A pile of perfect pancakes
Stacked with care
Red rivers flow down in waterfalls
"Cherry Syrup? Why not Maple?"
His shoulders shrug as he smile meekly in reply
"Just something different..."
The voice carried so lightly
A finger glides along the red river
With a single taste followed disgusted gags
"Th-This isn't Cherry Syrup!"
The American whaled
His brother sat there in silence
Slowly a smirk glides across his beautifully tinted red lips
Cold metal pressed against the temples of the American
"Please eat up all my hard work, brother."
The once timid voice was now twisted and distorted
Canada had finally snapped