Italy Annoys Germany ono

Italy bounced into Germany's house, looking for something to do. "Germany!" he yelled. "Germany!"

Germany, startled, dropped his sausage, where it landed in a small pile of wood shavings. Germany shoved his way out of his chair and stomped downstairs, muttering to himself. He stopped at the last step. Exactly as I thought.. Sure enough, there, was a happy, bouncing Italy.

"Hi Germany!" Italy bounced around the room. "Do you wanna make pasta?"

Germany sighed, and held up his soiled sausage. "Will that have wood shavings on it too..?" he mumbled, a hint of sarcasm shining through.

Italy smiled, slightly confused. "of course not!" he said. It's gonna have pasta sauce all over it!"

Germany closed his eyes for a moment of cool-down, and then responded, "Alright, Italy. But don't mess up my kitchen, ja?"

"Yes, sir!" Italy bounced into the kitchen and immediately went to the fridge. "Germany, where are the eggs?!" he yelled when he couldn't find them.

Germany facepalmed himself and dragged himself into the kitchen. "They're behind the milk," he responded, grabbing a mop and cloth and setting them down on the counter. I'll need those..

"Oh, okay!" he said, reaching in behind the milk for the eggs, almost knocking it over. Grabbing the flour, Italy poured both of the ingredients into a bowl and mixed them together with his fingers. "See, Germany? Making pasta is easy!" he said.

Germany frowned. "You almost knocked over the milk!" he growled, stepping up to the table. He began to scrub the counter at Italy's flour got sprinkled all over the place.

Still oblivious, Italy kept mashing the flour and eggs together until it resembled a ball of plasticine. Rolling it out now, he knocked the flour bag with his elbow.