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13 December 2004 @ 10:44 pm

My third installment of my Christmas drabble responses has cometh. Sanity is that way.

The first is an slightly crackish fic for treesock that's about a very special present underneath the tree for her...

Santa Does Slave Trade


Two women looked at what Santa Claus, that dirty old man, had left the younger of the two beneath the Christmas tree.

“Damn,” the older one swore again.

The younger got down on her knees and touched the gift’s paper wrapping, reverently, almost as if afraid it would disappear if she pressed too hard.

“Why do you always get the best gifts?” the older moaned, sticking the underside of his wrist between her teeth and chewing in the old nervous habit.

“Because,” the younger huffed, “I really do believe in Santa. Now stop ruining my moment.”

The gift stared at the pair, still slightly groggy from being drugged, dragged though the Gate by some wonky old man, and then flown on some strange contraption thousands of miles only to be dumped on the ground beneath a tree in an unknown house. Not only that, but that fat old goat had stripped him so that little green men could tie him up in paper and twine before dumping him down a chimney in a great, ugly sack.

“Wow,” the elder was saying, “who would have thought that Big Man invested in slave trade to bring you Maes Hughes for Christmas.”

A hundred thoughts flooded the man’s brain as the younger began to strip him (again! The indignity of it all), all of them along the lines of the words:

“Oh, fuck,” he said aloud.

They both grinned.

“Certainly,” said the second.

“Damn right,” said the elder.

My second piece for tonight is a drabble for maboroshi_hime  featuring Havoc and Edward with the oh-so-wonderful words: "That doesn't go in your mouth."

Unexpected Gifts
For maboroshi_hime

Central Military Headquarters realized all too late that it was about to be very sorry indeed.

It was bad enough that Roy Mustang – colonel, famed alchemist, and playboy extraordinaire – had opted to prove a wide array of drinks from his personal collection. The high-ups had expected a couple of bottles of good wine and a few beers, but what they actually got were entire crates of very potent wines and several caskets of fine ales that Roy prided himself over, saying:

“Don’t expect Roy Mustang to be stingy on Christmas! It’s an old family transmutation circle for the wines, perfected in Ishbal for my and the troops enjoyment.”

And none of the higher-ups in charge had been able to call him on that because they had drunken the wine he’d transmuted from sand and hardtack during that war. They had then hoped turn-out would be low for the occasion, but that was not to be so for word got around quickly, and many Ishbal veterans expressed their profound love for the Mustang wines, enticing younger recruits to show up just to see and try.

The higher-ups were ready to kill the Flame Alchemist by the time the Christmas party rolled around, and this attracted all those in Central who hated the playboy extraordinaire for one reason or another.


Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc chewed his unlit cigarette and pondered along with half of the congregation. Which should he have first? The red, or the white; something robust or something smooth; or maybe he was feeling adventurous and wanted to try something new? A memory of the Crimson Alchemist nearly bursting into tears after being torn over whether to try the M-1 or S-2 wine genres for half-an-hour came to the surface of his mind.

Some slurped down near to his elbow. “Mm…” the voice said with a bit of a pleased slur, “at least the bastard colonel does something right.”

Edward Elric was hunched over slightly with a small, glass flute, helping himself to a bit of everything set out on the table. A reddish tinge had already worked its way onto the Fullmetal Alchemist’s face.

“Recommending any?” Havoc asked, amused.

“Pervert hobbit fancier,” Edward snapped randomly before pointing to a particularly large and orange bottle; “That’s good. And the Late Harvest is nice, but I think it’s a little too fruity for my tastes.”

Havoc shrugged and reached for the orange bottle. He poured himself a flute, swirled it, and then took a gulp.

“You know,” Edward said absently, “you were doing so well up until there. Almost would think you had breeding.”

The second lieutenant opened his mouth to snap back something witty, but the alcohol hit him in full then and he nearly dropped his glass. This was definitely not a drink that was fit to bring to a party. Why, Roy had even avoided making wines this strong back in Ishbal. But, but…

“You’re right,” Jean said, reaching to pour himself another and then another, “this is good.”

Edward watched with an expression something akin to horrified amazement as the older man proceeded to gulp down five consecutive flutes of a wine with the potency of undiluted vodka. In the back of the room, Roy also watched with his mouth in a twisted grin before wandering out of headquarters to study at the Central Library.

Soldiers lumped out of their workplace at early dawn the next morning, a crowd of happy drunks singing Christmas carols off-tune. Above the crowd, the Fullmetal Alchemist and the second lieutenant fought articulately over the correct way to drink from a neck of a certain orange bottle as they passed by Central’s famed library.

“No,” Havoc slurred loudly, tipping the bottle up a bit so that some of the wine sloshed out the corners of his companion’s mouth, “make love. That’s the spirit.”

A moment later, Edward’s fat-tongued voice was heard saying, “That doesn’t go in your mouth. I think I like the front better, thanks.”

The crowd tramped along, unaware that they had made the provider of their fun suddenly very uncomfortable.

That afternoon, when everyone was able to stumble in, Havoc could only wonder why the colonel looked so disturbed whenever Fullmetal or he mentioned anything about how wonderful the night before must have been and how they wished they could remember it.

Current Mood: pleasedpleased
Current Music: "10th Man Down" - Nightwish
Marikaitou_marina on December 13th, 2004 11:09 pm (UTC)

Merry Christmas indeed!
♞ lovely little liar ♞metallic_sweet on December 14th, 2004 03:42 pm (UTC)
And to all a good night!

ACacdragonmaster on December 13th, 2004 11:19 pm (UTC)
Oh man that was funny, especially the second one. And Ed and Havoc are just talking about the wine bottle, right? >_>

That reference to Kimbley was so great though, trying to picture him bursting into tears like that, oh my....
♞ lovely little liar ♞: Deadmetallic_sweet on December 14th, 2004 03:44 pm (UTC)
Yes, it was just the wine bottle, but Mr. Flame Alchemist has a perverted mind.

Kimberly can't a lunatic all the time. Even the worst serial killers have "good" days. ^^
patosanpatosan on December 14th, 2004 02:13 am (UTC)
I totally loved the second one XD
♞ lovely little liar ♞metallic_sweet on December 14th, 2004 03:47 pm (UTC)
I am glad that you liked it. ^^
CphT, bitches.ladymetaka on December 14th, 2004 02:16 am (UTC)
pervert hobbit fancier

XDDDDDDDDDD struck me as the funniest (and most ironic, depending who you ask) quote. Hurrah for random drunks! **toasts**
♞ lovely little liar ♞metallic_sweet on December 14th, 2004 03:49 pm (UTC)
The irony only struck me after I wrote a couple more paragraphs after that. The random drunks will take over Central.

*toasts back with Roy's "Late Harvest" genre*
swirling_chaos on December 14th, 2004 03:51 am (UTC)

"I think I like the front better."

XD! *dies* Those were hilarious.
♞ lovely little liar ♞metallic_sweet on December 14th, 2004 03:51 pm (UTC)
I'm glad you liked them. ^^
a fangirltreesock on December 14th, 2004 10:29 am (UTC)
prize for winning the internets:

Even though I don't have a sister IRL. ...i CAN imagine who the 'second person' would be. XD
Russia's greatest love machinerandom_prophet on December 14th, 2004 12:40 pm (UTC)

The placement of the swan heads reminds me of that one episode of Bobobobo.

♞ lovely little liar ♞: My Crack OTPmetallic_sweet on December 14th, 2004 03:52 pm (UTC)
I... die?

Thanks. Now I've forgotten all the information for my tests tomorrow. ^^;
Lorelei DiAngelokill_me_faster on December 14th, 2004 06:00 pm (UTC)
“Pervert hobbit fancier,” Edward snapped randomly.

OMG! Where the hell did you come up with that brilliant line?

I love you.