Author's Note: HAPPY TWO YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO FULLMETAL LOL!
(EDIT: The anniversary was actually on the 9th. I thought it was the 14th. Because 9 looks like 14. I am in college.)
:D! Also my birthday is in nine days… Yeesh I'm getting old D: plus I don't update enough…
ANYWAY- I have always regretted not writing out that funeral scene after Maes Hughes was killed… It was just too depressing, and I couldn't bring myself to do it. It truly was one of the most tragic scenes in the history of anime.
So anyway, here it is.
Chapter 9.5: Maes's Funeral
It was one of those few perfect Amestrisian summers; the day was lightly cloudy with a balmy breeze. The temperature was just right, and birds dotted the sky like ink sprayed across a blank page. It should not have been such a beautiful day. The atmosphere was almost mocking when juxtaposed to the insurmountable tragedy of the moment.
But enough about the author's broken cell phone.
The funeral was small, quiet, and solemn. Instead of black, many of the attendees wore the royal and dark blue hues of the military. Nonetheless, they hung their heads in sorrow as they listened to the deceased's best friend speak.
"… never could have imagined this happening to my dear friend, Maes," said Roy Mustang, reading off a crumpled piece of paper. "But here we are, all of his friends and family, as well as his new wife's friends and family. I know in my heart that they'll experience joy for many years to come. Congratulations, guys. Here's to you."
Roy waited for claps that never came. Instead, he heard the distant sound of birds chirping and Gracia bawling quite loudly.
"Thank you, Colonel, for your touching speech," said the priest, "though next time I suggest writing a new one instead of recycling the one from the Hughes wedding."
"It's what Maes would have wanted."
"I'm sure." The priest took his place on the podium. "Friends and family of Maes Hughes, let us not forever carry our grief. Let us remember Maes Hughes for all the good he has brought us, for the ways in which he had touched our lives…"
Roy went back to his folding chair among his subordinates. Just as he sat down, they all said what he was about to say.
"Dibs on his blender!"
"Aw darn it," said Roy. "I love that thing!"
"Yeah, me too," said Breda. "It has a setting for everything, even small mammals."
"Shhhh," said Liza Hawkeye irritably.
"You guys know what I want at my funeral?" asked Roy.
"What?" asked Havoc.
"A stripper in the cake. I would love that."
"But you'll be dead."
"Oh. Okay when I said funeral I meant wedding."
"Shhhh." Liza's hand inched towards her gun.
"So how do you guys want to go?" asked Breda. "I sure hope I'm old when I go."
"Me too," said Fuery."
"You guys are so predictable," said Roy. "I'll die at forty-two of a broken pelvis."
"Heheh that's the spirit, Colonel," said Havoc. "I hope I die surrounded by chicks."
"You'll die in a pool of your own STDs, Havoc."
"My mom says I'll die choking on a sandwich alone in my apartment," said Falman.
"…" said everyone.
"At least it'll be a ham sandwich. That's my favorite."
"When I die, I bet the whole world will mourn me," said Roy. "They'll build statues in my honor." He turned to Liza. "Lieutenant, don't I have a will?"
"Somewhere in the office sir, yes."
"When we get back I have a few adjustments to add to it," stated Roy. "For one, I want you in Ponyta cosplay at my funeral."
Liza had her own plans for Roy's funeral. She would be miles away, soaking up the sunlight in Tahiti with a masseuse named Alejandro, before…
"By the way, how do you plan to die, Lieutenant?"
"I will be executed for first-degree murder, sir," she replied. "You will sign paperwork to have all military women register their sizes, subsequently leading me to shoot you in the pelvis. Repeatedly."
"Hey Colonel," said Fuery, "What do you want us to do with your body?"
"Preserve it," said Roy, "Its beauty should never fall to decomposition. The world deserves to have it for generations to come."
"Okay."
"Put it on display at the National Museum of Amestrisian History."
"Gotcha."
Roy narrowed his eyes at his subordinates. "And under no circumstances are you allowed to position me in silly poses!"
"…darn it," said Breda.
"We would have had you on all fours in the bathroom, scrubbing the tiles with a wash bucket near you," said Havoc.
"That line almost went very wrong," said Roy.
It would save the military some money if I shot the Colonel right now and we held a double funeral, thought Liza.
As she mentally balanced the joys of shooting her Colonel with its consequences, General Grumman and Major General Halcrow sat amongst some very uncomfortable soldiers in the third row.
"… and as soon as this ends, Halcrow, I want a full-on investigation into this murder," said Grumman, his arms crossed and his jaws tensed. "Leave no stone unturned. We need to find the criminals who committed this heinous act."
"That's all fine and dandy," said Halcrow, "but… did you have to come naked, sir? This is a funeral after all."
"I cannot focus if I'm not in the buff, Halcrow. I do not expect you to understand."
"Right, sir."
"And do something about this draft, will you?"
"…right, sir."
Meanwhile, a few rows back, Tom was having his usual annoying conversations with people.
"For the last time, Tom," said an annoyed officer, "Hughes is not coming back as a zombie. Those are fictional."
"Then why did Hughes want his body launched into space?" said Tom. "He always kept secrets and knew things we didn't. Unusual things. I bet you anything he knew about the upcoming zombie apocalypse and decided to adjust his will accordingly so he wouldn't come back to kill his best friend."
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you."
"That's why I check under my bed every night. Zombies."
"You don't have a bed, you sleep on a home-made futon because your various contradicting religions don't allow you to spend the money you make in the military."
"I don't own a bed because they refuse to pay the machines that make them."
"Right. How did Hughes die, anyway?"
"Global warming."
Everyone could hear the strangling going on amidst the attendees, but no one really cared because they had each had their hands around Tom's throat at one time or another.
Elsewhere amongst the seated funeral attendees, Major Armstrong was crying grape-sized tears. "OH WHAT A LAMENTABLE DAY," he cried.
"There, there," an officer patted his large shoulder.
"I AM MISSING A SEX IN THE CITY MARATHON FOR THIS." The officer glumly removed his hand from the Major's shoulder and henceforth gave up on life. "IT FEATURES THE ONE WHERE SAMANTHA HAS HER LEGS AMPUTATED TO MAKE INTERCOURSE EASIER."
In the first row, Gracia was unaware of these absurd conversations happening throughout her late husband's funeral. She was wiping her tears when she could not help but notice the odd, inappropriately- dressed man sitting next to her.
"I don't think we've met," she said. "Were you one of Maes's friends?"
"I met your husband at camp," said Garfiel. "Let's just say he knew me like a book."
"I see."
"The way a bookworm knows a book, if you know what I mean."
There existed no method of measurement to describe the look of disgust on Gracia's face, but if there were, she would have broken some sort of record.
Behind the priest, Fuhrer King Bradley was standing rigid, hands shaking slightly on his sheathed sword, which he positioned in the ground in front of himself as a sign of respect. He was currently questioning why he came, and why he decided to bring Selim.
"Daddy, I'm bored."
"Shhhh, quiet, Selim."
"Daddy, you said we were going to McDonald's."
"When I said 'McDonald's,' what I meant was 'shut the hell up'."
"I want a Kung Fu Panda 2 toy!"
"The only toy you're getting is a slap in the face."
Selim did his characteristic crossing-his-arms-and-pouting trick. "I'm telling Mom."
"Where is your mother, anyway? Why am I stuck watching you?"
At the mansion, unbeknownst to her husband, Mrs. Bradley was currently enjoying some "Mrs. Bradley quiet time" by sliding down the banisters and Tarzaning the chandeliers.
"And now," said the priest to whom no one was listening, "a few words from the Fuhrer King Bradley."
All the funeral goers stood up in respect as the Fuhrer came forward to speak. He put his hands out to gesture for everyone to sit down again. Then he unfolded his own piece of paper for his speech. He cleared his throat loudly, then spoke; "Maes Yancy Hughes, loyal soldier of the Amestris military and beloved family man, you are hereby demoted two ranks to Captain." He glanced up from his paper to look at the crowd. "No dying allowed in the military!"
Everyone clapped halfheartedly as he stepped down.
"…and with that," concluded the priest, "let us commit his body to space where it belongs, ashes to ashes, star dust to star dust."
With the bagpipes playing and Gracia and Elicia weeping some more, the rocket that Maes's body was strapped to was angled upwards. Roy did the honors and with a snap set aflame the ignition. Everyone covered their ears as Maes shot into space, the rocket blasting off and leaving the funeral goers in a thick fog of black smoke.
When the funeral ended, several people stuck around to speak to each other.
"So Gracia," Roy swaggered up to the widow. "I hear you're single now."
Swiftly came the slap.
He rubbed his cheek as she walked away and Liza approached him.
"Did no one ever teach you the concept of shame, sir?"
"Says the woman who lived as a shower-free hippie in her college days."
"… you knew about that?"
One hand holding her daughter's, the other wiping the tears, Gracia walked towards an empty home with an irreparable heart.
It was just then that a red car drove up to them and stopped. The window rolled down and Garfiel's head poked through it.
"Hello again, Mrs. Hughes," he said. "I hear you're single now."
Gracia frowned. "But I thought you only liked men?"
"Honey, man or woman, I can't resist someone with an ass like that."
Gracia looked down at her daughter, and then at Garfiel.
"Okay," she said. She let go of Elicia's hand and entered the car. It drove off into the sunset.
CHAPTER EPILOGUE
Elicia grew up to invent the Imperial system.
CHAPTER EPILOGUE PART TWO
The Amestris military never quite had a substantial budget set towards any space program. It came as a surprise to no one that the rocket carrying Maes's body didn't make it seventy feet into the stratosphere before it sputtered out of power and fell apart in mid-air.
Maes's body landed in a large tree next to the Bradley mansion. Some guys tried poking it down with a stick but it was stuck in there good.
Author's Note: I may decide to edit this into Chapter 9 as I complete this story. I know this was a bit short (and I am currently working on the new chapter), but… thoughts?
PS- Some credit goes to my sister for helping me with Mrs. Bradley and Elicia in this chapter ^_^
PPS- It's creeping me out how much of myself I'm putting into Falman. I also choked on a sandwich alone in my apartment once -_-
… and I have a Neopets account ._.
PPPS- I typed the following in the library as some students I knew walked by and made me desperate to look like I was doing something productive. I decided to leave it there since it amused me. I may have pulled a Roy here.
Oh god type something. Anything. Pretend you're doing something important. Frown at the screen. Yes. Damn you grad school and procrastination! This is awful. Nothing done. Lol lol lol. Twenty grand down the drain. Cats.
