Authoress' Note: The Incarnation Pokémon, my co-conspirator, contributed to this…what's a word for "travesty" that starts with "co" again? Oh, forget it.

FMA is not mine. It belongs to a talking cow.

"Good morning. Scieszka here. It's a beautiful day in the new Democratic Republic of Amestris, especially in Central City. Due to the Parliament's new agenda, all military personnel have been recommissioned. This does not bode well, however, for someone's not too happy…"

---

"AAAAAAAH!"

Sergeant Major Kain Fury blinked, squinted his eyes, and screamed again.

Sergeant Kain Fury: you are hereby reassigned to the Central City recruiting station and the position of drill instructor effective as of…

Fury didn't bother to finish—he threw the paper away.

"How could they do this? And—I'm a sergeant MAJOR, not a sergeant!" Getting up, Fury resolved, "That's right. They can't. And I'm going to see Colonel—whoops, that's now Commander—Mustang straightaway to demand an immediate promotion."

Fury reached a hand for the door and was immediately blown back by the force of it opening.

He saw a pink sparkly.

Ye gods, no…

In stepped Lieutenant Colonel Alex Louis Armstrong (promoted for "valiant action and heroic duty under fire").

"You're late for your first day at your new job, Sergeant! Better get going!"

"But I'm not a—" Fury began to protest, when Armstrong lifted him unceremoniously under one arm and carried him off.

---

"Um…hello, I'm Fury. I'm your new drill sergeant."

Fury looked at the scowling faces before him, and shuddered.

"Now…all of you do 20 push-ups."

None of the men obeyed.

"Um, I have authority here, and—"

"What a wuss!" a brawny recruit yelled out.

"Our sergeant's a pussy!"

"Uh, settle down, men, and please do—"

"Get 'im!"

---

Fury woke up. He recognized where he was: the hospital wing.

"So they beat you up."

"Huh?" Fury started. He put on his glasses and realized he was staring at formerly-1st-Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. "Yes, Captain Hawkeye…they did, but the nurse said there's no serious damage, and I can…I have to…go back as soon as possible." Fury still nursed the bruise under his eye. "At least my glasses didn't get broken, huh?"

"Uh…yeah…" Riza Hawkeye stared at Fury. "So now, let's go back there and give your men a little talking-to, huh?"

"Are you sure about this?" Fury asked tremulously as Riza took his arm and led him out.

"Arf!" Black Hayate yipped.

---

"All right, what happened here?" Riza demanded sternly.

The men were silent. They probably hadn't expected this from A Mere Woman, given their most recent experience with a drill sergeant.

Fury looked at his clipboard. "Now, first, do the obstacle course while Captain Hawkeye and I have a chat…"

He looked at the scowling men. "Please?"

"Please!" Riza stared at Fury in disgust.

"Pretty please?"

Riza sighed, and clapped her hands. "Everybody! Do the obstacle course!" Once again, the men were unresponsive. Some were smoking, and others had begin a card game.

Riza fired her gun in the air. "NOW!"

That got the men's attention, and they scrambled to follow orders.

Riza turned back to Fury. "I…see your point. We'll talk to Mustang as soon as I get this over with." She turned back to the men as a few finishing.

"Now," she said as she turned her pseudo-angelic smile upon Fury, "who were the ones who beat you up?"

"Him, him, and him," Fury said, pointing to the men as they finished.

"You three! Come here!"

One of the three summoned suddenly noticed Black Hayate, who had been sniffing around in the grass. "Hey, it's a stupid mutt! Git, you stupid—"

BANG!

A smoking hole had formed in the ground, only inches away from the man's foot.

"100 push-ups!" Riza commanded, Black Hayate having scrambled behind her for safety. "And 50 each for you two!"

The men obeyed, their brain cells having abandoned any thought of doing otherwise.

"DIIIS-MIIISSED!" Riza called out after they finished. The men scarpered.

"Let's go see the Commander."

---

Roy Mustang, Supreme Commander of the Forces of Amestris, was sitting at a desk covered with paperwork, and feeling none too happy about it.

How could he have known when he had signed on to the job? Of course, he was the logical choice, having overthrown the Fuhrer (whom by now everyone knew as corrupt) but he had never imagined so much…paperwork.

"Hello, Commander!" came a singsong voice from behind the door.

Oh, no. More paperwork.

To his surprise, Sergeant Major Fury was the one who rushed into the room. "You've gotta promote me!"

Riza stepped in behind him and closed the door. "With all due respect, Commander, I believe that Sergeant Major Fury is unfit for duty as drill sergeant."

"What exactly happened?" Roy asked, still somewhat in a daze.

"They made a mistake on the roster," Fury explained. "Somehow I was listed as sergeant instead of sergeant major and now I'm a drill sergeant and the men are really mean!"

"Drill sergeant, eh?" Roy asked playfully. "Well…you could use a little toughening up, you know!"

"But—"

"And who better to toughen him up than you, Colonel?" Riza interjected. "I'm sure you could do it, seeing as how you're so tough yourself." She turned to leave, then, as if as an afterthought, dumped a huge pile of paperwork on his desk and headed out.

Roy stared, muscles twitching, at the pile.

"Uh…Commander? Could you really toughen me up?"

"Sure!" Roy exclaimed, ego kicking in. "Repeat after me: Do it because I say so, you lowlife dogs!"

"Do it because I say so…you lowlife dogs."

It just doesn't sound right, coming from his mouth, Roy thought. "Can you at least use a gun?"

"Well, we learned in basic training, of course, but beyond that, I carried a sidearm, but never really…used it," Fury admitted. "You see…I mostly worked in intelligence, sir. You know, reports, filing documents, things like that."

"You…did reports?" Roy perked up at that.

"Yes?"

"Well, to toughen you up, first I want you to do all this paperwork for me!"

"You're sure this will toughen me up!"

"Absolutely!" Roy asserted, trying to hide the guilty grin on his face.

---

One hour later…

"I'm done, Commander."

"You-you ARE?" Roy stared at Fury's all-too-honest expression.

"Commander! Urgent paperwork!" Riza rushed in. "We just got this, it has to be done by—" She stared blankly at the neat piles of paper in Roy's "Out" box. "Commander?"

"See, I did my paperwork!"

Riza, still balancing a giant stack of papers on one arm, picked up the first form and examined it carefully. "Then why is this not your handwriting?"

"It…it's not?" Roy asked sheepishly.

"Roy Mustang, I read all of your sloppily done reports, and I recognize your handwriting by now. Was this…?" She cast a glance at Fury.

"Yes, Captain Hawkeye…" Fury said in a small voice.

Strangely enough, Riza smiled. "Well, then, Commander, if Fury here could do in, oh, one hour or so what you take about five to accomplish…"

It's true…Mustang thought. But then there's the time I take daydreaming, looking out the window, rearranging my flowers…

"Then it seems that you have a bit of toughening up to do, Commander!" Riza exclaimed with delight, taking another pile of papers seemingly from out of nowhere and plunking it all down on Roy's desk. "You can start with this…it should be done in about…" She checked the wall clock above Roy's head. "…two and a half hours."

Riza picked up Fury's finished work, and was about to abandon Roy to his paperwork and Fury to the whims of fate when a pink sparkly caught her eye.

"Why, good day, Commander! Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong reporting for duty!"

"Since when did I ask to see you, Armstrong?" Roy asked wearily.

Armstrong ignored him and focused on Fury. "Drill Sergeant! You're wanted for afternoon drilling at the basic training camp!"

"Uh…"

Riza interjected, "Unfortunately, Sergeant Fury will not be available for training today. He is currently undergoing a training regimen of his own to toughen up." She could see the sparklies in Armstrong's eyes. "But it really shouldn't concern you, sir—"

"Using the secret technique passed down in the Armstrong family for generations, I will toughen you up!" Armstrong shouted, and carried a panic-stricken Fury out the door.

---

"Like this!" Armstrong flexed his biceps.

Fury tried, but he didn't have any biceps to speak of. That didn't stop Armstrong's determination, however.

"You just have to—"

Fury whimpered. He heard a cracking noise.

Oh boy. The hospital again.

---

"Commander?"

Roy screamed loudly, awakened from his (miniskirt-related, no doubt) reverie, and snapped his fingers. A great fireball consumed all of his unfinished paperwork.

"Uh-oh." He hastily collected random sheets and tossed them into the "Out" box as Riza stepped in.

"With all due respect, Commander…I don’t think Fury's up to the job. Perhaps you could just reassign him?"

"Nonsense! The placement of sergeants is below the duties of Supreme Commander of Amestris!"

"In that case, I'll just take your no-doubt beautifully-filled-out documents for sorting and filing." Riza hefted the pile off Roy's desk. "After all, the foreign dignitaries will be arriving in twenty minutes or so for a very important meeting with Parliament."

Dignitaries?

"Wait—I—not—" Roy stammered as Riza stepped out of the office.

---

Seven o'clock.

Finally. Time to get out of here.

Supreme Commander of the Forces of Amestris Roy Mustang slumped into his desk. He wearily gathered his few possessions and stuffed them into a briefcase. Another day of paperwork tomorrow.

Roy was greeted with a knock on the door and a cheerful "Hello".

"Riza? What is it?"

"We were just coming in to send you off, Colonel Mustang." Roy's entire staff filed into the room with a chorus of overlapping goodbyes.

Fury had his arm in a sling. Roy looked at him and whistled. "Well, well, working hard, aren’t we—Wait a minute! Colonel Mustang? But—"

"Due to the fact that all of us," Riza said, motioning to the staff, "were forced to hurriedly recopy and fill out all of your paperwork before the dignitaries arrived, a general consensus was arrived in the Parliament to relieve you of your command. Effective now." She dropped a single sheet of paper on Roy's desk.

"But—then who's Supreme Commander now?" Roy stammered.

"Since Amestris is moving towards a foreign policy of peace, there will be no Supreme Commander. Peacetime military ops fall under the jurisdiction of generals, in cooperation with the civilian government."

"Couldn't you have at least made me a general!" Roy whined.

"Even so, the paperwork would be too much for you, Colonel. As a matter of fact," Riza said, mysteriously producing a veritable ton of documents, "I've got to run this stack over to Hakuro right now. He's working overtime today."

Roy's jaw dropped.

Riza motioned with her free hand to the paper on Roy's desk. "But if you sign that paper, Colonel…it will be the last piece of paperwork you'll have to do today."

Roy picked it up and looked at it. "Fury's promotion to sergeant major?"

Fury nodded, cradling his broken arm. Roy scrambled for a pen and scribbed his initials. He had never signed a piece of paperwork with such alacrity.

"So peace was returned to Amestris. Staff Sergeant Denny Bloch took over as drill sergeant, and needless to say, he did a much better job. With Lieutenant Maria Ross's supervision, of course. Roy was forever the butt of jokes in his office for being the only officer to survive the war without a promotion. And the Grand Army of the Nation of Amestris was eventually disbanded, and formed into reserves instead, for homeland security. Once again, I'm Scieszka, and thank you for listening to KFMA."