WARNING: This Fanfic Contains An Extremely Dangerous Amount Of Stupidity That May Cause Harm. Please Do Not Read If You Are Pregnant, Have A Weak Heart, Or Suffer From Mad Cow Disease. The Author Is Not Responsible For Any Brain Injuries You May Obtain From Reading This. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

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Johnny The Turkey

"Fullmetal!"

Edward looked up, "Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Makin' gravy," Edward replied.

"In my bathtub?"

"…Yes."

Mustang groaned and slapped his palm against his brow. "I never should have let you use my washroom. I knew it was a bad idea!"

Edward shrugged, dipping a large stick into the bathtub and stirring the thick, brown liquid inside. "It's your fault, Mustang. Didn't Al ever tell you to never leave me alone unattended for more than two minutes?"

"No, he didn't, Mustang murmured.

Edward stuck his finger in the goop. "Yup, almost done!" he announced, wiping his finger on his trousers.

"Why are you making gravy in the bathtub, anyway?" Mustang asked, leaning over the blond's shoulder to catch a glimpse of the unpleasant smelling aqueous solution in the tub.

"'Cause there's a turkey in the toilet."

"A turkey?" The colonel repeated. He walked over to the toilet and lifted the lid, revealing a large, motionless turkey that had been jammed inside.

"Ed, what happened to it?"

Edward scowled. "He called me a bitch, so I drowned him."

"He… called you a bitch?"

"Yes! Can you believe it? What an awful, awful reptile!"

"Ed, a turkey is a bird."

"Really? Then why is it in the water?"

Mustang deadpanned. "Because you drowned it."

"Really, Mustang. Is that your best excuse?" Edward asked, dropping the stirring stick and getting to his feet, scrubbing his hands on the seat of his trousers. He walked over to Mustang and stood beside him.

"So what are we staring at?"

Mustang pointed to the dead turkey.

Edward's face contorted in disgust. "Ugh! What the hell, Colonel? Why did you drown a poor, innocent walrus?"

"It's not a walrus, Ed. It's a turkey. And I didn't drown it, you did." Mustang responded.

Edward pushed up his sleeve and reached down to fish the dead bird out of the toilet. "This will go well with my gravy," he said as he dragged the turkey to the tub and heaved it into the water.

"There! Now we can feast!"

The turkey bobbed and floated around in the dark muck, leaving a trail of feathers behind it. Undistinguishable dollops of brown compound formed in the mess of gravy.

Mustang was forced to look away. The revolting mess was evoking turmoil in his gut.

"Oh, cool! Look at the frog, Colonel! He's doing the backstroke! 'Atta boy, Johnny!" Edward exclaimed.

Bile rose in Mustang's throat. He swallowed it painfully and gave Edward a stern look. "Edward, would you please take that turkey and leave? You're making me sick!"

"Colonel! Don't talk to my son that way!" Edward scolded.

"Ed, it's a turkey!"

"It's my son Johnny, and I want you to treat him with respect, even though he resembles a disemboweled German shepherd, he's still my son!"

Mustang thread his hand through his hair. "Ed—"

"Would you like some dinner?" Edward interrupted brusquely, pointing to the bathtub.

Mustang shook his head fiercely. "No, thanks."

The younger alchemist shrugged and stooped over the bathtub, lowering his head into the brown muck. "Mmm, you don't know what you're missing— yuck!" He jerked his head out of the water and flailed rapaciously, sending a spray of russet droplets in every direction.

"Ugh! It's horrible! That's the worst pie I ever ate!" he shouted.

Mustang wiped the gravy stains off his uniform. "Which is why I declined," he stated.

Edward scowled at the bathtub. "Great, now what do I do? I can't let this gravy go to waste!"

"Why don't you throw it out?" Mustang suggested.

"How am I supposed to do that? Just scoop it up and toss it in the trash? It's liquid, Colonel. I can't grasp it!"

"Why not use a bucket?"

"Johnny has bucketophobia. It might trigger his epilepsy."

"Ed… Johnny is dead," Mustang said firmly.

Edward's eyes widened and he pointed a shaky finger at the colonel. "You murdered him, didn't you?"

"What? No!"

"Liar! I saw you! You took your bazooka and shot him! I have witnesses!"

"I don't even own a bazooka!"

"Stop lying! I know you're lying! You're a liar, and liars lie!"

Edward paused. "Heh, I just used the word lie like, five times in one sentence."

Mustang rolled his eyes. "Nevermind, Ed. What are you going to do with the gravy?"

Edward rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Take… a bath in it?" He squealed. "Oh, yes! Yes! Sounds like fun!" he slipped off his shirt, trousers and boots and tossed them aside.

"Edward, don't! You're just going to make a bigger mess!" Mustang warned. Alas, his shouts fell upon deaf ears.

"Look out, Johnny!" Edward cried as he leaped into the bathtub, causing a large wave of gravy and feathers to erupt. Mustang shrieked and covered his face as the wave descended upon him, drenching him thoroughly.

"Edward!"

"Looky! Johnny's surfing! Wow, what an incredible seal!"

"Ed, for God sake! He's a freaking dead turkey! He can't even move!"

"Oh, shove it you obnoxious pile of elephant feces!"

"What did you say?" Mustang said gravely, shooting a glare at Edward.

Edward squeaked and pointed an accusing finger at the dead, floating turkey. "It was Johnny!"

The colonel twitched. "Don't play games with me, Fullmetal. I know it was you. That turkey is dead!"

Enraged, Johnny hopped out of the bathtub. "What did you call me?"

Mustang's eyes expanded. "What the hell?"

Johnny walked over to Mustang and gripped the scruff of his shirt, tugging him down until he was eye level with the turkey. "You got something to say to me?" he asked, bitch-slapping the colonel with his wing.

"W-what the hell…!" Mustang repeated obtusely as he stared at the suppose-to-be dead turkey. "But.. but you're… you're dead!"

"You wanna bet?" Johnny replied, extracting a butcher knife out of his… secret pocket.

Mustang shrieked, wriggling out of Johnny's grasp and bolting out the door, flailing his arms.

The turkey was hot on his heels, baring his knife precariously. "Hey, come back here and face me like a man!"

"Help! Help! The turkey is after me! The turkey is after me!"

"Hold still so I can make a clean cut! I don't want to mess up these nice floors!"

"Help me, Jesus! Help me, Spiderman! Smite him with your webs!"

"Mwahahahahahahahaha!"

"Save me!"

Edward laughed. "Oh, God. This is funnier than that time the dead fetus went after him with a mallet."

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I Got The Idea For This Oneshot From A Simpsons Episode, In Which Homer Apologizes To Marge For Making Gravy In The Bathtub. I Hope You Enjoyed It.