Aztec Goddess: I still don't own Full Metal Alchemist. Like my other story, you might just learn something about the world here. And . . . I dunno what else to write here, so I'm gonna start the fic now.

School: It's Good For You

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain poured out of the heavens as if its gates were ripped open by hands of thunder and lightning. . . . But who cares? The next morning was bright and sunny. And that was the day Hughes, who is supposedly dead, waltzed into Mustang's office.

"Hello, my old friend! Did you miss me?" Hughes chimed.

"Holy crap!" Roy screamed. He dived under his desk and muttered frantically: "It's a ghost! Oh, dear God! I'm like Ebenezer Scrooge! Man, who would name their kid that?"

"Ghost? What would make you think that?"

"You're dead!"

Hughes became as confused as a monkey tied to a pogo stick. He scratched his head, fixed his glasses, noticed his fly was down (He was busy with the missus since he's been gone for a while.), so he zipped up his pants, then asked Roy, "Since when was I dead?"

"You were shot dead by some skimpy guy disguised as your wife! Jeez, how could you forget something like that!" It was a little uncomfortable under the desk, so Roy crawled out. He calmed down, then sat on his chair. "So, how was it like being dead?"

"I'm telling you, I never died!"

"Then who the hell did we burry under you name?"

Suddenly, Hughes understood the entire situation. "Oh, I understand now! It's quite simple: Another me from a parallel universe somehow found his way here. He's the one that died, not me!"

"So where were you the entire time?"

"High school! I'm the first in Central to ever get a diploma! Now I'm gonna get paid twice as much as you!" Hughes pulled out his diploma, looked toward the camera, and stated: "School: it's good for you!" He smiled, his teeth sparkled, and a sign that said DON'T DO DRUGS flashed over his head.

"Okay . . . But why didn't you tell anyone you were in high school! Do you know how many people watching this show you pissed off!"

"Sorry, but it's a little embarrassing for a man my age to say he's going to high school."

"Oh, I see your point . . ."

Suddenly, Hawkeye busted into the room. "Sir! I've got terrible news!" Then she noticed Hughes, and shrieked. "Oh, dear God! Hughes came back from the grave for the two bucks I owe him!" She started searching through her pockets, but then Hughes explained to her:

"I'm not dead, I never died, and you also owe me a rubber band!"

"Hughes, you can get rubber bands anywhere," Roy said.

"I know, but the ones you find on the floor by accident are special, y'know? You can't just go looking for a rubber band! Fate must draw you to it! That's the only way you can grow fond of it . . . until it hits you in the eye."

"I'll pay you back later, Hughes," Hawkeye said. "Anyway, let me start over. Sir, I've got terrible news."

"That doesn't have the same effect as last time," Roy mused. "Hawkeye, I need you to walk back outside, and bust in here dramatically again."

"I'm not doing that. The news is urgent, if you haven't notice."

"Then why is it taking you so long to say it?"

Hawkeye sighed heavily. "It's . . . traumatic news. The state has issued a new law: Any working man or woman without a high school diploma by the end of next year will be kicked out of the country. It's part of the new No Stoopid Peoples Act."

As Hawkeye was talking, Roy had decided to brew his morning coffee. He took a sip, then spit it out when she finished talking. "What! Why haven't I heard about any of this before!"

"It was top secret to make us all look stupid." Hawkeye looked around suspiciously. "Someone that we may or may not know is behind this!"

"Brilliant deduction!" Hughes declared. "But since this doesn't affect me, I'm just gonna say hi to everyone else then go on with my daily life! Oh, and by the way, readers, I have nothing to do with the new law!" So Hughes exited the room and did what he said he was going to do.

"So, do you know when we have to start high school?" Roy asked Hawkeye.


"Does everyone know already?"

"How should I know? I'm considered stupid now!"

"Oh, okay then. We should start making calls now."

Hawkeye exited and Roy called Edward Elric.

"Hello?" Ed answered.

"Full Metal, I have a new mission for you: Get ready for high school tomorrow."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"I don't feel like getting into details right now, so just do what I say, or else you'll get fired."


"There'll be time for questions tomorrow! The Maury Show is almost on! And . . . I'll pray to God every night that you don't get raped in Guatemala!"

"WHA – Where the hell did that come from!"

"Oh, sorry. Wrong script. What I meant to say was: Today's the episode where you have to guess which five out of ten women were born men! Gotta go! See you tomorrow!" Roy hung up.

Ed stared at his phone as confused as a girl falling off a swing. "Wait a minute! The Maury Show doesn't exist in our time!"

Aztec Goddess: I don't own The Maury Show either. Anyway, R&R, peoples!