Mustang looked unabashedly at Ed's private parts. "So it's not made of automail...hmm...so the tabloids were actually wrong..."

Ed's eyes bugged out and he covered his nether regions. "You old perv! I'll... I'll.." He looked at the PTA leader. "I'll... have relations with you."

"Relations?" Mustang pulled down his pants. "Why, Shrimpy? Do you wish to acquire my 63 STDs?"

"Well..." Ed sighed. "Three of them are curable, right?"

"Once they go through me, they're no longer curable," Mustang sighed happily. "But it's okay,"

Ed gulped and prepared himself for the x-rated activities in which he would be subjected to in a few seconds.

Trisha watched the old man advance onto her first born son. "This oughta make me a pretty penny!" she cackled, readying her video camera.

The PTA watched as Mustang forced himself onto Ed. A female PTA member sighed. "Ah... young love. It never fails to turn me on."

"Stop..." Ed gasped out as he felt something strange going on inside of him. He glared at the PTA president. "After this, I'm reporting you to Child Services."

As the PTA prez was about to say something, Hawkeye burst into the room. "MUSTANG!" She barked, throwing a huge manila envelope at his head. "WHY ARE YOU HAVING RELATIONS WITH A MINOR? FINISH YOUR PAPERWORK FIRST!"

Roy snapped his fingers and the paperwork was burnt to ashes. "There. Done."

Riza glared at the soot. "You're fired," She told Roy.

Roy sneered. "You can't fire me, I'm of a higher rank than you."

Fuhrer Bradley stepped in, wearing his happy face. "Mustang, you're fired,"

"B-b-but sir!" Roy begged and pleaded. "I have a sick wife and thirteen hungry children to feed!"

"Don't worry," said the Fuhrer. "I've already secured you a job as lamp lighter. It pays fairly well, and you being the Flame Alchemist, it should be an easy enough position,"

"FUHRER BRADLEY!" Roy cried. "THINK OF THE CHILDREN!"

"...Mustang, you have no children, or a wife," Fuhrer Bradley took a comb out and ran it through his hair. Pinako fainted. The PTA president watched him jealously. He quietly took out his own comb and compared it to Fuhrer Bradley's.

"Mine is better," He said to himself.

Pinako recovered. "No it's not." she said, making googly eyes at Bradley.

Meanwhile, Roy was still trying to keep his military position while at the same time having relations with Ed.

"You must understand my situation!" He exclaimed as Ed began to scream in pain and pleasure. "I must keep my job, or I won't have enough money to buy miniskirts!"

"Fine." Fuhrer Bradley rolled his eyes. "You'll still be a lamp lighter, but I'll give you a monthly miniskirt stipend, okay?"

"Okay!" Now Roy was happy.

"Now..." Bradley held out a piece of paper. "If you'll just sign these release forms stating that the government will have no responsibility whatsoever in the very likely case that you die on the job, we can get started."

Roy was angry. "Looky here, Mister Fuhrer Guy, I'm busy having relations with a minor right now,"

The Fuhrer smiled knowingly. "Then I'll just leave the papers here and go."

"You do that," So the Fuhrer left.

Ed groaned. "How many more minutes of this do I have to endure?" he asked the PTA prez.

"Mustang can decide for himself," said the PTA prez, frantically combing his hair.

"Really? I can?" Mustang grinned. "I say we go on for another six hours."

-Six Hours Later-

"I am unclean!" moaned Ed after he had taken a shower. "But all I have to do now is get a million cenz and give up my soul!" he smiled cheerfully. The million cenz wouldn't be a problem, as Ed could easily swipe it from purses and cash registers.

-Six Hours Later-

Ed proudly handed over one million cenz to the PTA prez.

"Good job," said the PTA prez. "Now I can buy a nicer comb,"

"I have a question." Ed raised his hand like a good boy.

"Yes?" The PTA prez was already looking through a comb catalog.

"How am I supposed to give you my soul?" Ed asked.

"It's actually very easy," The PTA prez held up a rickety looking device. "I purchased this Soul Extractor Tool on shmeeBay, and with the push of a button, your soul is mine,"

Ed gulped. "Isn't there any alternative to this?" He demanded. "THINK OF THE CHILDREN!"

"You're not a child, you're a shrimp," The PTA prez pointed a rusty needle towards Ed. "Don't worry, this won't be painful,"

Trisha suddenly spoke up. "How's Alphonse doing?"

The PTA prez did not reply, as he was busy extracting Ed's soul.

"Almost there..." he squinted. "There we go!" The PTA prez grasped a slimy, opaque blob in his hands. "Behold! Edward Elric's soul!"

"Congratulations," said a PTA member, patting Ed on the back. "You have paid off your half eaten Ho Ho,"

Ed looked ahead blankly. "Pizza."

"You should buy me some," Roy said happily.

Ed blinked. "Zucchini bread."

"Is this how it is?" Trisha demanded. "My eldest son is a vegetable and my baby boy is a sex slave?"

"Popcorn chicken." Ed hugged his mommy.

Trisha felt better. "Brains~" She followed Ed's food theme.

"Zebra cakes."

"Brains~"

"Cow pie."

"Cauliflower~"

"Asiago meatball."

"Moldy cauliflower~"

"Lobster tail."

"Moldy brains~"

"Clamato juice."

Meanwhile, Al was in a brothel doing XXX related things. "HELP ME~!"

AN: The next chapter will document Al's adventures in the world of Mustang's happy fun time. Review!