"Eh!" Canada said, surprised. "What's all this, eh?" He reached up nervously to adjust his touque with rough fisherman's hands.

"I baked you a cake," Uncle Sam said enthusiastically, poking Canada in the chest with a sturdy finger. "And I want you to eat it!"

Canada gave Sam a dubious look. He knew what Sam was up to - old Eaglebrows did this every year, but only because his birthday was four days later and he wanted to be sure his neighbour would get him something. "Well, that's right kind of you," Canada said, politely. "Coming up here in this weather just t'bring something to me, eh? Right kind of you. Do come in and pop open a Blue."

"Don't mind if I do!" Uncle Sam was always quick to take advantage of Canada's better beer, but really, Canada hardly minded, as long as Sam didn't get drunk. Sam was always such a belligerant drunk.

The domain let him know that there was another ethereal there and he left Sam to his devices to go let them in.

"Frightful weather you're having," Britannica said disapprovingly, wrapping her flag more snugly about her shoulders. "I daresay there won't be too many visitors if they have to come through that. Now, my dear boy, how old are you today?"

Canada cleared his throat, suddenly feeling shabby and out of place in his fisherman's boots, wool sweater, and touque. "One hundred and thirty-seven, Mother."

"My goodness, you are a strapping young man." She patted his shoulder. "Now, who else is here, hmm?"

"Ah, well-"

Sam looked over from the beer cooler. "Hey, if it isn't old bratty Britty! C'mon, Britty, have a beer!"

Britannica looked horrified. "Sam, it's four in the afternoon. Proper ladies don't open the bar until at least seven. Do you have tea, Canada?"

"Well, we've got Red Rose."

"...for all that you're so proud that Red Rose is only available in your country, dear, it's one of the most ghastly things I've ever tasted. Pity. That said, I'll have a cup."

He touched his fingers to his brows. "'Course, Mother. I'll pop the kettle on and we'll all have tea, eh?"

Canada had only put the kettle on when he hears another knock at the domain entrance. He left Britannica to make the tea and met Justice and Liberty at the door.

"Afternoon, ladies," he greeted, touching his fingers to his brow.

"Happy birthday, dear," Liberty said, echoed by her blind partner. "Thanks again for all the help." She slid an arm around Justice's waist and snugged.

Behind him, he heard Sam squack. "Hey! Hey, Liberty, you traitorous bitch-"

"Fuck," Liberty muttered.

Sam stalked up. "I can't believe you two got married! And ran to this guy to do it!"

"Look, mister," Liberty said, frowning at him and tugging Justice closer, "I'll have you know I got Justice to write us up a restraining order. You can't come within ten feet of us."

Canada raised his hands. "Now, 'cmon, please. Girls, Uncle Sam is a nice guy, he really is, he's just a bit stuck in his ways. Sam, both these ladies have been symbols of you for ages, don't throw 'em away just 'cause they're making a few demands of you, eh?

They eyed each other with trepidition, then sighed. "All right," Liberty said.

"Just because it's you," Sam said. "Beer, ladies?"

Canada hadn't had the chance to even leave the domain entrance again when France showed up. "Oooh, it iz your birthday, non?" she cooed, running a finger down Canada's chest.

"Ahhh - yes, ma'am."

"Happy birthday. We talk about Quebec, oui?"

Canada coughed. "Would you like a b - wine?"

"That would be very nice, zank you." She swayed past.

Britannica emerged from the kitchen and sniffed in horror at France. "Lady France," she said severely, eyeing the other country's lack of a top, "this is not a titty bar."

"Well, you know, how they say? Liberté, Fraternitié, Boobié-?"

Canada smiled a little to himself, wry. They'd be at each other's throats within hours, naturally, but - what was Canada's birthday without a kitchen party, eh?

It was gonna be a good year, he thought, and headed back to join them.