The UN conference room was supposed to be a neutral space. White walls, long polished table, flags standing neatly behind each seat. Supposed to be calm. Supposed to be orderly. In reality, it was anything but. United Kingdom sat in his chair with his arms crossed, posture stiff but composed. A porcelain teacup rested dangerously close to the edge of the table, steam curling upward as if it, too, sensed the tension in the room. Across from him sat the usual lineup of global headaches: USA, China, Russia, and France. The moment all five of them were locked in the same room, chaos was inevitable.
USA: “Hey! Russia, quit being noisy. You’re bothering me!”
Russia: “I am just breathing.”
USA: “Exactly. Stop doing that.”
UK slowly lifted his teacup and took a measured sip, eyes flicking sideways as Russia’s chair creaked ominously. Russia leaned back, arms folded, glaring across the table with a grin that promised violence if pushed one inch further. USA was already half out of his seat, finger pointing, ego flaring. China watched it all in silence, hands folded neatly on the table. His expression was unreadable, eyes sharp, clearly amused but pretending not to be. France, meanwhile, leaned back with dramatic flair, legs crossed, smirking like this was the finest entertainment he had all week.
France: “Mon dieu, look at you two. So loud. So uncultured. Honestly, UK, do you always keep such… noisy company?”
UK set his cup down carefully, porcelain clicking against the saucer.
UK: “Careful, France. I’m not in the mood to hear commentary from someone who still thinks sarcasm counts as diplomacy.”
France: “Oh? Says the one hiding behind tea and manners.”
France leaned forward, grin widening.
France: “And tell me, UK, how is it being so… small these days?”
The room went silent for half a second. The air sharpened. UK’s eye twitched. He straightened his posture, adjusting his coat with deliberate slowness.
UK: “Funny. Coming from someone whose ego needs its own chair.”
USA snorted loudly. Russia laughed, deep and mocking. France scoffed, clearly offended. China’s lips curved slightly, though he said nothing. The UN, seated at the head of the table, rubbed his temples. Papers were scattered before him, untouched. He had stopped pretending this meeting would stay productive ten minutes ago.
UN: “Gentlemen. Please. This meeting is about international cooperation.”
USA: “Yeah, cooperation would be great if Russia would stop existing so loudly.”
Russia: “You want to test that sentence physically?”
Russia stood up. USA immediately stood too, chairs scraping loudly against the floor. The table rattled slightly.
UK rose halfway from his seat, slamming his palm onto the table.
UK: “Enough!”
His voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding, carrying the authority of centuries of empire and irritation.
UK: “Sit down, both of you, before this turns into another international incident I’ll have to apologize for later.”
USA hesitated. Russia smirked but slowly sat back down. The tension did not disappear, but it lowered just enough to keep punches from flying.
France rolled his eyes dramatically.
France: “Always the babysitter, aren’t you?”
UK: “Someone has to be, since maturity is clearly optional in this room.”
China finally spoke, calm and even.
China: “If you are finished posturing, perhaps we could return to the agenda.”
UN let out a long, exhausted sigh, shoulders slumping.
UN: “Yes. Please. For once.”
UK sat back down, picked up his tea again, and muttered under his breath as he took another sip.
UK: “I should have stayed home.”
Around the table, the chaos simmered, unresolved and waiting. This meeting was far from over, and everyone in the room knew it.