The Dojo Existential (camudekyu) wrote in fm_alchemist,
The Dojo Existential

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A drama of epic proportions.

I have fic. I bet you're happier than an Amish dude looking at barn-porn. That's right. Barns having sex.

Title: Grrrowl, Bunnysuits
Author: Me, the Woman Behind the Fatuity
Rating: Stupid
Spoilers: None. If someone finds one, tell me.
Word Count: 691
A/N: This is, hands down, the most pointless thing I've ever written.

Why, Roy wondered, did the most insistent door-to-door salesmen only come to his door on his days off, specifically just after three o’clock when he usually flopped onto his couch for an afternoon nap?

The loud knocking persisted after Roy closed his eyes and resolved to ignore it. He breathed a long sigh when his doorbell replaced the knocking. Then the intruder began to interchange them, knock twice, ring the doorbell, knock thrice, pound the doorbell.

Roy finally threw down the book that lay open on his chest and stood up.

“For the love of—what in God’s name do you want?” Roy barked as he entered the foyer.

“Open the door!” a muffled voice cried from outside followed by a very loud, solid thud that Roy immediately knew was a booted foot against the off-white panels of his door. Just then, a rosy face appeared in one of the tall, rectangular windows on the right side of his door. It promptly disappeared, but Roy could have sworn he saw… no, it couldn’t have been.

“Can I help you?” Roy snapped as he flung his door open and glared at the visitor. His resolve quickly slipped away at the sight of what was waiting for him on the stoop.

Clad in very small, white shorts, what appeared to be a man’s undershirt, and knee high, yellow galoshes, was Winry Rockbell. This perhaps would not have been so odd were it not beginning to snow; however, what was strange, regardless of the weather, were the homemade, white felt and cardboard bunny ears stapled to a headband atop the young woman’s head.

Roy stared at her for a moment, searching for the proper greeting. “Miss Rockbell,” Roy said.

She scowled at him. “Mr. Mustang.”

“Rather late for Halloween, don’t you think?”

“Look,” the girl said. “I lost a bet. Don’t tell anyone about this.”

Roy watched her blankly for a moment. “All right.” He could only imagine what else was entailed in the terms of this bet if it also included a coquettish bunny outfit and a glower.

Winry looked over her shoulder and snorted angrily. “All right,” she said, snapping her head back toward Roy. For a moment, she looked as though she was going to attack him, but then she put her hands akimbo and cocked her hips to the right. With her eyes rolled toward the awning, she began to sing flatly.

“I wanna be loved by you,
By you and no one else but you.
I wanna be loved by you alone.
Boo boo be doo boo.”

On the last boo she jutted her hips out to the left and shifted her glare to the dormant porch light. To Roy’s horror, she continued.

"I wanna be kissed by you,
By you and no one else but you.
I wanna be kissed by you alone.
Boo boo be doo boo."

On this boo she turned around, put her hands on her knees, and wiggled her butt at him, making the little cottony ball safety pinned to the back of her shorts sway.

Roy could hear someone guffawing from his azaleas. Leaning past the shivering girl on his porch, Roy watched as a well-bundled Alphonse Elric fell into the driveway, holding his sides and howling.

With an apprehensive expression, Roy began, “Well, that was… entertaining? Are there any other terms of this bet I should know about?”

The goosebumped bunny gave Roy a glare to rival his alchemic pyrotechny. “No,” she snarled. “We’re done.” Her closed fists held down by her thighs, Winry pivoted sharply and stormed off Roy’s porch. As she passed Alphonse, now slapping his gloved hand against the pavement and wiping away tears, Winry stooped, snatched up the collar of his coat, and pulled him to his feet. They then, Winry in the lead and Al in tow, trudged down the snowy sidewalk, around the corner, and out of sight. Alphonse’s laughter echoed back long after they were gone.

Roy stood on his porch for a moment, pondering what other aspects of young Alphonse Elric’s sense of humor were yet uncovered. He then decided he didn’t want to know.

If I could draw, I would totally illustrate this.
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