Hey, Everybody! Welcome back! Woohoo, this story's finally been updated! Yeah! (Why am I not using my normal bold italics for my author notes? Well, it's because I'm connected to the internet using a Mac laptop, and ffdotnet doesn't seem to like the browser, so it's not letting me bolditalicize it. Sigh. Oh well, at least I can post at all, right?)
This one's a little different from most of my sketches, in that this one is mostly original, and frankly, has very little Monty Python in it. (It's still Monty Python-LIKE, so I figured that it still counts, heh.) Heh, the only Monty Python thing in this sketch is the Spam reference. The rest came from my own neurotic brain (or I borrowed the joke, from somewhere...or something like that. Heh, I don't always know when I borrow jokes or where I borrow them from. Hehe...oh well.)
Anyway, please enjoy!
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Disclaimer: I do not own FullMetal Alchemist. I wish I did, but I don't, so stop asking! (I own a character named Carl though, who hasn't shown up in any of my fics. He won't either, because he's completely original. I'm writing a new story using him as the protagonist. If any of you want to read it, e-mail me and ask for it.)
"Al!" called Edward, "Al! Where are you?"
"Brother?" responded a voice half-buried in the sand, "Brother! Get away from me, I'm about to explode!" Al quickly jumped up out of the sand and moved away from Ed, when it suddenly dawned upon him that he was able to stand again.
"Brother, my body's back to normal!"
That was confusing to Ed, to say the least, since being in a suit of armor is hardly back to normal, so he asked for clarification. Al explained that Kimbly (or Kimblee, however you wish to spell it) had turned him into a living bomb, and that the only way his life could be saved was if he was transmuted into something else.
When Ed found out that it was Scar who had transmuted Al, he directed a very serious look at Al and said, "Al, open your chest."
Al opened the metal plate that was his chest, and Ed gasped as he saw...a bunch of coconuts topple out onto him.
"Ouch!" yelled Ed, 'Where did those coconuts come from? They're not in the script. You were supposed to be transmuted into the Philosopher's Stone."
"I like coconuts better," said Al.
"You can't be transmuted into a bunch of coconuts!" yelled Ed.
"Why not?"
"Just...Because. I shouldn't have to explain why not."
"But I like coconuts."
"That's no reason to want to be one!"
"It's better than being the Philosopher's Stone. At least no one will chase me if I'm a bunch of coconuts."
Ed sighed and rubbed his head. He could tell that he wasn't going to get anywhere with his brother at the moment. "Okay, fine. Let's just take care of these coconuts, and then we'll try this scene again when you're willing to follow procedure."
The boys started to gather the coconuts back up, but the progress was slow. It took Ed awhile to figure out why, but he soon discovered that Al was playing with the coconuts, rather than picking them up. He even had them lined up in a neat little row, and was singing a little song. How he had ever missed that, he would never know.
"I got myself a lovely bunch of coconuts," sang Al, "Here they are a-standing in a row. Big one, small ones, some as big as your head..."
"Enough already!" interrupted Ed, "Stop playing with those stupid coconuts!"
Al hovered in a defensive position over his charges, and said, "You're mean, Brother! Be nice to my coconuts. You'll hurt their feelings."
Ed scoffed. "They have feelings now? Oh, puhlease!"
Al turned to his coconuts, and said, "Don't worry, Brother doesn't mean it."
"I do too mean it!"
Al ignored him, and picked up one of the monkey-faced coconuts, and showed it to Ed. "Look, Brother, this one looks like you."
That was the last straw for Ed. He transmuted his auto-mail into a blade, and then charged after the coconuts, slicing them to pieces, and spilling the milk everywhere. When it was all over, Ed stood there, panting hard, a smirk of victory on his face. He had won.
Later that day, they were rehearsing the same scene.
"Al, open your chest," said Ed.
Al did so, and Ed gasped as he saw...a bunch of cans of Spam fall out onto him. "Not again! Al, will you quit it?"
"But I like Spam," said Al, defensively.
"Since when? You've never even tasted it...Plus, you haven't eaten anything in the past four years."
"Well...I think I would like it," said Al. Ed sighed and placed his hand over his face, just as Al started singing, "Spam, Spam, Spam, Spamety-Spam...Wonderful Spam..." Ed growled to himself. This was going to be a long day.
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There you go, did you enjoy that? I hope so, hehe. Please leave me a review, okay? Thanks a bunch!
P.S. For some reason, the first time I posted this, the format didn't turn out right. I hope that I've remedied that this time. If you were one of those who saw the bad formatting, I apologize. Hopefully, it won't happen again. Thanks for understanding.
