ISAS: Yay! My second fic! It's a one-shot though, but who cares?
CP: Obviously no one, seeing as the most likely outcome is that no one will read this in the first place…
ISAS: Please excuse one of my assistants, he's very negative at times… on with the story! This is just a rambling fic where Ed, Al, and Roy discuss what they're funerals would be like. A few Homunculi join the conversation as well. Stupidity ensues.
WARNING: This story is very random, and in my opinion rather badly written. Even so, flamers beware. I shall incinerate you back at ten times the power.
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I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any related titles. If I did… (evil grin)
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It was mid-afternoon in East City Headquarters; the July heat suffocating most ambitions to move at all. However, a certain blonde-haired alchemist and his younger brother fought against the urge to collapse from heatstroke as they made their way to Colonel Roy Mustang's office. Well, the first one did anyway. At the moment he very much envied his companion for his inability to register temperature.
Once in the office, Edward sighed with relief as he realized the Colonel had the air-conditioning on full blast. However, this did not stop him from releasing the anger he had held on the way there. "WHAT THE HELL IS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU WOKE ME UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND HAD US TRAVEL TWO DAYS TO GET HERE?" The pint-sized teenager yelled to his superior, whom was obviously enjoying Ed's explosion. "Oh, nothing much," Mustang replied with his trademark smirk. "It's just that Lieutenant Hawkeye is taking a few personal days and I was getting bored."
If Al hadn't been restraining his brother, Roy's body would be laying in a very awkward position on the ground outside his window after that comment. Thankfully for his wellbeing, that's exactly what Al did as Ed screamed curses at him. "Now, now, Fullmetal," the older man said in a mock-warning tone, "If you don't settle down I may have to get Major Armstrong in here, and that wouldn't be fun for any of us."
Once Ed's growling protests died down, Al asked, "So what exactly do you want to talk about?"
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"That STILL doesn't explain why Jessica Simpson would lose if she wrestled Harriet Tubman!" Roy exclaimed in the middle of a heated discussion between Al and himself. (Ed decided not to get involved… Smart move, Ed!) "I mean, if Harriet got a weight thrown at her head…" (A/N Just goes to show ya, never try talking to Colonel Mustang when he's bored)
Al wasn't about to give up on his side of the argument, so he protested, "But Harriet Tubman was able to give freedom to millions of— He wasn't able to finish this statement seeing as Ed was getting very annoyed. "Can we PLEASE change the subject?" he interrupted, apparently bewildered as to how they even got on the original stopic. Roy raised an eyebrow and responded, "Well what do YOU want to talk about that's so much more important than the outcome of a wrestling match between Jessica Simpson and Harriet Tubman?"
"Oh, I don't know," the small alchemist said in a less irritated tone, "I was just wondering what my funeral will be like when I die." Roy appeared to be interested, "You know, that question has been eating away at me too." Al sat and looked as thoughtful as one could in a suit of armor and then said, "Well, I want my funeral to be fun. You know, ping-pong tables, pretty flowers, cats, chocolate, more cats…"
Ed smirked and made his addition to the conversation: "Well, I was thinking of
something like a beach funeral. The sand would make burying me easier. And there would be a little hot dog stand… oh! And they could prop up my coffin so I could surf."
"Good luck trying to find a coffin small enough for you," the colonel remarked. Ed growled, "Ok then, smart one, what would be so great about YOUR funeral?" Roy opened his mouth as if to reply, but the shattering of glass behind his desk distracted the three. Standing in the room were none other than Lust, Envy, and Gluttony, two of which were obviously drunk.
"Prepare for trouble!" Lust began in a drunken haze as Envy continued, "And (hic) make it double!" (A/N Can Homunculi even GET drunk?) "Hey!" Roy shouted at them, "I was just about to share what MY funeral would be like!"
"Funerals (hic) huh?" Envy said with a spark of curiosity, "Well, mine would feature Jerry Seinfield doing his imitation of a duck while a bunch of tap-dancing monkeys sing 'Sweet Home Alabama'. (hic) What about you Gluttony?"
Everyone looked at the overweight being, who said after about five seconds of thought, "There would be food…" Lust took this as her opportunity to explain her funeral. "I was thinking something more dignified. I'd have it around the English Channel and have people hired to say really good things about me."
Finally, it was Roy's turn, who loudly said, "Dignified, shnignified! I want ELEPHANTS! LOTS OF ELEPHANTS! And circus girls would be my pallbearers. I want 'em enthusiastic in those little frilly skirts! Heh heh heh!" After several moments of uncomfortable staring, Ed, Al, Lust, Envy, and Gluttony walked out of Mustang's office mumbling about how crazy he was.
"Did I overdo it it?" Roy asked no one in particular.
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ISAS: Wow, that was a very random one-shot. No idea where I got THAT from.
CP: Yeah you do, you got it from watching MST3K remember?
ISAS: Oh yeeeeeeeah… well for the record, I don't own that either.