N.Italy: Germany~, Germany~!
Germany: Italy! Did you come here driving on the wrong side of the highway?
N.Italy: No, I didn’t… Today, you know… Heey, niichan!
S.Italy: What is it, Veneziano? Running all of a sudden…
Germany: Eh… There’s two Italies…?
N.Italy: Look, look, Germany! He’s my elder brother, Romano! Isn’t he cool?
Germany: Hm. I’m Germany, nice to meet you.
Germany: What is this… hostile atmosphere?
N.Italy: I’m the northern half, niichan is the southern half! That’s why he’s called Romano, and I Veneziano! Ah… we were controlled separately, so niichan spent a longer time with Spain-niichan!
Germany: Is that so? That’s why we never met before.
N.Italy: Right! Hey, niichan, say hello to Germany!
S.Italy: I’ll pump you full of lead, potato bastard!!
Germany: Po… potato… you say!?
N.Italy: Heyyy, niiiiichaann! You have to say hello properly! *squeeze squeeze*
S.Italy: Dah! Damnit… Stop! You bastard!
Germany: Haah. There’s more annoying people…
S.Italy: Why with that macho potato…
N.Italy: Why are you saying such things? Germany is a very good guy! I, sometimes sleep with him and Japan!
S.Italy: Whaaaat!? Are you still friends with that people!?
N.Italy: Niichan… it hurts…niichan… [problem: I know it in Japanese but not in English. How do you call when someone grinds his knuckles on someone else’s temples? It’s a common thing children do when they want to annoy someone, I think. Anyway, Veneziano is asking Romano to stop doing that.]
Germany: Hey, you two! If you do that…
N.Italy and S.Italy: ACK! Ow! Ow! Ow!
N.Italy: Ahh… our hair tangled!
Germany: Look, I told you so.
S.Italy: S-stupid! Don’t pull it! It’s not that it hurts… this… Damnit!
N.Italy: Germany, Germany, help! I can’t pull out niichan’s OUCH OUCH OUCH! It hurts… hurts… HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
S.Italy: Stupid! Don’t ask potato bastard for help!
N.Italy: HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH It hurts, it hurts! Niichan, DON’T PULL IIIIIITTTTT!!
Germany: Seriously… You two are… Look, I’ll untangle it for you, so stay put.
S.Italy: W-we don’t need… your h-helpOW! OW! OW!
N.Italy: Niichan, don’t move! Our hair is still tangled! It HURTS, IT HUUURTS!
Germany: Hey, I took it out.
N.Italy: Veh… Germany… Germany… thanks…
S.Italy: Damnit… This guy…
Germany: DON’T CRY, both of you! Some brothers, you are…
S.Italy: Even without your help, I had almost taken it out!
Germany: Hff. Yeah, yeah…
N.Italy: Don’t say such things to Germany, when he was so kind to help us, niichan!
S.Italy: SHUT UP! Hey, you, macho potato! You tricked my idiot brother!
Germany: Hmm? What are you talking about?
S.Italy: Don’t try that on me! It’s your fault my brother started eating wursts!
N.Italy: Yeah! Wursts are good!
S.Italy: Not only that! Stop sending hordes of people to my place during the summer! They’re SCARY! And I stepped on rabbit poo before, and it’s all your fault!
Germany: WAIT A MINUTE! Now is everything my fault?
S.Italy: SHUT UP! I’m gonna rip all your muscles off! SHUT UP, YOU BASTARD!
France: Weeeeeellll! Oniisan’s infiltration in German territory: success! It’s not a hobby of mine, but enduring to pass into the sewers was useful, after all.
N.Italy: Veeeeh, it’s France niichan!
S.Italy: GWAAAAAAAAAHHH! IT’S FRANCE!! Protect me, YOU BASTARD!
Germany: Hey, HEY! Don’t come hiding behind my clothes!
France: NWAAAAAAAAAHHH, IT’S GERMANY!!
Germany: HA! FRANCE! You… asked me 332 000 000 000 Marks as a payment!
France: YOU TOO! I had to pay you 5 000 000 000 Francs some time ago!
N.Italy: France-niichan, niichan!
France: Tsk! I’LL REMEMBER IT, NEXT TIME, POTATO BASTARD!
Germany: …What did he come here for?
N.Italy: Niichan, France-niichan isn’t here anymore…
S.Italy: Is it true?
S.Italy: Hey, stupid brother! Don’t be friendly with this potato bastard!
Germany: What… he’s fast to change attitude. That’s Italy for you.
N.Italy: Veeh… Niichan, Germany is great! He helps me when I’m in a pinch, and he can tie his shoelaces! He’s really muscular and really macho! He comes to my place in summer, and pitches a tent in the park, he’s truly funny! So don’t be scared!
S.Italy: Veneziano… S-so… Can you praise me… like that?
N.Italy: EHH? Eh… Erhm… Ehm, ehm… Niichan’s …good qualities…Hmmm.
S.Italy: I HATE YOU SO MUCH!
N.Italy: Where are you going? Niichan! Niichan!?
Germany: But France, what did he really came for?
N.Italy: Hey niichan… Where are we? I can’t figure out the letters on the signs, it’s all Arab to me… Veh…
S.Italy: Hmm, there’s a guy with outstanding eyebrows over there…
UK: Hey you two! What are you doing?
S.Italy: HWAAAAAAH! I-I-IT’S ENGLAND!! HWAAAAAAAAAHH
N.Italy: Niichan! Don’t run away leaving me here!
UK: Seriously, you brothers… What are you doing in my summer house?
N.Italy: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll do anything so please don’t hit meeee!
Germany: Ah… So Italy was taken prisoner by England.
N.Italy: Waaah, your summer house is so big!
UK: I’m not going to do anything! Geez… running away as soon as he sees my face…
N.Italy: You… really won’t do anything?
UK: Look, I brought your brother too.
S.Italy: Ow, owowowow…
N.Italy: Oh? Niichan! You runned away far ahead of me, so why did he take you too?
S.Italy: Shut up! That’s you fault for not stopping me!
N.Italy: Veeeh… Why is it my fault…?
UK: Shut up both of you! Arguing in other people’s summer houses…
S.Italy: I apologize, England-sama. He was doing all the noise by himself.
S.Italy: I’m really sorry. So… The food you gave me earlier… please don’t give it to me anymore.
N.Italy: Ni…Niichaaan! You can’t bully my brother!
UK: Ah…? That was common fo…
N.Italy: Make pasta, or pizza!
S.Italy: …Stupid brother…
N.Italy: Niichan, if England lets us go, let’s go back home together! And let’s eat all the pasta we can!
N.Italy: Let’s use a lot of the tomatoes Spain-niichan gave us, too!
S.Italy: Ah… yeah.
N.Italy: Leave it to me! If I put some effort I can cook some delicious food!
UK: You… enough! Go home!
N.Italy: Arrivederci, England!
S.Italy: Hey, you, bastard England! Don’t make me eat those things I don’t understand anymore! …DAMNIIIIT!
UK: M-my food was that bad…? Was it…?
France: *hums* Hm? Bonjour… Ah? England… It’s just you…
UK: France, I have something to ask you.
France: What is it?
UK: Ehm… can you lend me… one of your cooks?
France: Since they don’t like having to put up with one with such a bad taste, NO-I-CAN’T.