Just a little drabble I came up with. Please enjoy it!
If you wantd to review, I'd love it. They help me know my true potential.
"Ah. Here it is; The LEGENDARY SHOPPERS DRUG MART OF THE NEW WORLD! MUAWAHAWAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAGRRRGH!" Roy Mustang sighed with a contented sense of victory. The moment had come. He threw his arms out horizontally as the automatic door slid open for him. He continued walking, his brand new suede leather boots clacking on the speckled linoleum tiles. Roy breathed in deeply the scent of Lysol air freshener. If there was such a thing as someone's happy place, this would be his.
"Now," Mustang looked around him. There were a few customers, and some staff. He inwardly wished that the military uniforms he had to wear were as sexy and aesthetically pleasing as the Shoppers Drug Mart uniforms. Pushing the thought of Hawkeye in one out of his head, he continued down an isle.
"Hmm....I wonder where they keep their spatulas?" After all, a Shoppers Drug Mart spatula was the final touch to his immense and treasured spatula collection. Since the age of three, Mustang's Granny had been giving him a different spatula every birthday. Blue ones, red ones, rainbow ones and orange ones, long ones, thick ones, tiny ones and huge ones. After a while, it became habitual and even after his Granny's death, he continued to go and buy a new spatula every birthday. After all, spatulas did come in handy when your cooking specialised in Russian flapjacks as it did for Roy Mustang.
Finally, he reached the mind-goggling wall of cooking utensils. He turned sharply to face it and then saluted it. Well, it was only polite. Mustang's alert eye scanned the wall earnestly, looking for a spatula. A magnificent spatula, as he was sure it would be.
"Huh?" He scanned the wall again. Three times. Four. Could it be? Could it be that Shoppers Drug Mart did not sell spatulas? No. He would not- could not- believe it. There had to be one somewhere in the store!
He walked briskly down each isle, a walk that soon turned into a jog, and then a sprint. He raced, searching, searching for the spatula destined to be his. Then, a thought struck him.
"Miss?" He stopped an employee. "Could it be that you don't sell spatulas?"
"That's right." She nodded seriously. "I believe we sold the last one, not five minutes ago."
Tears burst out of the Colonel's eyes. He sobbed and sobbed. This could not be. How could the gods despise him so much as to sell the last Shoppers Drug Mart spatula to someone other than him? No. He would not live without that spatula.
With that, he shoved his finger into his remaining eye and clawed his brains out.
"I will haunt the Shoppers Drug Mart until they get some spatula's in stock. Goodbye, cruel world!" And then he died as blood spurted out of his head.
"Excuse me." Another employee walked up to the other who had witnessed Roy's death. "The order of spatulas has come in. Do you mind putting them away?"
I'm sorry if you could not appreciate this piece of writing. I had a lot of fun writing it. Anyways, Thank you all!
