[England huffs, slapping away America's unwelcome hand from the back of his head and beginning to pout a little himself now.]

Well, I suppose you'll just have to starve next time you visit then, won't you? Or if you're that damn hungry, you're quite welcome to disappear to some take-away shop.

[There's a degree of bitterness to that last sentence. The thought of America choosing to go off to a take-out rather than eat his own food annoys and upsets England more than he would ever care to admit.]

It isn't like I care whether you eat my food or not.