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Description
The time, was Vorld Var II…
…
This job as a radio operator can bite my ass. I truly wanted to be off in Europe doing more important work than sitting at a desk all day with a whole bunch of other women. In a cramped room with small fans that did nothing to keep the heat out. Men here had the freedom of showing more skin than us girls, so it was common for someone nearby to faint from the summer temperature. Yet we continued to suffer in this hellhole for the money to support ourselves.

"Ello?"

I sighed, someone just had to call me. The one person in this place who was ready to flip some tables over and burn this place to the ground. "What do you want?"

The man cleared his throat, "Miss, I have a very important message for Alfred F. Jones, whom I presume to be your boss."

"Your name, sir?"

"Arthur Kirkland."

"Sorry, he won't be speaking with anyone for a while." Calmly I sat filing my nails as if I was talking on the phone with my mother.

"E-excuse me?! I said this message was VERY important!"

"Sir, I suggest trying again later."

"I'm the bloody leader of Great Britain! No one puts me off, especially Jones!"

"What's so great about Britain?"

There was a loud bang in the background; I presume he slammed a fist against something solid. "Britain is great because I said so!"

"It's just an island…"

"NOT JUST ANY ISLAND! A GREAT ONE!"

I shrugged, "Islands aren't great. What's great is having ice cream for lunch."

"Blast it, woman! Put me on the line with your boss this instant!"

"Make me."

(Arthur's POV)

Immediately I stood up from my desk and tried flipping it over with little success. Moving on, I was about to flip over a tray of scones before sighing and resuming my seat. This woman was unbelievably rude! She has a horrible taste of attitude when it comes to importance of what I have to say. Especially when she made fun of my country! MINE! I grabbed a scone and put my headset back on in order to find a resolve between us.

"May I please talk with Jones?"

"…No."

My eye twitched. DAMN IT SHE'S AWFUL! "When will you say yes?"

"Once Britain makes good food."

"There's plenty of good food here!" I took a large bite of my scone, "It's delicious!"

"Delicious as Britain's defeat in Singapore in 1942."

"Shut up!"

"That surrender stands as Britain's worst ever military humiliations!"

"It was a one time thing!"

She scoffed, "Really? Let's talk about the American Revolution-"

"No! All I want is to talk about my message for your boss!"

"Over my land of the free and home of the brave."

"How about you comply for once in your miserable life?!"

"How about I dump some imported British tea in the Boston Harbor?" I could tell she was smirking about her jokes about the bouts between Great Britain and America. How much it hurt me to still hear them. She has a burnt scone for a heart!

Shakily I gripped the armrests of my chair, "You're wasting my time."

"You're the one who called, you're wasting mine."

"How do you expect me to get my message through?!"

"Come over and deliver it."

"Just one last thing, what's your last name?"

"…Idaho."

(Your POV)

A few days later, a man accompanied by guards entered the building. His blonde hair was a giant mess, his green eyes full of anger, and no one wanted to mess with him. I leaned back in my chair as he took a few steps in while looking over each worker with silent hatred.

"Where is Idaho?"

I suppressed my laughter.

"Anyone understand?! I-da-ho!"

A few of the workers laughed, Arthur reddened with anger.

"Hey, if you're da ho, come take a seat on my lap and I'll tell you where Idaho is!"

Arthur turned to face me as nearly everyone in the office had burst out laughing with tears in their eyes. "Do not make a fool out of me!"

"But I just did!" I gestured to my fellow employees and bowed, "You're welcome."

Description
The time, was Vorld Var II…
…
This job as a radio operator can bite my ass. I truly wanted to be off in Europe doing more important work than sitting at a desk all day with a whole bunch of other women. In a cramped room with small fans that did nothing to keep the heat out. Men here had the freedom of showing more skin than us girls, so it was common for someone nearby to faint from the summer temperature. Yet we continued to suffer in this hellhole for the money to support ourselves.

"Ello?"

I sighed, someone just had to call me. The one person in this place who was ready to flip some tables over and burn this place to the ground. "What do you want?"

The man cleared his throat, "Miss, I have a very important message for Alfred F. Jones, whom I presume to be your boss."

"Your name, sir?"

"Arthur Kirkland."

"Sorry, he won't be speaking with anyone for a while." Calmly I sat filing my nails as if I was talking on the phone with my mother.

"E-excuse me?! I said this message was VERY important!"

"Sir, I suggest trying again later."

"I'm the bloody leader of Great Britain! No one puts me off, especially Jones!"

"What's so great about Britain?"

There was a loud bang in the background; I presume he slammed a fist against something solid. "Britain is great because I said so!"

"It's just an island…"

"NOT JUST ANY ISLAND! A GREAT ONE!"

I shrugged, "Islands aren't great. What's great is having ice cream for lunch."

"Blast it, woman! Put me on the line with your boss this instant!"

"Make me."

(Arthur's POV)

Immediately I stood up from my desk and tried flipping it over with little success. Moving on, I was about to flip over a tray of scones before sighing and resuming my seat. This woman was unbelievably rude! She has a horrible taste of attitude when it comes to importance of what I have to say. Especially when she made fun of my country! MINE! I grabbed a scone and put my headset back on in order to find a resolve between us.

"May I please talk with Jones?"

"…No."

My eye twitched. DAMN IT SHE'S AWFUL! "When will you say yes?"

"Once Britain makes good food."

"There's plenty of good food here!" I took a large bite of my scone, "It's delicious!"

"Delicious as Britain's defeat in Singapore in 1942."

"Shut up!"

"That surrender stands as Britain's worst ever military humiliations!"

"It was a one time thing!"

She scoffed, "Really? Let's talk about the American Revolution-"

"No! All I want is to talk about my message for your boss!"

"Over my land of the free and home of the brave."

"How about you comply for once in your miserable life?!"

"How about I dump some imported British tea in the Boston Harbor?" I could tell she was smirking about her jokes about the bouts between Great Britain and America. How much it hurt me to still hear them. She has a burnt scone for a heart!

Shakily I gripped the armrests of my chair, "You're wasting my time."

"You're the one who called, you're wasting mine."

"How do you expect me to get my message through?!"

"Come over and deliver it."

"Just one last thing, what's your last name?"

"…Idaho."

(Your POV)

A few days later, a man accompanied by guards entered the building. His blonde hair was a giant mess, his green eyes full of anger, and no one wanted to mess with him. I leaned back in my chair as he took a few steps in while looking over each worker with silent hatred.

"Where is Idaho?"

I suppressed my laughter.

"Anyone understand?! I-da-ho!"

A few of the workers laughed, Arthur reddened with anger.

"Hey, if you're da ho, come take a seat on my lap and I'll tell you where Idaho is!"

Arthur turned to face me as nearly everyone in the office had burst out laughing with tears in their eyes. "Do not make a fool out of me!"

"But I just did!" I gestured to my fellow employees and bowed, "You're welcome."