A Random Random Story of Randomness

By: Foxy18

Ch. 4

By the time the crew got back to the woman they had hit, it was well past 2:34 in the afternoon. They had traveled three miles from the military base. Twice.

They had left Kikyo to rot on the side of the road next to a popular Subway restaurant, where she had apparently worked as a whore for fifteen long years, before she became Naraku's lesbian lover.

Miroku was also abandoned.

"We're never gonna get to the Bahamas at this rate!" Winry complained, pouring her lemonade over Ed's flaming hair, putting the hot, spicy, and fiery blaze out for good.

"God, I know!" Riza whined. "We were set back a whole four minutes. That's like, three days Bahamas' time!"

Al nodded knowingly, brushing flakes of dried blood from his broken, fully human nose.

"You know what I'm gonna do when we get there?" Armstrong asked hypothetically.

"What?" Ed prompted him.

"Change my pants."

"When we get there, I think I'll play with some coconuts." Winry remarked. "They've got a lovely bunch of coconuts over there."

"Ah, I've been to the Bahamas before." Fury piped up, his voice muffled by Armstrong's broad shoulders. "They had a carnival showman there. You know what he said to me one day, while I was examining his coconuts?"

"What?" Asked Riza.

" 'Give 'em a twist, a flick of the wrist.' . . . That's what the showman said."

"Really?" Mustang pondered this. "How interesting."

"Yeah. Then he said to stop playing with his balls and replace his pants where they formerly were; above his ankles."

"The hell?" Mustang looked at Fury in disgust.

The pimp mobile was silent for a while, as everyone contemplated Fury and his exotic Bahamian experience, with the foreign Bahamian Carnival Showman named Rudy Sherbuckson.

"I brought coconuts."

Everyone turned to the speaker, Ed.

"What?" Winry enquired. "Where did you get the coconuts?" She flicked her long golden mane over her shoulder, slashing Riza's eyes open with their razor sharp tips of death.

Ed hesitated. "I found them." He sighed. " The swallow may fly south with the sun . . . or the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter . . . yet these are not strangers to our land."

" . . . What?" Mustang asked, confused.

"Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?" Winry continued with her questioning.

"Not at all. They could be carried."

"Oh, you can't be serious."

"What?" Riza asked helplessly, groping around, her eyes dripping bits of a fluid that no one recognized. "I . . . I can't see. It seems to have affected my hearing. Did you say . . . A swallow carrying a coconut?"

"Yeah," Ed answered. "It could grip it by the husk."

"Oh! Its not a question of where it grips it!" She shouted. "It's a simple question of weight ratios! A five-ounce bird couldn't carry a one-pound coconut! Listen, in order to maintain air speed velocity, a swallow needs to beats its wings 43 times every second, right?"

Ed pondered this. "It could be carried by an African swallow."

"An African swallow, maybe, but not a European swallow . . . that's my point."

"Oh, I agree with that."

"But then of course African swallows are non-migratory. So they couldn't bring a coconut back anyway."

"But what if two African swallows carried it together?"

"Shut the hell up!" Mustang burst out.

Everyone became quiet. So quiet, in fact, that if you listened carefully, you could hear Fury's agonizing moans of pain as Armstrong adjusted himself, grinding his rock hard buttocks further into the pelvis bone of Fury's . . . pelvis.

Riza coughed. "My lack of sight and hearing has made me realize that I am deeply in love with Kikyo. Please excuse me, gentlemen!" She flung herself out the pimp mobile.

"Oh," Al begun. "Isn't that girl dead."

"AWKWARD!" Winry sang.

Mustang casually turned the radio on.

It was silent.

The radio, I mean.

Ed closed the open car door.

Armstrong repositioned himself and noted that the person sitting under him wasn't moving . . . Or breathing. He paused.

"Erm, Colonel Mustang?"

"What is it, Mr. Wet Pants."

"I . . . I think Fury is . . . Well, he's dead, sir."

"That's it! We're turning back!"

Fin:

Disclaimer: Don't own any Monty Python material.