"I've come to Central to study philosophy," Jean Havoc told Rebecca Catalina, as they walked down the road near the Armstrong Mansion, "Colonel Mustang said if I want to be promoted, I need to be less stupid."
Rebecca laughed at him.
"I'm not sure how much difference philosophy will make," she replied, "Are you sure you aren't actually here to focus on more worldly pleasures?"
Havoc gave her a shrug. As if to prove her point, two lovely women appeared escorted by their father. They were already being followed by two gentlemen.
"Yowsers!" exclaimed Havoc and followed the women as well, listening closely.
"Gentlemen," he heard the father say, "Importune me no farther, for how I firmly am resolved you know: that is, not to bestow my youngest daughter before I have a husband for the elder."
"What does that mean?" Havoc asked Rebecca in a whisper.
"In case you didn't notice, moron," she started, "That is General Phillip Armstrong, and he is saying that he will not allow his younger daughter Catherine to be married until he finds someone for his older daughter Olivier."
"Major General Armstrong!" Havoc gasped, "Poor Catherine is going to be alone forever!"
They listened further.
"She's too rough for me!" exclaimed Dr. Marcoh, one of the suitors. Olivier scowled and hissed at him audibly.
"I would never marry you unless you were of gentler, milder mold," quoth Scar, the other suitor.
"You shall never need to fear!" screamed Olivier, "Shut up or I'll hit your over the noddle with a three-legged stool"
Havoc looked stunned, and whispered to Rebecca, "That wench is stark mad or wonderful froward. But in the other's silence do I see Maid's mild behavior and sobriety"
"Pardon?" she said.
"Never mind," said Havoc, ogling Catherine.
"I don't know why everyone likes Catherine!" Olivier shouted, "She's a coward, a weakling and a crybaby."
"Don't worry father," Catherine said sweetly, "I am happy to continue with my studies until Olivier is wed. I only seek to please you."
"Goody two shoes!" spat Olivier, growling.
"We're leaving now," said Philip, ushering his daughters away, "It is time for them to study. By the way, if you happen to know of any good tutors, please let me know. They always seem to quit for some reason."
"What, shall I be appointed hours as though, belike, I knew not what to take and what to leave?" yelled Olivier, before storming off in the other direction.
Scar turned to Dr. Marcoh.
"We need to find OIivier a husband, that's the only way we'll have a chance," Scar said.
"A husband? A devil!" quoth Dr. Marcoh.
"I say 'a husband.'" replied Scar.
"I say 'a devil.' Think'st thou, Scar, though her father be very rich, any man is so very a fool to be married to hell?" argued Dr. Marcoh.
Scar shrugged,
"There are good fellows in the world, and I bet we could find one willing to take on Olivier for such a fortune. I think we should try to find someone."
"It's worth a shot, though I doubt such a man exists," Dr. Marcoh replied, and they walked off.
"Wow, do you think this means that Catherine might be available soon?" Havoc asked Rebecca, awestruck.
"I don't think so," replied Rebecca, "General Armstrong is quite the tough cookie."
"I must have a chance at Catherine," moaned Havoc, "I burn, I pine! I perish, Rebecca, If I achieve not this young modest girl."
Rebecca groaned, annoyed to see Havoc obsessed with a girl he barely knew again. She walked off.
"Where are you going?" Havoc asked.
"To the Armstrong Mansion," she replied, "To see if I can get one of those jobs as a tutor. This military pay is shit."
"Wait a second," Havoc said, his mouth hanging open as if he'd had the first good idea of his life, "If you get a job working with Catherine, can you put in a good word for me and introduce us?"
Rebecca wrinkled her nose.
"Counsel me, Rebecca, for I know thou canst," Havoc insisted, "Assist me, Rebecca, for I know thou wilt."
"If you feel that strongly, fine!" snorted Rebecca. Then she turned around.
"How are you going to explain to Colonel Mustang that you spent your whole time in Central chasing tail instead of studying philosophy?" she demanded.
"I'll just say I killed a man and had to lie low," he responded, "Piece of cake."