Disclaimer - All characters belong to Fullmetal Alchemist. Word prompt - Hot Sauce.
Heymans Breda was a slightly twisted man at heart when it came to sick games. This latest game he placed before his comrades and friends made the three swallow heavily. "This latest game is called, 'hot shots'. Before you guys is a shot glass and I have a bottle of hot sauce."
Jean stared at his shot glass with a look of complete astonishment. "You have way too much time on your hands, man." His lit cigarette bobbed up and down as he thought over how disturbing this was going to be. "We're going to have fireballs coming out of our asses." Vato and Kain nodded their heads in agreement, unable to fully comprehend how they got into this situation.
"Yeah, well," Breda scratched his chin with a slick smile on his face. "Anyway, who wants to start first?" He greedily rubbed his hands together and eyed the three men. "Jean? Want to start first?"
Havoc raised a brow and slowly removed the smoldering cigarette from between his lips. "What is the point of this game again?"
"Well, the last one to quit wins the three week pass to some rest and relaxation in West City." He flashed the train ticket and paperwork before their eyes. "I'm taking extra training classes and don't want these to expire."
The tempting papers and train ticket flashing before his eyes, the blond haired smoker swallowed heavily and reached for the shot glass. "Okay, fine." The other two took a hold of their glasses, their expressions could have passed as being prepared for physical torture.
Breda grinned sadistically and poured a far amount in each glass. "Alright, boys. Bottoms up!"
The three tipped their heads back and swallowed the hot sauce, their faces changing to various versions of red and they coughed. "Damn, man! This shit is hot."
Kain Fuery gagged heavily and placed his hand over his small mouth, his eyes watering behind his glasses. "I can't do this..." he whimpered.
Turning his back away to cough heavily, Vato Fulman couldn't believe he was conned into this game with these younger men. Breda snorted at their reactions and quickly refilled their shot glasses. "Have another!"
Like they were being inhumanly tortured, the three drank down shot after shot after shot of the hot sauce until they were laying on the floor, their faces fire red. "T-that's it. This isn't worth my health," Fuery admitted, raising a weak pale arm and rolling over into a fetal position. "I'm so done."
The round red haired man laughed loudly and placed his hands on his hips. "All right. How about the rest of you pussy girls?"
Havoc raised a hand meekly and Falman was able to raise one particular finger in the man's direction.
"Now now, Falman. What's that finger for?" Breda tsked, wagging a finger at the older man with a wink.
Vato lifted his head slightly and frowned. "I'm out. Ten glasses of hot sauce, sir. My colon thanks you from the bottom of the toilet."
"And you Havoc?"
Jean gradually sat up and - holding down the urge to gag - lifted his glass and requested, "Make it one more. I'm taking this trip, one way or another."
End.