Copyright, Aviatrix8, 2005. Full Metal Alchemist and all related characters are property of their original creators, and are used without permission. (Which is a good thing; I don't think they'd want to see their characters used like this.)
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First off, I would like to say right away that this is a parody, and should not be taken seriously... In other words, please don't kill me.
Oh, and please let me know if I have all the details right, and kept everyone in character (er, relatively speaking, of course; this is a parody, after all...)
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Full Metal Alchemist:
"The Very Model of a Modern Lieutenant-Colonel"
by Avi
Second-Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye stood in the hallway outside of the office of her superior officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Roy Mustang. Under her arm, she carried a handful of case files, which she had been sent to deliver to him.
She really rather have not been the one to do the task, as Mustang could be somewhat quirky at times, but then again, no one could accuse her of not following orders when asked...
Hawkeye was about to raise a hand to knock upon the closed door, when she paused. She could hear someone's voice on the other side, and she didn't want to interrupt; perhaps Mustang was on the phone again.
Still, there was a odd quality in the faint speech coming from behind the door; something she couldn't quite place...
Against her better judgement, the lieutenant hesistantly leaned her head upon the door, to better hear what was being said.
"...and it is, it is, an glorious thing, to be a Pirate King..."
Hawkeye blinked, and took an inadvertant step back. Surely, that couldn't be... Singing coming from Lt. Col. Mustang's office? Her commanding officer could be... Enigmatic at times, but this was rather odd, even coming from him.
Still, singing or no singing, the files she carried needed to be delivered... Tentatively, Hawkeye found herself knocking upon the office door.
"Um... Sir?"
"Come in," replied Mustang's voice.
Cautiously, the lieutenant opened the door, and entered the room.
The lieutenant-colonel's office looked as it always did, with his desk sitting in front of the window, and the officer himself sitting behind it, seemingly absorbed in his own paperwork. However, this was not what arrested Hawkeye's gaze... Though her preoccupation appeared to go unnoticed by her superior.
"Ah, Lieutenant Hawkeye," said Mustang breezily, without looking up. "Just put those folders on my desk, over there."
Hawkeye did as she was told, but found that her gaze kept sliding to the far side of the room... Finally, she couldn't hold back her curiousity any longer.
The lieutenant cleared her throat politely. "Er... Sir?"
Her superior then looked up. "Yes?"
Hawkeye gave an uneasy cough, and then spoke. "Uh... I was just wondering about... That."
She inclined her head towards the far wall of the office. As her superior officer followed her gaze, it fell upon the phonograph merrily playing tinny music in the background. The lieutenant then met his gaze pointedly.
Mustang gave a little laugh. "Oh, that. I realize that it isn't standard issue," he commented dryly, "but I thought a bit of music would... Lighten the workload, as it were."
"Yes, but..." began Hawkeye, then picked up the dust jacket lying next to the phonograph. "I would've never thought you'd be the type to listen to Gilbert and Sullivan, sir."
"There's a lot about me you don't know, Lieutenant," said Mustang sardonically. "I am a man of the world, after all."
Hawkeye displayed the dust jacket she held. "Sir, I would hardly call a 30-year old comic operetta worldly," she pointed out.
Mustang arched an eyebrow. "Oh, you think so?" he asked, with a glint in his eye. "Well, what would you think of someone who composed his own version of the lyrics, for one of the songs for said operetta, hmmm?"
As her superior's last sentence sank in, Hawkeye found herself at a loss for words.
"You're... Joking, sir..." she finally managed to say. "Aren't you?" There was an almost pleading note in her voice.
"Nope," he replied, with a wry smile. "Want to listen?"
"Um..." With a soldier's sense of self-preservation, Hawkeye found herself carefully backing up towards the door. "I, uh... Just remembered, there's some paperwork back at my desk that I need to do and..."
Unfortunately, it was sheer decorum that prevented the lieutenant from running out of the office screaming, and that proved to be her downfall; Mustang had already crossed the room, lifted the needle arm of the phonograph, and repositioned it to play a new song.
Hawkeye froze in mid-step, as cheerful piano music wafted into the room, and slowly, looked behind her. She turned around just in time to see Mustang to burst into song; the lieutenant could only watch, somewhat bemused and bewildered, as her superior officer began to sing in a surprisingly good tenor.
Mustang:
I am the very model of a modern Lieutenant-Colonel,
I've information classified, top secret and in general,
I've met the King in person, and I quote the fights historical
From Aerugo to Creta, in order categorical;
I'm very well acquainted, too, with matters alchemical,
I understand equations, both complex and ephemeral,
Then I can draw a transmutation circle with relative ease,
With many cheerful facts about alchemic recipes.
Sometime during this verse, Hawkeye finally recovers from her initial shock, and tries to edge towards the door again... However, the open doorway is suddenly blocked by Havoc, Fury, and Breda, who inexplicably join Mustang in song.
Soldiers:
With many cheerful facts about alchemic recipes,
With many cheerful facts about alchemic recipes,
With many cheerful facts about alchemic-chemic-chemic recipes.
Understandably, Hawkeye finds herself backing away from the door, only to bump into something... As she turns around, she finds herself face-to-face with Mustang, who starts directing his singing towards her.
Mustang:
I'm very good at what I do; my knowledge is amalgamous,
I know the scientific name of the being, "homunculus";
The lieutenant-colonel places a comradely arm around Hawkeye, who is still stunned beyond all reaction.
Mustang:
In short, in matters classified, top secret and in general,
I am the very model of a modern Lieutenant-Colonel.
The pair are suddenly surrounded by the other three soldiers, who repeat the last verse.
Soldiers:
In short, in matters classified, top secret and in general,
He is the very model of a modern Lieutenant-Colonel.
Just then, the tempo of the music playing slows down, almost like a march... Mustang releases Hawkeye, and then sits down at his desk, a serious look upon his face, as the other soldiers stand at attention around him.
Mustang:
As a Lieutenant-Colonel, I'm teeming with a lot of news,
Although I sometimes find I need to deal with both the phone and Hughes;
Existance of the Philosopher's Stone I will flatly deny,
Even if Full Metal is sure to give me the evil eye.
Mustang then stands up from his seat and places a hand to his chest.
Mustang:
Although right now, I may be just an alchemist of the state,
I hope one day to be the Fuhrer, and a future potentate,
Though people doubt my motives, well, to me, that just really hurts;
He pauses for dramatic effect, then continues singing quickly.
Mustang:
My only wish is to see female soldiers in short miniskirts.
Hawkeye looks irritated by these words, but this doesn't prevent Havoc, Fury and Breda from happily repeating the last line.
Soldiers:
His only wish is to see female soldiers in short miniskirts,
His only wish is to see female soldiers in short miniskirts,
His only wish is to see female soldiers in short mini-miniskirts.
Mustang:
I realize that my opinions may not be in the norm,
Even if I know every detail of my second's uniform;
At this, Mustang shoots Hawkeye a rather sly glance, which she pointedly ignores. He seems to shrug this off.
Mustang:
But still, in matters classified, top secret and in general,
I am the very model of a modern Lieutenant-Colonel.
Soldiers:
But still, in matters classified, top secret and in general,
He is the very model of a modern Lieutenant-Colonel.
As the other soldiers sing, Mustang reaches into his pocket, pulls out his gloves, and puts them on. The pace of the music playing then suddenly accelerates.
Mustang:
My alchemy is peerless when I put on my ignition gloves,
The transmutation circles on them let me fire from above,
A snap from my two fingers, and then I will make the sparks go fly;
And then you'd best be kissing your own -ahem- goodbye.
I've learned of all the progress that's been made in modern alchemy,
I know much more of tactics than that novice, Ed; he's just a flea,
Besides, I've got a touch of fire elemental strategy,
He places his two fingers in the 'snap' position, but doesn't actually perform the gesture, thankfully.
Mustang:
A far more talented Lieutenant-Colonel you will never see.
Soldiers:
A far more talented Lieutenant-Colonel you will never see,
A far more talented Lieutenant-Colonel you will never see,
A far more talented Lieutenant-Colonel you will never, ever see.
Mustang then places a foot upon a chair and strikes a pose, now completely absorbed in his song.
Mustang:
For my military knowledge, though I'm handsome and quite witty,
Extends far past the turn of the twentieth century;
In short, in matters classified, top secret and in general,
I am the very model of a modern Lieutenant-Colonel.
Unfortunately, everyone else is far too absorbed in singing at this point to notice that Hawkeye, pushed far beyond her tolerance limit, has pulled out her gun, and has aimed it directly at Mustang.
Soldiers:
In short, in matters classified, top secret and in general,
He is the very model of a modern Lieutenant-Colonel.
Hawkeye squeezes the trigger. A round of shots are heard, and then, the sound of a needle scratching off a record. Havoc, Fury and Breda scurry out of the room, frightened out of their wits. The lieutenant gives the only other remaining person in the room, a long, measuring stare.
Surprisingly, Mustang is still alive and well, without a mark on him. Dusting off miniscule particles from his uniform, he then turns to look beside him.
The phonograph sits beside Mustang... At least, what's left of it. Five bullet holes now marr its surface; plus, the needle arm has been shot clean off.
The lieutenant-colonel pulls the record off the remains of the phonograph and inspects it; there is now a long groove across it, where the path of the needle has scratched it. He holds the record up to the light to examine it closely, and it breaks into two.
Displaying the cracked record to Hawkeye, he shot her a pained look. "Really, Lt. Hawkeye... Was that absolutely necessary?"
Despite herself, the lieutenant found herself giving her superior officer a smug grin.
"Yes. Yes, it was, sir," she replied, as she reloaded her gun, then replaced it back into its holster. "And I'd do it again, too."
At this, Mustang could only raise an eyebrow.
END
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Perhaps I should've mentioned at the beginning that this was a song parody, but I didn't want to spoil the surprise. (Besides, if you couldn't tell by the title...)
The song being parodied (in case you didn't know) is "I am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General" from the comic operetta, "Pirates of Penzance" by Gilbert and Sullivan. Oddly enough, this song would have been contemporary during this time period, since it was composed in 1879 (assuming Gilbert and Sullivan existed in FMA in the first place!).
Also, if you're wondering why Mustang is a Lt. Colonel in the story and not a Colonel (apart from the obvious fact that that rank would be easier to substitute into the song), that does happen to be his military rank at the beginning of the series, if you recall... (And BTW, I'm the one who actually rewrote the lyrics to the song, not Roy! -winks-)
For a midi of the song and the original lyrics, check my writing journal; the link is in my bio.
