Unfortunate
Soldiers stationed at Central often felt that they had been dealt a rough hand. Sure, Central had beautiful weather most of the time, but it was easy to forget the rain in the east and the snow in the north when lunch time rolled around.
See, lunch time was when most everyone in the building was in the same room, the Mess Hall, at the same time, noon. Which meant the soldiers had to deal with Colonel Mustang's men, and occasionally, Mustang himself. And that lead to, ah, interesting experiences.
Like the time when one of Mustang's Second Lieutenants had decided it would be prudent to lick fellow male, Sergeant Major Fury (they only knew his name because when he had elbowed the lieutenant in the stomach he had replied with a rather loud proclamation of "Ow! Fury!" which was quickly followed by another elbow in the gut).
Of course, as scarring as that had been, it was nothing compared to the time the Colonel had spent the entire lunch with a blond in plain clothes in his lap (it had yet to be determined whether said blond was male or female). Needless to say, Mustang's tray had gone back untouched.
They weren't even willing to think about the Lieutenant Colonel who seemed to think that everyone lived to hear about his daughter's latest conquests.
And the Fuhrer wondered why he got so many letters requesting the immediate transfer of Colonel Mustang and his men.
End
a/n: We're going to pretend Hughes isn't dead. Just for fun. Just go with it .
