Transplantations, Story 4

Rating: PG, but only for two mild curses and mention of most totally hot babes, so it'd pass for G

Disclaimer: I suppose I could lay claim to Mike and the Church and the Sons of Miktu. Not that I think I'll ever have any reason to. Ed, Al, and Roy are unsurprisingly not mine.

Series Summary: Stories wherein characters from other universes are integrated into the FMA universe.

Chapter Summary: Ed and Al are sent on a journey to find a cult that claims to possess something very like the Philosopher's Stone. Not knowing the name of this cult, they get a little lost...

Notes: I have no idea where this came from. None. But I like it... ; Like always, knowledge of the Bill and Ted movies helps, but I don't think it's entirely necessary. Particularly with this one, where the characters are only referenced indirectly. Just know they were weird-talking California teens in (I believe) an 80's comedy.

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4. Wyld Stallyns

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"Right," Ed said, looking around the town square. "So we're looking for a cult."

"Yes."

"Which no one told us the name of."

"Right."

"Much less the location."

"I know."

"Someday I'm really gonna have to kill him."

"Brother, we've been over this, I can't have you going to jail!"

"Yeah, but if I don't get caught... I won't get caught. So how d'you think one goes about finding a cult?"

Al shrugged. "Stand around on corners looking in need of spiritual guidance?"

"Yeah, I don't suppose we could just say we're looking for a cult, can you take us to their leader."

"You're looking for a cult?" asked a man passing by.

Ed whirled around, half-afraid of a confrontation. "Yeah."

"Those kooks. Couple blocks to the right, place with the poster on the door." The man continued on his way.

"Uh, thanks!" Al called after him.

"...Okay then," Ed said, and led the way down the sidewalk. "See any posters?"

"Uh-- yeah. Wow, that's a strange-looking poster. I think they spelled 'wild' wrong."

"Not to mention 'stallions'. What, don't cults have proofreaders or something?" Ed paused. "Do you think we should knock?"

Al shrugged. "Most churches are always open. Maybe cults follow the same paradigm...?"

"Hell with it." Ed tried the door. It opened. "Okay then."

"Hello, our excellent friends!"

Ed blinked and almost slammed the door shut again. "Excuse me?" he called, poking his head through the door.

"Oh! You must be new! Most excellent!" A man in a shirt that had the same design as the poster on the door put down a large box to shake Ed and Al's hands. "Come on in!"

Warily, Ed did. Al followed, and closed the door behind him.

"So! Have you heard about our most noble society?" the man asked, grinning.

"Uh, no, actually," Ed said, thrown a little, "we were gonna come in here to find out what it's about. Someone said you were a cult?"

"Whoa, that's so totally bogus!" The man made a dismissive gesture. "That's what all those government ugly dudes say. They fear our awesome power. Or, well, we don't really have awesome power right now, but we could. Come in, sit down, have a cupcake!"

"A...cupcake?" Ed asked, slightly stunned, following the strange man to the chapel.

"Yeah, it's part of our philosophy, dude: Be Excellent to Each Other. Here, eat a cupcake, I'll tell you our story. Oh, dude, do you--"

"No thanks," Al said.

"Righteous." The man went across the room to retrieve a cupcake. Ed turned to Al, and they stared at each other for several seconds.

"Right! I'm Mike, by the way. You guys are?"

"Uh, I'm Ed, and this is my brother Al. So, what is this place?"

Mike beamed. "This is the Church of the Wyld Stallyns!"

"...The what exactly?"

"The Wyld Stallions. See, it all began late one night when the most excellent prophets Bob, Jake and Steve were on their way home from a most triumphant night on the town. And suddenly, a strange glass box did appear from nowhere before their eyes! And they were sore afraid, dude."

'And sauced,' Ed thought to himself.

"And from that box did come four people, who said, 'Most excellent dudes, be not afraid! For we mean no harm, and are merely travelers on a journey to find these most totally hot babes who were kidnapped by an evil king. You haven't seen them around, have you?' And Bob, Jake, and Steve said they had not."

"Okaaaay," said Al.

"And the four travelers asked if they could find a place to crash for the night, and Bob did lead them to his place, wherein they all passed out. And in the morning, Steve did ask, 'Who are you people? And what is this most mysterious glass box that does block the way to Bob's bathroom?' And the four said, 'It is a phone booth.'"

"Right," said Ed.

"And then the four travelers did introduce themselves, and explained that they were from an alternate dimension, and were on a journey to recover their lost bandmates, who also were hot babes. One was a wise old man from their planet's future. One was the Grim Reaper of Souls. And the other two were Bill S. Preston, Esquire and Ted 'Theodore' Logan, of the most excellent band Wyld Stallyns!"

"Wait... did you say the Grim Reaper of Souls?" Ed asked.

Mike nodded. "Bill and Ted had confronted him on their journey, and had defeated him in a most rigorous tournament to earn the right to return to their lives on Earth. So he followed them around a lot. His job was most boring."

"Riiiight," Ed said. "Go on."

"And the travelers did reveal that the music of Wyld Stallions had the power to create harmony within the universe, to enable communication with the stars-- and even with common household pets! They gave us copies of this music..." Mike held up a strange object. "But we're still trying to figure out how to play it. It looks almost like a grammophone record, but it doesn't have any grooves on its surface. It is most perplexing."

"Yeah," Ed said, "I'd imagine it would be."

"And before they returned to their quest, departing our universe in their magical phone booth, they did impart unto Bob, Jake, and Steve the fundamental precepts of peace that can guide our universe into eternal peace and harmony!"

"And those are?" asked Ed.

Mike's face grew deathly serious. "Be Excellent to Each Other," he intoned gravely.

Ed blinked. "Yeah, you mentioned that one."

"And PARTY ON, DUDES!" Mike grinned. "You aren't eating your cupcake!"

Ed hastily took another bite, hoping it didn't contain some sort of hallucinogen. "So-- don't you have some kind of god or something?"

"Nah." Mike shrugged. "We don't care if you believe in a cow goddess from Mars. Anyone who will follow these precepts is welcome here. We believe faithfulness to these two guidelines will create peace and harmony, if they are not only known but acted upon from the heart. So-- we're not too big on dogma."

Ed stopped chewing his cupcake for a moment as he realized that this made a strange kind of sense.

"So? What do you think?" Mike grinned at them expectantly.

Ed swallowed. "Well... In the end it's not any worse than the other religions I've come across..."

"And in a lot of ways, it's actually kind of better," Al opined.

"Yeah, maybe we should actually try that," Ed said, blinking.

"Excellent! All we ask is that people try. Would you like to come to our weekly party tomorrow?"

"Uh, we're kinda just passing through," Ed said, finishing his cupcake. "In fact, I think we're kind of accidentally in the wrong place. You don't happen to have any holy relics at all, do you? Much less the Philosopher's Stone."

Mike blinked. "The Philosopher's Stone? My teacher told me that was a hoax created by medieval dead dudes who were trying to pretend they were better than each other."

"Yeah, that's probably true," Ed sighed. "Anyway, we're supposed to be looking for some cult in town that says they have the Stone and is using it to... something. I can't remember. Did he ever even say?"

"Possibly not," Al said.

Mike blinked. "Oh, yeah! I know who you're talking about. Those most repulsive dudes on the other side of town. They call themselves the Sons of Miktu and say it's their destiny to rule the world. They're supposed to have something like that, yeah."

"Excellent!" Ed cried, before he could stop himself. "Yeah, I'm supposed to check that out. Do you know where I can find 'em?"

"Uh--" Mike dug out a few pamphlets and scribbled down an address. "Here, I believe. If you get lost, look for the ugly dudes in black capes."

"Thanks!" Ed shot an honest grin at Mike. "You guys are most excellent. Your kind words and wise precepts shall stay in my mind as I most probably do battle with these Miktu dudes."

"Hey, you're already picking up the lingo!" Mike pulled him into a hug. "Good luck, dude! May the peace of the Wyld Stallyns be with you on your journey."

"Thank you!" Al said, as they went to the door.

Mike picked up his box again. "And PARTY ON, DUDES!" he yelled as they left.

Ed closed the door behind him. "Well. That was weird."

"They really do have a point."

"Yeah, kinda. In a really, really weird way."

"Yeah. It was abnormal."

"Yeah. Let's go get in a fight with those psycho ugly dudes, that'll get things back to normal."

"Lead the way..."

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"...didn't even recover the STONE and--"

"It was a piece of colored glass!"

"Well, we'll never know now, will we?" Mustang glared at him. "AND you threw the city into complete chaos--"

"THEY were the ones who'd wanted to take over, it's not MY fault it just happened to coincide with my arrival!"

"And NOW most of the city leaders are members of something called-- is this a typo?-- the Church of the Wyld Stallyns! And THEY'RE causing trouble! Now what do you have to say for yourself!"

Ed paused, and looked at his brother.

"WELL!"

"Your behavior is most outrageous," Al noted.

"Our actions were most reasonable and our attack on the culter ugly dudes unavoidable," Ed said judiciously.

"The Stallynites will be leaders of much excellence. They have many skills and values."

"And YOU," Ed said, rising, "need to grow up. I didn't do a damn thing wrong and you know it. What you need to learn... are the great precepts of universal peace and harmony as taught by Bill S. Preston, Esq. and Ted 'Theodore' Logan."

Ed walked up to Mustang's desk and caught the Colonel's face between his hands, looking at him with great seriousness and sincerity from three inches away.

Somberly, Ed intoned to the startled, wide-eyed Colonel, the First Precept: "Be Excellent to Each Other."

He kept his hands on Mustang's face for a few more seconds, just to freak him out, and unceremoniously let him go, striding calmly out the door.

"And PARTY ON, DUDES!" the brothers yelled to Mustang's subordinates as they left.

Mustang might have been able to keep up his habitual air of stoicism, even after this, had not everyone in his office immediately begun to cheer.

He spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what in the hell had just happened.

Probably, he knew, he deserved it.

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