Just returned from a Remembrance Sunday parade. Thought I may as well do some more writing.

Rejected Questions For The State Examinations:

Many people doubted the likelihood of a mere twelve year old country boy gaining the prestigious position of State Alchemist. Even Roy Mustang, the man who had found him and seen what he and his brother could do, had his concerns.

First, there was a written test for the applicants to evaluate basic knowledge, as well as a psychological test hidden in the questions. It was one of these that threw Edward.

He paused from where he had completed a short essay about the merits of one transmutation circle over another for basic repairs to steel tools and re-read the question in disbelief.

'All P.E. teachers are paedophiles. Discuss.'

Right. Well, he did have a strong dislike of his sports teacher in the local school at Resembool…

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As Fuhrer of Amestris, Ed had to look over the questions for the annual State Examinations, something he didn't exactly look forwards to; there was always someone in the department that wrote them with some kind of grudge against him for beating them when he was twelve. Ah; here was one.

"A lot of people say these exams are too easy. Is the answer a) Yes or b) Selim Bradley?" He read flatly. He called his secretary in.

"Ah, Rosie. Could you send up Major Flottes up to me? Thanks."

Not much time later, the named man was standing outside his door nervously while Ed's secretary announced his arrival.

"Send him in," Ed ordered, feeling the evil tendencies he remembered from places like Youswell under Yoki. "Now, Major. Just because I beat your brother in the State Examinations when I was twelve and he only got the position recently does not mean that you can send up questions like this. Understood?"

Sometimes he wondered whether he would be able to make some of the more irritating people under his command 'disappear'.

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Roy Mustang sat down in front of his desk, tapping his pen on the wood, his nerves thrumming with tension. This was his chance to skip ranks straight up to Major. He had his gloves in his pocket, ready for the practical demonstration, and he had been reading books non-stop for the past few months to revise for this.

Steps came towards him and he looked up to see the female officer handing out the papers. A small hand bell was rung and, as one, every alchemist in the room opened the question booklets.

An hour and a half had passed and Mustang was feeling fairly confidant about his marks. He turned over his final page and saw that, between the sheets had been slipped a scrap of lined paper. Written on it in a woman's handwriting was 'Sex education practical. Report to me in the stationary closet, xxx'. He looked up and met her eyes. The blonde winked flirtatiously and, cheeks a previously unknown shade of red, Mustang immediately returned his attention to his question sheet.

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The previous year had been full of storms and, apparently, that was reflected in the questions department, where they had few other outlets to express their displeasure.

That was still no excuse for him to have had to drag up five of the writers from their desks to his office.

"I don't think I need to ask whether you know why you're here." He looked down at the papers in his hand. "So, Major Flottes again? An environmentalist, I see." He cleared his throat before reading the question out loud. "If the world is heating up at two degrees per decade, what is the point of everything? How, exactly, will that help our examiners to determine the suitability of the State Alchemist candidates?" ignoring the mumbles directed at said Major's feet, he continued berating his underlings. "And this one," he glanced at a second sheet. "Now, I understand that you're a bit sore about the issues we've been having with the railway system recently, but that doesn't mean you can slip a question asking 'a train is travelling at seventy miles per hour between Resembool and Rush Valley, at what time will it be cancelled?', does it?" He paused, taking a third sheet off the top of the pile. "Now, where to start? The vicious personal attacks, the ones that question the sexuality of most officers above Brigadier, including me, or the ones that hint at a personal drugs habit?"

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Ed, being the only member of the military young enough to pass as a schoolchild – because he still should be in school – was often chosen for infiltration missions, helping two older officers to pose as a family. As a result, he had been to about seven different schools in fourteen months, all over the Eastern Area and, to tell the truth, he was getting sick of it. Not only because the students were, more often than not, stuck-up, rich, spoiled brats, but also because he hated the uniforms. There was a reason he had made several of the soldiers giving out uniform break down and burst into tears. Edward Elric did. Not. Do. Uniform.

And the entrance exams! They were so easy he could have done them in his sleep and it rankled to have to mess some questions up as well as to take his time doing so, in order to avoid attention. Take the one he was doing now for example. Whoever had written this had to have been on drugs, judging by this multiple choice question: Tick the box A, B or C to receive the grade A, B or C.

In the end, it was a relief to kick some ass, especially as he wasn't all that clear who was on his side, a blindfold being over his eyes, and everything. He really didn't like his new 'father' and honed in on him to make sure no kid would ever have to go through the same torture of having to call this guy 'Dad'. It being a life-or-death combat situation, he used his left leg, just in case. Hard.