[After running into a Italian whining about pasta somehow Prussia ended up with a craving for Italian. She notices the pizza place on accident, but hey, Italian is Italian. She got lucky for once.
Until she got inside and realized it was more like American Italian since this wasn't Italian Pizza. Oh no, her Italy knows how to make her pizzas and this isn't like them. Maybe she can still get something.
The silence in the place irks her. Shouldn't there be people chatting and carrying on? What the hell is with the morbid quiet? Someone die? She pauses at the table of the guy nearest her--an old geezer, but he might be able to give her some information.]