I seriously just need to rap this up so that I can sleep at night. Damn, it's been clinging to life for like, four-ish years now.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

The Friggin' End

"Okay, y'know what?" Jewel climbed onto the stage. "Guess what, guys? This fanfiction has been a zombie for about five years now, because I'm a lazy asshole." She smiled. "On top of which, Idol now has a new judge, which really destroys all the superficial logic of that show. Even more—"

"—Can you just…y'know give the award?" Fury meekly asked, currently tired of being held hostage for five years. "I'd kind of like to, well, see my family and have a little freedom."

Jewel whipped him. "SILENCE PRISONER! As I was saying—I was a fucktarded thirteen-year-old when I wrote this stupid sack o' shit. It's not even real writing! It's was something of a scatterbrained, brain fart! Oh, and—" she glared at Ed "—I actually LOVE Disney now."

"Not my fuckin' problem!" he yelled.

"So guess what? YOU GET NO IDOL TROPHY!"

Ed called Jewel a bitch and flipped her off.

"So, y'know what? RIZA! Take it!"

"The song I sang was completely out of character," she groaned, as she caught the thing.

"Whatever, I'm out bitches!" Jewel disappeared.

Then the cast was free. Free. After five long years of imprisonment, bad singing, dead cats, poor humor, out of character-ness, weird songs, psycho fans, weird plot holes, and countless Big Lipped Alligator Moments—they were free.

So they frolicked into the sun and lived happily ever after. Except Armstrong. Nobody ever found him again.