At Central Headquarters there were these…people. These people were not exactly…normal. And all of them had their own unique…quirks.
Take Team Mustang for example. The colonel himself was prone to bouts of window washing induced by paperwork overload. Today, Mustang could be seen at the windows overlooking the parade grounds, sleeves rolled up and rag in hand, wiping at the glass. From across the room, Hawkeye sat at her desk on the pretense of working. Really she was counting her bullets in an obsessive compulsive manner. Havoc was doing much the same, only with cigarettes. Falman was filling out reports diligently, wondering if he did them correctly. He could never tell since his eyes were permanently closed. Breda's eyes were focused intently on the chess game he was having with himself. So far, his dark side was winning. Fuery was oblivious to all of them, tinkering away at an old radio.
And then Edward walked in.
The Fullmetal Alchemist paid no mind to his fellow soldiers and they reciprocated. Although, if any of them had glanced up just once they might have wondered what Ed was doing wearing Al's helmet. And why did the blonde shorty have a boom box on his shoulder? But again, no one was paying attention to anyone else and so Ed strolled in unnoticed. He sat the boom box on an empty desk and, without pause, one gloved finger pressed the play button. As the beginnings of the Harlem Shake filtered out through the large speakers, Ed crossed his arms and began to bob his head up and down. And again, no one said anything or even batted an eye because they were too busy with their own little quirks….
Until the beat dropped.
If you'd have blinked your eyes you would have missed it, but suddenly there was chaos! Edward was doing the Thriller dance. Mustang was swinging the rag around in the air while doing the Apache on a desk in his boxers. Hawkeye was now wearing a miniskirt and performed the Johnny Bravo with a deadpan expression. Falman was doing the worm on the floor while in a sleeping bag. Havoc wore a ninja outfit and stood on his hands, kicking his feet back and forth in the air. Breda, wearing a banana costume, furiously spun his arms in a windmill motion. And Fuery was riding on the back of a headless Al, who had suddenly appeared. Armstrong had also suddenly appeared and was, unsurprisingly, shirtless and striking sparkling poses. Oh, and Hughes was there too because the Harlem Shake is powerful enough to bring people back from the dead. He flitted around the room in a tutu, twirling like a ballerina. This went on for a good fifteen seconds…
Until the Homunculi walked in.
One by one, the soldiers(plus Al) stopped their wild dance moves in favor of staring at the three dark figures who had entered the room. Someone even paused the music, the dead silence holding their breaths captive. Lust, Envy, and Gluttony gazed at the gathering with unreadable expressions.
Then Lust smirked, extended her index finger, and pressed the play button on the boom box. The music filled the room once again and the soldiers(plus Al) watched in disbelief as Envy transformed into a long metal pole that ran vertically from floor to ceiling, and Lust began to use the pole as a prop for dancing…suggestively. The soldiers(plus Al) shrugged and resumed their previous dances, only this time Banana Breda was running away from a very hungry Gluttony.
And so they danced for forty days and forty nights! Haha, not really. About five minutes later the Fuhrer walked in and disbanded the dance party and confiscated the boom box. The soldiers(plus Al) went back to being enemies with the Homunculi and everything seemed to go back to normal.
'Seemed' was the operative word there, because little did they know, Ed had started a new trend that would take the country by storm overnight. The Harlem Shake had been released upon the world and nothing could stop it, not even Truth itself.
