[since America's working a minimum wage job, mooching off his brother and eating everything in sight, he's totally been suffering from an "economic depression," aka a cold for the past month. Yeah. That's the story and I'm sticking to it. And he's, uh, still got it. A little bit.]
[insert sniffling here] God...dammit, stupid--ACHOO!!--cold? Yeah,
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There's no cure? Why not?? There's gotta be! I'm the hero and I--[excitability threw him into a little coughing fit, hold on]
And I need to be cured!
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I think the only cure for something like that is time.
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But--! C'mon, Norway, I'm the HERO, I can't be si--A-ACHOO!! sick! Can't be!
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It's Matthew, Alfred- can't you even remember your own brother's name..?
[...but he's already making you pancakes anyway.]
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I can. Just don't wanna. [brb, writing that on his hand]
[score!]
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[Brb, pretending that didn't sting a little.]
Um... h-how many pancakes would you like?
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It slips my mind!
A bunch. A whole lot! Enough to fill me up!
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(The comment has been removed)
Guh, unless you come into my room you won't get it. But only [pauses, gotta remember...oh right!] Canada's allowed!
[[ooc: okey dokey~!]]
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(The comment has been removed)
[thaaaat's probably for the best]
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[a pause as he regains his composture.]
...So you're sick. I was wondering why you weren't dashing around irritating people.
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[Was that a hint of concern in his voice?]
And call it what you like, but it's damn irritating to me.
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