I… don't know what this is. I just wanted to write a crack Fanfiction, that mocks the stereotypes often used in the world of Fanfiction dot net I just need to get my mind rolling. D:
Mustang fights the logic of Fanfiction.
- Disclaimers: do not own FMA.
"Oh my god! I hate this paper work! I hate it so much I could burn it with my gloves! Even though I've killed several lives in war, and the fire alchemy is something not to joke about, I'm going to be uncivilized cartoon character and burn official paper work because I'm unorganized and funny!" Roy Mustang yelled out to his work room, making the rest of his crew stare at him, in an anime like fashion.
"Um… chief? What have you been drinking?" Havoc asked with a cigarette in his mouth, because he's rich and can afford to smoke every time he is mentioned in Fanfiction.
The others don't question Mustang's behavior because he's acting OOC is perfectly normal. Yes it is.
Hawkeye without any hesitation shot at Mustang to get him to stop rambling and to get to work. Forget that Mustang is a man who likes a clean work space, and actually does his work, because you can't become a Colonel with out hard work.
Suddenly the phone rang, Mustang quickly answered it. "Hello this is Roy Mustang, and how can I help you ladies?"
"Roy, it's me Hughes!" came from the other side of the line. They were aloud to ditch their work to talk on the phone all the time -in fact, he called several times a day. "Want to ditch work to go to the bar?"
"Sure Hughes that does seem like a perfectly reasonable thing to do for two 29 year olds to do that! Screw you Canon, this is Fiction!" Mustang cheered, throwing his pen at the wall. Hawkeye glared at him. "I'll go get some beer!" Mustang said lastly and slammed the whole phone into his desk, much more then necessary.
Mustang abruptly stood up, and left the room with out any words. Hawkeye shot at him, because that's how she says bye. Yes, because that's perfectly reasonable.
Mustang suddenly appeared in the street, in front of a coffee shop. Um… lets say he drove there with his own car, yeah that works. No one cares he left work four hours early –he's too hawt for anyone to think sensibly. (1)
"I would like a beer," Mustang said, pushing a random person out of line to get to the employee across the counter. All Mustang ever drinks is beer. He doesn't own an apartment or a house, no –he lives at a bar or something.
"Um… sir, this is a Star Bucks," the store employee said. Mustang frowned, showing annoyance and rage, because everyone can see emotion in someone else's eyes. Yes, that's perfectly normal.
"I'm sure you have some liquor, I mean, what kind of 20 or something year old employee doesn't have a stash stored by the counter? I don't care this isn't a bar," Mustang said, not caring about the angry costumers behind him. They aren't angry; everyone loves Roy, even the random people he doesn't know, and even people in Xing. Yes, even there.
Mustang magically was handed some alcohol. He didn't care to ask where it came from, he's too smart for obvious things. Mustang left the Star Bucks clerk with out paying him, and no one cared about that either.
"Roy! Here are some pictures of my daughter! See! This is her saying 'hi' to the camera, and here she is from five minutes ago!" Hughes gushed with joy, shoving five out of his 327 photographs into Roy's face. Because this gag never gets old, because that is all there is to Hughes -yep no character development there.
Mustang and Hughes both sat at a local bar in Central. Never mind the fact Mustang didn't go to Central until after Hughes's death, or how one of them suddenly got to a city that several hundred miles apart. No one cares about this logic or the time line. Shut up.
"And so I was at the7-eleven and some random mugger shot a person. I quickly burned him, and the person seemed to survive the shot wound. I was awarded at the7-eleven as a hero, no really cared the mugger had died," Mustang quickly changed the subject, not caring that there was no 7-eleven in Amestris at the time -or anywhere, it was founded in 1927-
"Wow Roy, you act like you're the main character! I bet Edward is pretty pissed about that!" Hughes laughed, raising his drink in the air.
"Yes, the shorty keeps getting in arguments with me about that! He insists that everyone is stealing his spotlight –hell, he wasn't even in this Fanfic until now!" Mustang smirked.
"That's right, before we know it, Armstrong is going to have his own chapter one of these days," Hughes said blankly. Both of them shuddered at the thought.
"Well, I didn't have a reason to drink to night, I guess I do now," Mustang said, pulling on his black coat that randomly appeared there.
"Cheers to that!" Hughes lifted his glass in the air again.
"Cheers," Mustang said, smashing the foamy liquid beers together.
Once again, I don't know what possessed me to write this. Oh well, this is my first attempt at writing a crack story. Err… please review.
(1) I felt my brain cells decreasing from that point on. DX