Author's Note: Please keep this in mind as you read my story. I am not an experienced fanfic writer. As you can see this is the first story I've ever submitted. And... I am rather infamous for my writing of very idiotic and deranged stories. I would like your honest feedback on my story, but please be kind.

I am really just doing this one for kicks... and for my friend Vorn. I will try to upload more serious works later.

And Disclaimers: I do not own any of these characters. All Fullmetal Alchemist characters are the propert of the brilliant Arakawa-sensei. I'm just here to make an idiot out of myself through them!

and now I'll stopp yammering and let you read the story...

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Ed walked into the pub in the middle of Central's largest Inn accompanied by Lt. Breda.

"The colonel's bound to be in here somewhere," Breda explained to Ed, "So you can tell him your urgent news."

Ed nodded thanks and continued to scour the premises for Mustang. He spotted him in the corner with Lt. Havoc and Lt. Col. Hughes. All of them were looking very drunk. Which is an improvement for you, Colonel, Ed thought wryly as he debated about whether or not to approach them. Dealing with the soldiers in this state would no doubt be even more of a headache than trying to speak to them on a normal day.

Unfortunately, he soon didn't have choice in the matter as Hughes stood up and beckoned him over, calling out very loudly. He then promptly tumbled over like a graceful drunk and began snoring even louder. But Havoc and Mustang had been alerted to his presence. There was no escaping it now.

"What bringsh you here, Fullmetal?" Havoc cried cheerily.

Mustang looked up for a moment, and then returned a mournful gaze to his mug, sighing deeply. "De rum'sh gone…" he looked again at Ed, "Why'sh de rum alwaysh gone?"

Ed bit back a smart remark, pretending to ignore the drunken colonel. Yes, it would pointless to try and talk to them at this time.

Instead he decided to ask where he could find someone to help. "Colonel, do you know where any sober military officials are?" he asked cheerily. Mustang sobered considerably.

"Why do you ask?" he inquired warily.

Ed sighed in resignation. "There's a problem… it seems pirates have invaded Amestris and are headed for Central City," he announced.

Havoc looked at him quizzically. "How could pirates attack us? There aren't any ocean ports around here…"

Hughes suddenly looked up, "Ya think that mattersh to the… the…"

"Author?" Ed suggested helpfully.

"Yesh!" cried Hughes, "The author! Ya think she cares about… about… uh…"

"Logic?" ventured Mustang.

"Right!" Hughes cried again, before promptly collapsing back onto the table.

"He's got a point," Havoc muttered to himself.

"Very well then," Mustang declared, pushing himself up from his chair onto very unsteady legs, "If the fate of the country is in the author's hands, we better move quickly."

Havoc followed suit and the two soldiers began to leave the pub, walking in very drunken swaggers, leaning on each other so they wouldn't fall. Ed followed tentatively, looking over his shoulder at Hughes who had again randomly regained consciousness and was now singing very obscure songs very off-key.

"What about the Lt. Col?" Ed asked after his superiors.

Roy and Havoc both looked over their shoulders at the same time, knocking heads and nearly toppling over each other. Hughes was waving around pictures of his family and singing raucously.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a Pirate'sh life for hic me!"

"Who?" Mustang replied innocently, "I don't know him…" Havoc and Ed, looking very scarred, followed him as they walked away, leaving the drunken Hughes.

"We shomethin and shumthin and… REALLY BAD EGGS! Drink up me heartiesh, yo ho!" Hughes' drunken tenor followed them out the door.