While I promise I'm getting around to my next Marvel parody, I have been once again sucked into the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom, which has left me with hundreds of plot bunnies and zero motivation to write any of them out. So this is essentially my dumping ground for the ones that I do manage to scrape out, in the form of a bunch of completely pointless oneshots, ranging from complete crack to utter angst.

Enjoy!

And yes, this one is probably complete crack. I'm sorry.

War

It was another despicably dreary day at Eastern Command as resident genius-prodigy Edward Elric trudged down the bleak military-style halls. Any unfortunate passerby was quickly frightened away by the menacing air that hung around the blonde alchemist, his mood clearly as nasty as the weather outside.

Ed rather thought he was entitled to it, though. It was bad enough for yet another lead on the Philosopher's stone to turn up false, but having to report said failure to the Colonel Bastard and deal with the inevitable condescending asshole remarks that would follow…Edward glowered at the wall. One of these days, one of these days he was going to snap, he thought as he turned the corner. He was going to snap and punch that Colonel right in his smug, stupid, fa-

Ed ground to a sudden halt, staring at a half-open supply closet in disbelief. There was nothing particularly remarkable about the simple closet, carrying nothing but an extra supply of mops and cleaning supplies in it, but it was the figure hunched up on the topmost shelf that did Ed in.

"Colonel?!" Ed choked out, torn between laughing sadistically or asking his superior just what the hell he was doing hiding in a supply closet, knees drawn up to his chest like a five-year old.

"Shut up!" Mustang hissed, glancing around fearfully. "And get inside!"

"HELL no, you creepy perv-"

"I'm serious, Fullmetal!" Mustang hissed urgently. Ed looked at his commanding officer, registering he very real terror in Mustang's dark eyes. Against all logic and his better judgment, Ed climbed into the closet, hunched up (but significantly less crushed than Mustang) quite uncomfortably against the older man. Mustang quickly yanked the door shut behind them, leaving them both in semi-darkness.

"Okay, Colonel Bastard," Ed said angrily. "Now that we're all cozy in the supply closet, what the actual hell?!"

"Quiet!" Mustang hissed venomously, dark eyes darting around wildly as he listened for some unseen foe. Once he was apparently sure of the silence, he turned to Ed, nose scrunching up slightly as he realized how close they were. "Oh. Agh. Okay."

If they hadn't been squished side to side in a supply closet, Ed would have laughed at Mustang's uncharacteristic awkward fumbling.

"So," Mustang said, averting his eyes to stare at the door. "As of late, things here have been…um…a tad boring, without certain shrimp around to entertain,"

"Who are you calling a shrimp, you stuck-up pretentious-"

"Shhhhhhhh!" Mustang hissed, clapping a hand over Ed's mouth, effectively halting his rant but doing nothing to subdue the blood rushing to the younger alchemist's face. "Anyways, we have the extreme pleasure of hosting a military conference here this week," he continued hurriedly, "which of course means that, among other ranking officers, Lieutenant Armstrong and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes are in town."

"Yeah yeah, and?" Ed said, not seeing the point in this information.

"Don't interrupt your superiors, Fullmetal."

Ed flushed angrily, feeling the need to point out that most superiors worth not interrupting were normally sane enough not to drag their subordinates into supply closets. Mustang cut him off as he continued.

"Unfortunately, the wondrous excitement military conferences provide proved not nearly enough to satisfy anyone, and, in combination with the lovely weather we've been having, prompted certain people to engage in decidedly…immature…petty acts performed against one another."

"You mean everyone got bored and started a prank war," Ed said, grinning.

"No! Yes…no….yes," Mustang said, uncharacteristic red coloring his cheeks. "Anyways, this morning my team and I, along with Hughes, planned to avenge ourselves against Armstrong's unit by rigging a rather…against-regulations explosive in Armstrong's visitor's locker. Harmless, mind you, but considerably nasty."

"So you hit Armstrong with a smoke bomb, or a stink bomb, or whatever, big deal! Armstrong's a softie, you're both in this prank war, there's no reason to hide in the closet, moron!"

Mustang paled, swallowing nervously. "You see, that would have been the case, had we rigged it to the right locker."

"Ohhhhhh," Ed said, feeling the beginnings of sympathy for the team. "Who'd you get"

"Armstrong."

"Wait-what?"

"The wrong one."

"The wrong-oh. Oh. Ohhhhhhh."

Ed had heard stories of the legendary Armstrong sister, and though he had never met her in person, he had little desire to. Ice queens who could rip you apart at a moment's notice didn't really fall in his want-to-meet list. And Mustang's team had set off a smoke bomb in her locker. Suddenly the supply closet didn't seem near hidden enough.

"It hit her right in the face," Mustang said weakly, all color gone from his face.

"You're dead," Ed said flatly. "You are so unbelievably, completely, irrevocably dead, not even a philosophers' stone would bring you back-"

"I know!" Mustang hissed. "Which is why I plan to stay here until the apocalypse-"

He cut off abruptly as footsteps sounded outside the door, throwing an arm around Ed and pulling them both against the wall. Aware of the terror haunting the halls of Eastern Command, Ed didn't even think to argue.

"Roy!" a hushed whisper came from the hall. "Hey, Roy, where are you?"

"Hughes," Mustang muttered, leaning forward. Ed yanked him back quickly.

"Wait!"

"Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes," came a voice so cold Ed could feel the hallway icing over.

"Oh shi-" Hughes squeaked out before his expletive cut off to terrified screaming.

"THINK OF THIS THE NEXT TIME YOU DECIDE TO PULL SUCH CHILDISH PRANKS, YOU SHIFTLESS LAZY FOOL!" General Armstrong roared over the sounds of her thoroughly thrashing the screaming Hughes.

It was a testament to how terrified both alchemists were that they both clutched each other as they shook in fear.

"I'll always remember you, Hughes," Mustang whispered through his quakes of fear.

"Shut up! Do you want to die?!" Ed hissed at him.

The screaming abruptly cut off and they both froze. Ed held his breath as Mustang grew steadily paler, his grip on Ed's arm slowly growing more and more painful by the second. Which he could say nothing to, seeing as he was gripping Mustang equally tight with his automail arm.

Footsteps clacked louder and louder as they drew close to the supply closet, Hughes moaning in the background. Ed figured that if his lungs didn't burst any second now Mustang was going to explode with anxiety and they would both be brutally murdered by the oldest daughter of the renowned Armstrong family, with a killing technique likely passed down for generations. Ed hysterically pictured his epitaph. "Here lies the Fullmetal Alchemist, brutally murdered after being dragged into a prank war by his superior."

Just as he was sure his lungs were going to burst, the footsteps turned away, fading down the hall.

"Oh, thank GOD!" Ed practically shrieked in relief as the footsteps disappeared.

"Never again," Mustang said weakly as he deflated against the wall. "Never, ever, ever again will I be stupid enough to enter a prank war."

Ed giggled hysterically, collapsing against Mustang's side. So great was the relief of the two that neither even thought to mention it.

"I thought we were dead for sure."

"You and me both," Mustang echoed. "Though now is probably the moment to make a break for it-'

"THERE YOU ARE, MUSTANG YOU RAT!" Ed and Mustang screamed as the door was ripped away to reveal a very, very, angry Olivier Armstrong. "AND YOUR PATHETIC LITTLE SUBORDINATE TOO!"

"It's been an honor serving with you, Fullmetal," Mustang croaked out.

"Likewise, Colonel," Ed squeaked.

Several floors away, Riza Hawkeye was startled out of her paperwork by agonized screaming. She sighed, shaking her head as she sifted through the pile of paperwork. She had warned him. Military pranks wars never ended well.