Chapter 2
Canadian Parliament, War Room
Sirens still blared.
Matthew is inside a fridge now.
“I panicked, okay?!” came his muffled voice. “I didn’t think ‘extra crust’ would trigger a naval blockade!”
Hanbin was pacing like a man possessed, waving a dry erase marker that had long given up. “We are currently in a full-blown diplomatic meltdown because you selected Stuffed Border Incursion instead of Stuffed Crust.”
Taerae slammed his laptop shut. “The app literally gave him a drop-down menu that said: ‘Add olives / Call the Navy.’”
“WHY WAS THAT AN OPTION?!” Jiwoong cried, flinging a throw pillow across the room. “WHY?!”
Gyuvin looked up from his phone, horror in his eyes. “Guys. Denmark just unfollowed Canada on Instagram. That’s serious.”
Gunwook stormed in half-done military gear “Gentlemen, the Danish embassy is requesting a clarification—did Canada mean to launch Operation Mozzarella Storm, or was it a typo for Mozart Stream, the classical music initiative?”
Matthew poked his head out of the fridge. “Okay, technically, I selected both. I thought we could get pizza and good vibes.”
Gyuvin now inexplicably wearing night-vision goggles and wielding a hockey stick said “We just intercepted a message. Denmark is retaliating… with cheese tariffs.”
“Not the cheese,” Yujin whimpered.
Ricky, applying highlighter under perfect lighting, whispered solemnly, “They’ve cancelled our IKEA discount. This is war.”
Zhanghao entered holding two documents. “One is a formal declaration of war. The other is a coupon for half-off cinnamon sticks if we surrender now.”
Matthew reached for the coupon. “That’s a really good deal though—”
“NO!” the entire cabinet shouted.
Prime Minister's Office – 12:03 AM
The room was in chaos. Hanbin was on the phone with the UN, negotiating a ceasefire while attempting to also call in a pizza order (which he was not allowed to do). Taerae was typing furiously on his laptop, trying to write a formal apology to Denmark, but kept hitting “send” on the wrong drafts, like the one titled “Sorry for Pizza, Sorry for Peace, Sorry for Everything”.
Meanwhile, Matthew, still shell-shocked from the whole “I started a war over pizza” thing, sat down at a desk. “Alright,” he said, with the kind of determination usually reserved for people fighting dragons. “I’m going to fix this.”
Gyuvin, who had been absentmindedly scrolling through TikTok, raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to ‘un-war’ us, or are you just going to order more pizza?”
“I don’t know,” Matthew muttered, tapping his fingers nervously. “There’s got to be something on YouTube. How to Fix an International Incident in 10 Minutes or Less.”
“Bro, don’t,” Jiwoong warned, looking over his shoulder. “If you livestream yourself doing something dumb again, it’s over for us.”
Matthew ignored him, clicking the “Live” button on the Prime Minister’s official account. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he muttered, not realizing he was live-streaming to millions of viewers. “I just need to figure out how to… un-war.”
Live Stream Title: “How to Un-War and Possibly Un-Start a Pizza Crisis”
Matthew leaned back in his chair, scrolling through Google. “Okay, okay. Step one: Call the President of Denmark. Wait no, that’s too official. Step two: Write an apology letter already tried that. Ugh, there’s gotta be something"
“DUDE, WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?!” Hanbin screamed in the background, sprinting into the room. His voice was panicked, but Matthew didn’t hear him. The livestream was already gathering thousands of viewers.
The comments began flooding in.
User @dahshitgreat: “Is this real? Did Canada just start a war over pizza?“
User @eumpappa: iconic get that pizza, Matthew.”
User @sexygodgyuvin :“I think the UN might need to intervene.”
user @Mashu man : “Please, for the love of all that is holy, don't Google war crimes.”
“Wait, wait, I’m almost there!” Matthew said, scanning his screen. “Oh! Here it is. How to Un-War 101: Send an Olive Branch and a Free Pizza Coupon.”
Hanbin slapped his hand to his face. “Are you seriously taking advice from Reddit right now?!”
“I’m following the instructions!” Matthew defended. “It says we should offer them garlic bread as a peace offering.”
“THIS IS GOING TO END IN RUIN,” Jiwoong muttered from the corner. He was still holding a half-eaten cookie, but at this point, he wasn’t sure if it was a snack or a weapon.Meanwhile, the livestream viewers had begun taking matters into their own hands.
“Send them an apology pizza with pineapple,” one comment suggested.
“At this point, I think Canada needs to offer peace pizza to everyone.”
“Guys, we’re witnessing history. The birth of Pizza Diplomacy.”
Matthew, oblivious to the chaos unfolding in the comments, took a deep breath and clicked send on an official statement:
“Dear Denmark, Please accept our sincerest apologies. This war was started due to a simple misunderstanding involving pizza toppings. Please accept this coupon for a free large pizza (valid only in Canada) and a side of garlic bread as a gesture of peace. Sincerely, The Government of Canada.”
He nodded at the screen with pride. “That should do it.”
The livestream comments exploded:
“He’s actually doing it.”
“Matthew is saving the world—with pizza.”
“This is history.”
Meanwhile, the official Danish response popped up on the screen:
“We accept your pizza. Pineapple is still considered a war crime.”
“But we will negotiate terms over a very large bowl of Danish pastries. See you in 12 hours.”
Hanbin threw his hands in the air. “We’re going to the UN, and we’re going to bring pastries.”
Matthew exhaled in relief.Zhanghao looked at him, unamused. “And you livestreamed it for everyone to see. Faleast we didn’t start World War III over a single slice of pizza.”
Later that day, CNN posted a breaking news story:
“UN Hosts Historic Pizza Summit to End Global Tensions—Matthew, the ‘Pizza Prime Minister,’ Saves the Day.”
And then, the UN decided to do a reelection…
It was a day like any other—or at least, that’s what Matthew thought. He was sitting in his office, blissfully unaware that his accidental pizza diplomacy had already set the stage for his next chaotic adventure. He was, after all, still the Prime Minister of Canada, but also technically a K-pop idol now.
Then the notification pinged. He opened his phone and stared at the headline:
"BREAKING: UN Calls for Reelection of the Prime Minister of Canada—Matthew, ‘Pizza Prime Minister,’ to Face New Opposition in Upcoming Vote!"
“Wait…what?” Matthew muttered, spitting out his coffee in a perfect splash pattern over his desk. “I literally solved a pizza war, and now they want me to run again?”
Gyuvin, who was busy reading memes about Matthew being the most interesting Prime Minister ever, leaned over and glanced at the phone. “Bro, you can’t leave politics now. You’ve got the #PizzaPrimeMinister hashtag. You’re basically a meme god.”
Matthew sighed. “That’s not even the worst part. It’s not like I know anything about politics. What if I have to give another speech about… taxes? Ugh. Last time I just said, ‘Taxes are like pineapple on pizza—everyone’s got an opinion, and most of them are wrong.’”
“Didn’t the French ambassador literally cry when you said that?” Taerae asked, looking up from his stack of legal briefs.
Matthew stared at his phone screen. "No, I’m done with this. I’m going back to my roots. K-pop is calling.
Without missing a beat, Matthew whipped out his phone and filmed a dramatic announcement video. His suit was already replaced with a sparkly, rhinestone-studded jacket, a microphone in hand, and a definitely not legal hair color that screamed “idol comeback.”
“Hello, world! It’s your Pizza Prime Minister! And guess what? I’m going back to K-pop. Forget reelection, I’m making a comeback tour.” He paused. “I’m still running for Prime Minister, but only if you vote for me during my world tour."
He hit send and within seconds, the internet exploded
Instead of shaking hands with voters, Matthew showed up at campaign rallies with a squad of backup dancers, a pizza truck, and a live band ready to perform his new hit single, “Pizza Peace, Vote for Me.” His speeches? Just 45 minutes of him trying to teach politicians how to dance to his newest hit “ Boy Not Forget Me.”
“Let me get this straight,” one of the candidates from the opposing party asked, “You think the future of Canada depends on Pizza Diplomacy and K-pop routines?”
“Well, uh,” Matthew said, adjusting his sparkly jacket, “I mean, yes. I solved a world war with pizza. Can you dance your way out of that?”
Meanwhile, in the UN…
“This is a disaster,” said Mark lee, the Danish representative, as he watched Matthew’s latest live stream on the big screen. “First, the pizza. Now, this?!"
“I’m not gonna lie, I’m kind of impressed,” said the French ambassador Na Jaemin who had mysteriously become a fan of Matthew’s K-pop videos. “I’ve never seen anyone handle international relations with this much… swagger.”
The Russian diplomat Haechan Lee sighed deeply. “Well, at least no one can accidentally start another war with pizza.”
The Reelection Results:
The big day arrived. Matthew, standing on a stage with a glittering “Pizza Prime Minister” banner behind him, watched the results roll in.
As the votes were counted, it became clear that the people loved the chaos. Matthew’s campaign slogan, “Let’s Dance and Eat Pizza Together”, had become the rallying cry of an entire generation who were tired of boring politicians and wanted more fun in their government.
The final count:
Matthew – 97%
Other Candidates – 3% (They were probably just in it for the pizza.)
Just when the world thought it couldn’t get crazier, Matthew had a comeback concert. Yes, the same guy who was Prime Minister now had a sold-out K-pop show at the National Arena. His setlist included “Pineapple Peace,”“International Flavor,” and, of course, the viral classic “Pizza Prime Minister (Remix).”
"Wait, is he singing at a UN summit right now?” Hanbin asked, half-amused, half-terrified.
Matthew, now in full K-pop idol mode, winked at the camera. “Who else can save the world and throw a concert at the same time? Vote for me, people. Vote for me.”
And then… the world’s first pizza-themed idol fandom was born.
Fan clubs popped up worldwide: “The Doughboys,” “Crust Crusaders,” and “The Slice Army.” They had official merch with Matthew’s face on a pizza box and slogans like “Eat Peace, Vote Peace.” The entire cabinet returned as Zerobaseone too, thry need no wakeone, they were thier own company. No one knew what was happening anymore, but it didn’t matter. The world was dancing to the tune of international peace, pizza, and the idols-turned-politicians who made it happen.
Matthew had proven one thing: when the world needs saving, don’t call a world leader. Call a K-pop idol who accidentally became a Prime Minister. And if pizza is involved, you know it’s going to be a wild ride.