Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ The Military Transvestite ❯ Pink Sparkles ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Finally, chapter 3. -Author cackles to herself- I am so evil...

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. The day I do is the day the world ends, knowing my luck...

Pink Sparkles

Roy sat forlornly at his desk, determinedly sulking. He should have been doing his paperwork, but really, sulking was much more fun.

Roy glared angrily at a pile of papers, and then watched with malicious glee as they instantly combusted without his having to even click his fingers. Unfortunately for him, Riza came in immediately afterwards with a new, larger pile. 'So much for this miraculous new alchemical breakthrough' he thought grumpily.

Roy was distracted from his mutinous thoughts by the sound of people screaming and running. Many people. He poked his head out of his office door, cheered by the concept of watching somebody else's misery.

He was most definately not prepared to see a haze of pink sparkles coming towards him at frightening speed.

Roy quickly debated whether it would be better to join the screaming and running masses or hide under his desk, hoping said desk wouldn't choose that instant to give way under the stacks of paperwork. Shuddering at the thought of evil paperwork, Roy decided that it would be safer to join the masses and risk being trampled. However, before he could act on his decision, he was enveloped by the cheerfully glittering pink cloud and a disembodied voice boomed around him.

'Oh my God!' thought Roy wildly 'It's judgment day and I'm wearing a skirt...'

Before Roy had time to panic, the pink cloud seemed to dissipate a little and Major Armstrong became visible.

"Colonel Mustang, so you have finally revealed your true sexuality!" boomed Major Armstrong, with tears running down his face. Roy winced as the window cracked."I should have known all those women were merely a cover! You are a very brave man, and an inspiration to us all!"

Roy sweat-dropped nervously "Um, A-Armstrong, it's n-n-not..."

"I know!" he was interrupted in mid-stutter by a very, very pleased Armstrong "I, Alex Louis Armstrong, shall teach you the amazing waxing technique which has been passed down through generations of Armstrongs!"

Roy suddenly found himself drowning in a pool of his own sweat as Armstrong somehow pulled a waxing kit from nowhere.

"Armstrong, th-that's, um..." he desperately tried to think of a way out, but his brain had stopped working from the shock and fear he was feeling. Unfortunately, Armstrong, happily preparing the waxing strips for use, wasn't even listening to the token protest Roy's brain had automatically offered up for use.

"Aaaaagh! Armstrong! Th-that's... Gyah!"

Half of the military was now crowded around Roy's office door, listening to the, shall we say, interesting, noises that were coming from the room within. Riza sweat dropped. She could almost see the ecchi thoughts emanating from the crowd. She considered using her gun to send everybody back to work, then noticed that the Fuhrer had just fainted from blood loss, somebody having explained to him what they thought the noises meant.

Deciding to make the poor people's lives hell after Ed was OK, she busied herself by helping the young (A/N and handsome) Fuhrer to the infirmary.

About 10 minutes and 16 nosebleeds later, the door to Roy's office was thrown open with such force that several people hit the wall at the opposite end of the room. Armstrong stood in the doorway for a moment, silhouetted against his pink sparkles, before brushing past all the people and leaving the building.

There was silence for a moment, then all at once everybody tried to push through the small doorway. After a few gunshots and yells, Riza managed to acheive at least a pretence of order, and everybody filed through the door, squashing like sardines into the small room.

A very grey Roy lay on his desk next to the abandoned waxing kit.

As the people filed in, Roy looked up.

"What are you people here for?" Roy groaned

There was silence.

"Well?" he snapped.

Several people backed away nervously. Ed just happened to be the unfortunate person who attracted Roy's attention.

"Fuhre, may I enquire as to what these people are doing here?" Roy asked nastily. Roy was apparently the type of person who tends to get nasty when in pain.

Ed sweat-dropped nervously. "Well... um... they said something about a desk..." he trailed off, trying desperately to stop the nosebleed that threatened to return if he continued.

Roy attempted to glare through his agony. "You people are soooo lucky I'm in too much pain to move..."

If anybody would like to tell me their ideas on how to torture Roy next, I would love to hear them. Also, I would love for you guys to tell me if Ed should be tall or short.

And I still haven't got over the problem of just how Ed became Fuhrer and nobody else has been promoted...