I blame Vic Mignogna (listen to his song The Legend of Middle Tennessee, and all will become clear), coupled with an excess of dodgeball in gym class :/ This is very much a random semi-crack fic, not to be taken seriously at all. Please excuse my rather odd mind, but at least I haven't been all depressing lately! (just you wait...)
Disclaimer: I own nothing
"You're going down, Bastard!" Ed shouted from across the empty parking lot. Roy just smirked.
"I'd like to see you try, Shortstack!"
"DON'T CALL ME SMALL!" the military team, the Miniskirt Army (Hawkeye had quit the minute they were named), all laughed, looking forward to seeing the two alchemists go head to head. The team was confident, with Havoc and Breda ready to back up their Colonel.
On the opposite end of the lot stood Edward, Alphonse, and Winry (it had taken a lot of pleading on Ed's part to get her to stay after fixing his automail again. She really only agreed so she could make sure his automail didn't get busted again). The Resembool Rangers, they called themselves, and they stared down the Miniskirts, ready to do battle.
Between the two teams was a row of red rubber spheres of death- dodgeballs.
From the sidelines, Major Armstrong called out the rules. Striking a pose, he bellowed:
"THESE DODGEBALL GUIDELINES HAVE BEEN PASSED DOWN THE ARMSTRONG LINE FOR GENERATIONS!"
"We get it!" Ed yelled. "Can we start now?" looking disgruntled that his age-old rules had been interrupted, Armstrong sparkled- I mean, Armstrong nodded, and blew the whistle that hung around his neck.
Immediately the teams ran forward, grabbing as many weapons- dodgeballs as possible and tossing them back to their teammates.
Roy and Edward, though, stood back and let their teams battle it out. Breda was first out, taking a hard hit to his rather large gut.
"*oof*" he went down and curled up in a ball, needing be dragged off by Havoc. Alphonse would have been grinning like a fool if he had his body, but Edward could hear the laughs echoing through his little brother's armour as he gleefully fired the arsenal of dodgeballs he had stashed in his armour.
"You scare me sometimes, Al."
Winry was firing the balls like a demon, arms strong and aim perfected from years of throwing wrenches (mostly at Ed's head). It was sheer dumb luck that kept Havoc dodging, just fast enough to avoid having his face broken. He managed to get in a lucky shot, though, catching Winry in the shoulder as she turned to yell at Ed to 'get his ass out here and help!', and she sullenly took a seat on the bench next to Breda, who was moaning in pain still.
It was down to Havoc and Al, and both were giving there all. The only thing was that Al didn't get tired in that metal body of his, and he was still going hard as Havoc started to wane.
"Wait a sec!" he panted uselessly. He held up a hand for a time out, but Alphonse was high on the scent of victory, and hurled one last shot at the Second Lieutenant- only to have it caught by the same hand still in the air. Even Jean looked shocked, goggling at the caught ball.
"Aww." Al sighed as he made his way off the field. He reverted back to his normal friendly self as he sat to cheer Edward on. Everyone, even Winry, edged away. He really was scary sometimes.
"I think that's enough, Lieutenant," Roy smirked at Jean. "Why don't you take a break?" he started eyeing Ed, who stood alone on the other side of the lot. The kid glared back at him as Havoc ambled off and collapsed on the sidelines.
Mustang stepped forward, ball in hand, Edward ducked down just in time as it went whipping over his head. He hit the ground with a loud *smack* and everyone watching winced. But the kid just got up again, grinning.
"Is that the best you got?" he laughed. He wound up and threw with all the power in his automail, but Mustang, damn him, dodged with ease.
The two traded shots, on and on, with many near-misses on both sides and a lot of bruises from hard landings on the concrete.
The sun was setting by then, and Havoc was still passed out and snoring. Breda had gone to get something to eat, and had yet to return, probably still pigging out in the mess hall most likely. A crowd of soldiers had formed around the makeshift ring, and money kept changing hands as both alchemists lasted longer and longer than anyone expected.
"Just finish it, already!" Winry shouted.
"No problem." Ed smirked, and suddenly he stepped aside, revealing a hidden arsenal he had been collecting for the whole game.
"What?" Roy said incredulously. How had he not noticed that?
"Payback, Bastard!" Ed laughed rather manically. "You may have won the battle assessment, but no one beats me at dodgeball!" he started firing them with a new vigor, and Roy was hard pressed to dodge and get his own shots in as well.
"WHAT THE HELL?!"
The hail of dodgeballs sent up a huge dust cloud, and the crowd strained to see the game. The dodgeballs were still flying, and once or twice they flew into the sidelines. There were many concussions that day.
Finally, it seemed to stop, and the dust settled. People starting murmuring; where were the Colonel and Fullmetal?
The air cleared after a moment though, revealing a shocking sight.
Edward stood tall (figuratively) and proud, ball in hand, one foot planted on Mustang's chest.
"Victory!" he crowed, stepping away and punching the air. "Take that! Ha!" his team rushed out, and (after Winry finished berating him for overworking his automail and 'what was he thinking, drawing it out that long?!') the three celebrated, with Al even going so far as to lift his brother on his shoulders and parading him around the parking lot.
Hughes stepped gingerly over the now-cracked concrete- just what had Ed done to the place? - and helped Roy to his feet. The Colonel looked around with a dazed expression.
"Wha' happ'nd?" Hughes just sighed and chuckled. Oh, his friend was going to regret this in the morning, when those red marks from the dodgeballs smacking into him again and again turned into full-fledged demon bruises from hell.
"I'll tell you later. I got pictures!" Maes grinned evilly at that. He would definitely be giving some of these to Edward. The kid needed some dirt of his own on the Colonel.
Oh, Roy. Silly, silly Roy. You never, ever let Hughes anywhere near something like this, or it will haunt you forever.
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