Theme #3 – Calendar Day
Dear Journal
Thursday, September 20, 1915
Eastern Military Headquarters
Dear Journal,
Today was madness, as usual. Fuery was off, so Havoc took advantage of the fact that the boy couldn't complain about it and smoked at least two packs of cigarettes. I opened all the windows. I ended up siccing Black Hayate on Breda, because he fell asleep four times. (Needless to say, he didn't do that again.) The Colonel was on the phone all day, chatting with one girl after another. Finally, I unplugged the phone cord. As usual, he just laughed at me.
He can be quite the infuriating pig.
Then Edward showed up. Need I say more? At least I had a nice conversation with Alphonse – he's a very intelligent little boy, and has a great amount of patience with his brother. I admire him for that.
Then Hughes came in with a massive stack of photographs that he'd taken of Elysia last weekend and spent nearly an hour showing them around. Elysia is a lovely girl, and she has a wonderful father, but if I have to put up with much more of his constant admiration of her, I'm afraid I may do something drastic.
Hmm. That's an interesting idea. Me – do something drastic? Perhaps I should, just to see the Colonel's reaction.
…Perhaps I should.
Deviously Yours,
Riza
Fifth Day in the Third Week of August, 1915
HQ
Dear Journal,
Today was fun, to say the least. For once I didn't have to listen to Fuery clucking over Havoc's smoking habits. That's saying something. Breda kept falling asleep, and it got to the point that I decided to give him a good snap with the ol' ignition gloves, but then Hawkeye had her stupid dog attack him. Oh, I'll never forget the way Breda was howling, shaking his leg in an attempt to get its teeth out of him.
I also played a joke on Hawkeye, just to get a reaction. I called my niece (who was in on it) five times, calling her by a different name each time. She thought it was hilarious, and played along while I pretended to be sweet-talking her. I could practically see murder in Hawkeye's expression, and I just about died laughing when she went over to the wall, ripped the phone cord out of its socket, and threw the phone as hard as she could into an empty drawer in one of the filing cabinets. That woman is mental, I'm telling you.
Ed gets more temperamental by the day. Any little thing ticks him off, and once it does, does he ever go at it. (Note to self: mock Hawkeye about developing "maternal instincts". She's always hovering around Al.)
Then Maes came and began flashing pictures of Elysia across my face at a mile a minute. The man is insane. I should never have let him marry Gracia. I should have known something like this would have happened.
Well, time to wrap this up. I'm going to be late for a meeting with a lovely lady, and this time, it isn't my niece. Ha, ha! I crack myself up.
'Til tomorrow,
Colonel Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist