call left on everyone's answering machine.]

Ahem. Good afternoon. I, England, am addressing each of you that have found yourselves trapped in this godforsaken hell of a town. Do me a favor and make sure that you are the only one listening to this. Good? ( Read more... )

I'm vaguely aware of the employment system in the bloody place, but I refuse to consent to this. What is wrong with them!? Surely I'm better suited for something higher than...than a blasted waiter!

I'm fucking England! I used to be an Empire! I don't serve! This is madness! If I find out who's sick joke this is I'll rip their bloody head off ( Read more... )

[SUPER SECRET MEETING TIME GO ( Read more... )

[Filtered away from Drones and hopefully Alfred.]

If the fine citizens of this hell would kindly do me a great favor: Please refrain from telling the idiot known as Alfred Jones about anything beyond the year 1944. I'd rather not return home to my present time and find that his gained knowledge has some how caused the third World War ( Read more... )

Hm, I suppose it is Mother's Day here, considering this wretched town is supposedly placed in America. To think I'm still trapped here. The irony.

Mothering Sunday was quite some time ago for me, actually. March 22nd.

[ooc: Have fun commanding a country. 8D]

[Arthur is standing in his front yard glancing around him as if he's looking for something.]

I can't hear them, see them. Where did they go? There's no way those bastards took this from me.

...Perhaps they just can't follow me here. That must be it.

...This is not my house. America, if this is your idea of a joke I'm not laughing. I'm not laughing at all.

And what the hell is with these pictures!? It's just like you to take things to far, isn't it? I'm not standing for it this time, you twit! Come out! And give me back my bloody clothes!