Aurifex's Notes: I don't own FMA, it's characters, etc. This completely pointless fanfic actually came to me when I was sitting at my computer after school one day and eating, you guessed it, donuts. Them little chocolate glazed devil's food donut holes? Luff dem. This fic is kind of an interesting reminder of how much our thoughts can wander. My friend and I talked for an hour about everything from olives to beta fish. Just a look on how conversations and thought strings take different turns.

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Envy sat at the small table near the window, bathed in moonlight, his head propped up on his pale hands as he watched the night outside of him. He was so fucking bored that it wasn't even funny. Then again, nothing was really funny anymore. Except for maybe watching people suffer. Now THAT was funny. That priceless look on their face as they stare death in the face. It was hilarious.

Envy sighed, and glanced down at the table. In front of him was a small carton of donut holes. He'd found them in the market earlier today day when he was passing through this odd little town. Posing as a random guy with no hair. Envy didn't like not having hair. He loved his hair. So freakishly huge and long and spiky. He popped a donut into his mouth. It was kind of dry, but had an insanely sweet sugar glazed coating. The whole damn thing was chocolate, too. Tasty.

He knew he should eat more. He didn't need to eat, of course, but his taste buds were ill-used and never appreciated. It was sad. He was practically immortal and couldn't die unless there was alchemy involved. But he so dearly missed eating things. And drinking. He thought vaguely about alcohol, and then started to wonder what he was like when drunk. He stuffed another donut into his mouth. He'd seen Greed drunk before. Maybe he was like that. He gave an involuntary shudder, and wished he hadn't. The spiky locks of hair gently touching the base of his back tickled his skin, and now his ass itched. He shifted in his chair, waiting for the tingling itch to dissipate.

Maybe he WAS like Greed when he was drunk. That was a scary thought. A sudden image of himself in a black toga dancing on a table with a foam finger popped in to his head, just as another donut went into his mouth, and he nearly gagged on it. Ick. What a sick thought. He pictured himself sitting back with a few girls and looking cool and drinking a martini with an olive sticking out. That was much better.

He realized that he'd never eaten an olive. He grinned to himself, scratching funky doodles on the table with his fingers. Then again, he couldn't even remember if he'd ever drunk a martini. Did all martinis have olives? DID martinis have olives? Was that a margarita that had the olives? And for that matter, what was that green stuff they put on the rim of a margarita glass? Salt? Lust had told him that it was salt, but it looked like sulphur to him. Was sulphur just another name for salt? No, that was sodium.

Hm. He munched yet another donut and leaned the chair on two legs. Boy, it was creaky. Creeeeeky creeeky creeeeky. Creeeeeeeeeeeee-THUD. He found himself staring at the ceiling, flat on his back with his feet resting on the chair. Ouch. That had hurt. He wriggled out of his uncomfortable position and stood up, brushing dust off of his jet-black halter top and using his foot to kick the chair back up into it's original position. He sat back down and put another donut into his mouth.

The floor was freakin' hard here. That nasty plain wood. The inch-thick layer of dust didn't do much padding. He'd gotten dust all over his body when he'd fallen. Had some gotten on his head? Was there dust in his nose? Did he have to sneeze? Just as this thought crossed his mind, he lunged forward suddenly.

"AH-CHOO!"

He straightened back up and panted slightly, his face tinted red and his nose wrinkled in a grimace. Ouch. He didn't sneeze often, but when he did, there sure as hell was a good reason. And this was definately one of 'em. Good thing he'd swallowed before sneezing. He'd have launched that damn donut all the way out to next week. Gross. That would have been very icky.

He thought of other things that were icky. A.B.C'd (already been chewed) donuts were definately one of them. Greed was icky. Pride was icky. Wrath was icky sometimes. And Gluttony? That fat sack of marshmallow was fuckin' repulsive. Seriously. He didn't have any freaking hair, he didn't have any freaking eye color! And to top it all off, he was FAT AS A PREGGERED COW.

Envy actually thought cows looked kind of cute. Huge brown eyes and that cool sound they made. Moooooooo. Mooo. MooOOooooOOooo. MOOOOO. Moooo. Moo-moo-moo-moooooo.

"Mooooo..."

Envy realized with a jolt that he had been quitely mooing under his breath for the last five minutes. A dull, embarassed flush crept up his face, even though he was alone in the room. Thank God for that. He popped a donut in his mouth and sighed.

"Moo-fuckity-who." He murmured through the donut. "Moo fuck you. I hate cows." He lied to himself, swallowing and glancing out at the quiet town below him. "Moo fuck...hm."

Aurifex's Jump In: M'kay, FREEZE FRAME! Before you read any farther, go into a quiet room by yourself and shut your eyes. Picture yourself sitting across from Envy in that chair, watching him go "Mooooo..Moooo.." Imagine him mooing. If you're not laughing hysterically by now, you're nuts, or you've probably skipped this little part and gone right on to reading, because you're a sane person who has better things to do then picture a palm-tree headed sin mooing in a darkened room. If you ARE laughing, kudos to you.

He was thirsty. The donuts...he'd lost count...had sapped his mouth of all feeling except one. He stood up, pushed his chair aside, and moved over to the other side of the room. Thank the holy moo-cow that he'd also bought water. It was in this little glass jug. He didn't even have a cup. Shit. He'd have to use the bottle. He meandered back to his spot near the window and took a sip of the water. It wasn't cold at all. Not one bit. Oh, well...that was something that couldn't have been helped. But he didn't mind.

He wished it was any season but summer. It was sticky hot right now and the windows were thrown open to tempt in a nonexistant breeze. Sweat gleamed on his shoulders and his hair felt really greasy. That was another thing to add to the icky list. He popped another donut into his mouth and washed it down with a swallow of water. He swirled the water around in the jug by shaking it gently. He watched it swirl around and around and around...wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... It looked kind of like a whirlpool.

Boy how he'd love to go dunk his head in a sink of cold water right now. There was a bathroom down the hallway. But there wasn't any plumbing in this fucking house. It was really old, and nobody lived here. They'd probably've heard his chair go boom when he fell over. He chuckled to himself. There was a pond at the edge of the town. Maybe he'd go over there later tonight and wash his hair. Ew..it was go from greasy to muddy. Not a good combination. He took a lock of hair in his fist and pulled it.

"OW!" He yelped. Why the fuck had he just done that? Stuffing a donut in his mouth, he rubbed at the spot where the roofs of his hair had nearly ripped from his scalp. He blinked, and rubbed his fingers together. He then realized why he'd done it. To test the slipperiness of his hair. The more slippery, the greasier. He just hadn't meant to hang on so hard. His hair was supposed to have slipped easily through his fingers, but it didn't, because he was an idiot who liked to pull his own hair. He flexed his fingers again. They were shiny and had an icky, oily feeling to it. Yeah, he really needed to wash his hair. That was just gross.

He popped another donut into his mouth and grinned to himself.

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Aurifex's Notes: Wow. That took me all of 44 minutes to write, not counting a bathroom break and a three phone call from my mom. X3 By the way, my donuts are long gone.