Hello everyone, and welcome to 2007! I'm graduating in less than 5 months! Woohoo! Well, I'd just like to start off by apologizing… I meant to do a lot of updates over the break, but ended up being sick or grounded for the entire break (I was only grounded for two days, and I grounded myself… It actually worked… my parents aren't mad at me anymore!), and didn't get to anything at all that I had planned to do, including college applications.

I don't like making New Year's resolutions, but this year I really, really want to do one, and I think I can make it work: my resolution is to write a little bit each day, and to post something, ANYTHING at least two times per month (every other Saturday). This goes for all my stories, mind. Now, I know that that doesn't sound like a lot, but any college-bound student (or one already in college) could back me up in that just posting two times per month is going to put my schedule way over the top. So – I'm doing my best, I promise!

Ok, today's cracked-out installment is brought to us by… (drum-roll): Falcon226 and Yumizuki! Yaaaay! Thanks, you guys! Keep sending me all of your fun and potentially cracked-out stories, ok? I love to hear from all of you!

And speaking of hearing from people, I've decided to do a Q&A session for one of my other stories, if you guys are interested, or have any questions for me about "Adventures," etc., I'd be more than happy to do a similar session for this set of stories! If you have a question, then drop me a P.M. or just say so when you review! (You are all reviewing, aren't you?)

Disclaimer: I do not own any FMA character, and I do not in any way support the use of drugs or the misuse of alcohol – I just think it's hilarious when tv characters get high.

Roy and Havoc's Cracked-Out Adventures: Ed's Party

"What are we doing here again?" Roy Mustang grumbled as he slouched in his seat at the back of the dimly-lit room, the happy, shining lights of the disco ball contrasting sharply with his less-than-happy mood.

Jean Havoc laughed. "We're here for the kid's birthday party, remember?"

"Huh. What's so special about turning sixteen?" Roy muttered, eyes glazed over and staring at nothing in particular.

Havoc nudged his friend in the side playfully. "Aw, come on, don't tell me you weren't excited when you were sixteen? Besides, it's a great opportunity to see the Lieutenant get smashed."

Perking up slightly at this argument, the Flame Alchemist couldn't help but agree. He casually scanned the crowd, looking for some sign of a sniper gone wild.

"Don't bother, she hasn't been near the bar yet," Havoc told him. Roy slumped back down again. "Quit being so moody, Roy! We're here to have fun!"

Roy glared at him out of the corner of his eye. "Fun, huh?"

"Yeah, fun! Like dancing or something!" Havoc said enthusiastically, hoping that maybe enthusiasm would be contagious in Mustang's case. It wasn't.

"How the hell am I supposed to have fun," Roy muttered as he looked his subordinate full in the face, "when I'm now the Master of Hopping?"

Havoc was silent. Completely silent. The room wasn't silent though, thanks to the thudding of the bases in the background and the loud music. He leaned closer towards Roy, thinking that maybe the racket was resulting in hearing loss. "What was that, Colonel?"

"I said," Mustang told him in a dangerously low tone, "how the hell am I supposed to have fun when I'm now the Master of Hopping?"

Havoc stared blankly at him, while inside he was writhing with turmoil. 'HOLY SHIT! MUSTANG'S GONE OFF THE DEEP END! Did he get into Ed's stash?'

Mustang mutely answered these unasked questions by propping his foot up on the cheerfully-decorated table.

Havoc stared at the foot, wide-eyed. 'Yup, he's gone…'

"Well?" Mustang asked darkly, waiting for Havoc's response.

"Well, no wonder you can't have fun, sir, you're missing your shoe."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT'S BOTHERING ME!" Roy shouted, completely and utterly vexed beyond the point of reason, "Look at my ankle!" he demanded.

Havoc did look. After a close inspection he finally sighed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head back and forth slowly. "You really have gone off the deep end, haven't you, chief?"

Roy began to tear at his hair. "My ankle!" Roy hissed. "I twisted it! It's sprained!"

Havoc looked at it again. "It is?"

"YES!" Roy shouted. "It's swollen!"

Havoc peered more closely. "Ohhhhh!" he said finally, the little light-bulb clicking on in his head. "It was hard to tell with your sock in the way. That and the lighting's bad," he said casually.

Roy banged his head on the wall behind him.

Havoc grinned. He loved doing stuff like this. 'But now to be serious…' he thought, becoming somber. "Roy?" he asked seriously.

Roy stopped banging his head and looked at Havoc, slightly surprised. It wasn't like Havoc to talk in such a manner unless something was really, really screwed-up. "Yeah?" he asked, just a little apprehensively.

Havoc looked at him straight in the eyes, tight-lipped and deadly serious. He slowly opened his mouth to speak…

Roy held his breath, shutting out the loud music and training his ears on Jean's every word…

"How the hell does that make you the Master of Hopping?"

Roy's jaw looked like it was going to fall off of his face. He was expecting something big and dangerous – like that Fuery was a homunculus, or that Riza was drunk out of her mind (which, unbeknownst to him, she was). "B-because," he finally spluttered out after regaining his ability to speak, "I've had to hop around on one foot all evening! I was forced into a dance with the wife of some big-wig, and then I twisted my ankle, and now I've become the Master of Hopping – haven't you noticed?"

Jean fidgeted slightly. "Um, no… sorry."

"What do you mean? Everyone saw me! They were all laughing at me!"

"I guess I wasn't around, chief, sorry," Havoc laughed in a nervous manner as he loosened his tie, his eyes no longer focused on Mustang but flitting from object to object across the room.

Mustang eyed him suspiciously. "Oh? Well, where were you, then?"

"Umm…"

Roy stared at Havoc, his eyes narrowing as Havoc started squirming in his seat. Suddenly, the little light-bulb in Roy's head went on. His eyes went wide and his jaw began to drop again. He turned around in his chair so fast that his propped foot hit the floor with a thud, as it found itself propped on air. Roy winced, but it didn't deter him. "You didn't…" he said slowly, not wanting to believe it.

Havoc nervously scratched at his head, trying desperately to avoid Mustang's eyes. "Um, well…"

"Holy crap, you DID!"

"You see…"

"YOU WERE GETTING HIGH WITH ED IN THE BATHROOM, WEREN'T YOU?"

"Uhhh," Havoc stuttered with a nervous smile, "not just Ed… A-and I didn't actually smoke anything! I just stood there! Honest! I smoked my own cigarettes!"

Mustang glared at his subordinate. "What happened to the security guards? Weren't they supposed to make sure that no one smokes in the building?"

Havoc gave another smaller, more nervous laugh. "Uh… I told you we weren't alone…"

Mustang resumed banging his head against the wall, effectively chipping the paint…

Meanwhile…

"WOOOOOO! PAR-TAAAAAAY!" a boozed-up Riza Hawkeye shouted as she waved a tequila bottle in the air from the middle of the dance floor. "Oh my gawd, you guys, watch this, ok? It's this great new dance!" she giggled manically as she situated herself in the middle of a small clearing made by similarly-drunken onlookers.

Riza began to dance, a funky, peppy little dance. Somewhere between Salsa and God-knows-what. She grabbed the arm of a dark-haired man next to her, whipping him around and bringing him close. She hiked up her leg, wrapping it around his waist as she continued to dance and wave around the tequila bottle.

Maes Hughes stared at her, awkwardness and disgust written all over his face. "I'm not your stripper pole!"

Riza blinked a few times, then began laughing. "Oh my gawd, I'm so, so, so-so-so-so-so sorry! Wrong person!" She snorted, then began looking around the dance floor. "Now where the hell did Roy run off to, then?"

Meanwhile…

A certain blonde-haired birthday boy stood in front of one of the gaily-decorated tables, swaying back and forth and squinting his eyes, concentrating furiously on a festive ball ornament with little glittery spikes all over it. He blinked furiously, then rubbed his eyes with his fists. He squinted again, and blinked again. "Fuzzy banana?" he asked quizzically as he fell over onto the floor in a drug-induced stupor.

The end! I kind of went in a different direction with this one, didn't I? New format and whatnot… Did you guys like it? Something new, something fresh… I may not do it each time, but… yeah! Well, thank you, everyone, for always being so patient with my spastic updates! I value you all! Send me a review, stories, suggestions, and/or questions! Oh, and leave the flaming to Roy, would you?