Author's Note: When I saw those words in the thesaurus, I simply had to call my fic that. It seems a quite popular fic idea to have people try to get Ed to drink milk, and finally I got an idea for how someone could go about doing that. I think only one person would ever be able to force Ed to drink milk, and it's not Mustang or Winry. This fic also comes the closest to intentional humor that I think I'll ever get. That shows you how little I know how to write humor '
"Just drink it already!"
"No! I won't! You can't make me!"
"Ed, the sooner you drink it, the sooner it's gone!"
"Stop harassing me! I'm not gonna drink it no matter what you say!"
"You want to stay short all your life?"
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A BUG SO SMALL IT'S JUST WAITING TO BE SQUISHED?!"
"I didn't say that, you moron! Now drink the stupid milk!"
"I've already told you, I'm not going to." Ed crossed his arms and turned his nose up so he didn't have to look at the disgusting white liquid in the glass before him.
"Ed, you're sixteen now. Stop acting like a five-year-old and drink your milk." Granny Pinako took a pull on her long-stemmed pipe, frowning sternly at him.
"But...But it's bubbly!" Ed whined feebly, cowering under the glares of Winry and Granny Pinako. "I'm not drinking the secretion of a cow!"
Winry growled with irritation. "Maybe we should hold his nose and force it down his throat."
"Evil woman," Ed muttered, protecting his nose with his hands just in case.
But before Winry had to resort to such drastic measures, Al suddenly spoke. He had remained silent throughout the argument, offering no help to either side. "You know, Brother," he said, bringing a halt to the argument. "Milk is one of the best sources for calcium."
"So?" Ed scoffed. "It's not like I'm going to-"
"You might not need the calcium," Al interrupted tensely. "But what about me? What about my body stuck inside the Gate? I'll need to have strong bones when I get back inside my body."
All the fire and stubbornness disappeared inside Ed's chest as he looked up into his little brother's glowing red eyes. He remembered how skinny Al's body had been, sitting on the blank plain of the Gate interior. He remembered how the ribs had stuck out beneath the pale skin; he remembered the long, matted locks of golden hair that fell down to the almost grotesquely skinny waist. He remembered, and a deep sorrow filled him. Ed was familiar with this sorrow, for he felt it whenever he was reminded of what his brother went without. Sometimes he thought sadness and guilt defined him.
Unable to look into those pain-filled yet un-accusing eyes any longer, Ed turned his gaze to his hands, clenched on the tabletop before him. Letting out a sigh, he closed his eyes, grasped the glass in front of him with his left hand, and gulped down the disgusting contents.