Meet the Press
“Alfred.” The tone of Russia’s voice was icy-calm in the living room.
America tensed up like a rabbit in front of a cat and stopped trying to jam a pair of s’mores- flavored pop-tarts into the broken toaster. “Yeah?” he called back, nervous laughter bubbling up in his stomach and threatening to give him away.
“Come in here please,”
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“I didn’t mean for it to hit the papers,” he defended feebly.
“You held a press conference,”
I cracked up in a very quiet computer lab. I needed a laugh, but I'm not sure whether to thank you or not...
And the newspaper whacking makes me think of America as a puppy XD
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he so is a puppy.
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