(hides face) I have absolutely no excuse for this…it's just pure, unadulterated crack…that I wrote while really hyper on caffiene...

But, I guess this is a good thing...it's a much different tone then the ones I've been writing...not as angsty...hope you like it!

INFLU-ED-ZA

It was a normal day at Eastern Command. Everyone was going about their usual activities: Master Sergeant Kain Fuery sat at his radio transmitter, copying down the codes and reports coming in; Warrant Officer Vato Falman was cramming more ridiculous amounts of information into his already jam-packed brain; Second Lieutenant Heymans Breda was making a fuss over the fact that there was a dog in the office; Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc was once again going against the First Lieutenant's wishes and smoking in the office for the fifteenth time this hour; First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye was busy polishing her trusty handgun; Black Hayate, the resident dog of Eastern Command, was resting obediently at his master's feet, staring at Breda, and all-in-all being a dog; and finally, taking all these facts into account behind his huge oaken desk, was Colonel Roy Mustang himself. He sat idly, staring out his window while listening to the hubbub of Breda and Hawkeye disagreeing about whether the dog could stay or not—"Please, First Lieutenant, I'm begging you!!", "I said no, Breda."—and basically do whatever he could to avoid his paperwork.

Mustang sighed and leaned back in his large, plush leather chair, interlocking his fingers and striking a contemplative pose. Eventually, Breda's cries were silenced by a gunshot, and thusly did quiet settle over the office. Ah, quiet. He loved quiet. He could use the time to fantasize about the day he became Fuhrer. First thing he'd do would be to pass the Miniskirt Bill. Then, he'd put in place the Paperwork Abolishment Act. And finally…he'd establish a new national holiday in which the entire country would be required to mock a particularly height challenged alchemist.

Yes, he mused. That would be a good day.

But, right now, he could only be satisfied with the dreams and the quiet.

WHAM!!

"ALRIGHT, YOU LILY-WHITE-FACED-COLONEL-WITH-NO-GODDAMN-RESPECT-FOR-THE-GOOD-HARD-WORKING-PEOPLE-WHO-SPEND-DAY-IN-AND-DAY-OUT-KISSING-YOUR-LILY-WHITE-BEHIND-FOR-NO-GOOD-REASON-OTHER-THAN-TO-PLEASE-YOU-YOU-FLIPPIN'-BASTARD-WHO-THINKS-HE'S-TOO-GOOD-TO-ACTUALLY-GET-DOWN-OFF-HIS-HIGH-HORSE-ONCE-IN-AWHILE-AND-ACTUALLY-COMPLIMENT-A-TIRED-WORN-OUT-GUY-WHO'S-SPENT-THE-LAST-TWO-WEEKS-IN-A-GODDAMN-BACKWARDS-NO-GOOD-HOOSIER-TOWN-LOOKING-FOR-SOMETHING-THAT-HE'S-BEEN-SPENDING-THE-LAST-FOUR-YEARS-OF-HIS-GODDAMN-LIFE-LOOKING-FOR-AND-THAT-IS-VERY-DAMN-IMPORTANT-TO-HIM-AND-HIS-BROTHER-BUT-WHO-IS-FLIPPIN'-EXPECTED-TO-COME-HERE-TO-SEE-YOUR-BASTARD-FACE-AT-THE-DROP-OF-A-GODDAMN-HAT-WITH-NO-EXPLANATION-WHAT-SO-EVER-BECAUSE-YOU-DON'T-HAVE-THE-GODDAMN-DECENCY-TO-TELL-A-GUY-YOU-GODDAMN-BASTARD, THIS HAD BETTER BE REALLY DAMN IMPORTANT, BECAUSE IF IT ISN'T, I SWEAR TO YOU I WILL MURDER YOU RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!"

Well, so much for the quiet.

With an inaudible sigh, Roy took a moment to compose himself, planting his smirk firmly on to his face for no better reason than to further irritate his already bellicose subordinate (because it was fun, that's why), and he turned his chair around to face the fuming blonde.

"Ah, Fullmetal. Good to see you, too," he said, tone conversationally gloating—a fact which was not at all lost on the teenager before him. With his eyes ablaze in fury and a near volcano of rage veritably roiling off his diminutive and slender frame, the Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric glared with the most forceful glare he'd ever bestowed upon anyone in his 15 year life, willing with every cell in his tired, weather-beaten, dirt covered and rain-soaked body for the Colonel to drop dead right at that very moment.

"What the hell do you want??" he spat out, in positively no mood to play any games.

"Watch your mouth, Fullmetal. I can have you penalized for speaking that way to a superior officer, you know."

Edward growled and turned his eyes furiously to the ceiling, trying very, very hard—and at that moment, standing before that desk, staring into the face of that bastard, it was very hard!—to reign in his wildly flaring temper.

"Colonel, please, please, please get to the point. I'm very tired, I've spent two fruitless days in a backwater hellhole trapped in a flimsy tent in a muddy, water-filled ditch, I feel so disgusting that I can barely stand myself and would really like to take a shower, I have a supersized headache that makes my head feel like it will explode in any minute, and I really, really have no desire at this precise moment to engage in any verbal sparring with you. I'm very, very sorry that my tone displeases you, but right now I really hate you."

Roy smirked.

"Well, Fullmetal, I appreciate your candidness and I accept your apology, and as such, I shall reward you with a straightforward answer. But don't get used to it, because it will only happen this one and only time!"

Edward sighed.

"Thank you," he said, and he actually meant it on some level. He sat down in one of the two chairs before the desk, Alphonse taking the other to his brother's left.

Roy leaned forward and clasped his hands once more, elbows resting on the desk top.

"Well, Fullmetal, as you obviously know—if your clothing and general demeanor are any indication—it is fast approaching the fall season."

"Uh-huh."

"During this time of the year, illnesses are prone to fell many a careless soldier, such as pneumonia, bronchitis, the common cold, and influenza."

"Uh-huh."

"Well, in order to fight against the most common and most easily prevented of these illnesses—that being influenza—the medical branches of the military has ordered that all military personnel should receive proper immunization."

"Uh-huh."

"Thusly, they have developed the proper procedure for doling out these state wide vaccinations and have instructed the various groups on how to follow them."

"Uh-huh."

Here, Roy paused to adjust the collar of his military jacket, shooting Alphonse a furtive glance before clearing his throat. The message was received loud and clear, and Alphonse readied himself. Thinking that this pause was merely to build up drama, Edward rolled his eyes and huffed.

"And that procedure is…?" he urged.

"An injection," Roy replied in a casual tone.

Outside the office, Havoc, Breda, Falman, Fuery, and Hawkeye all looked up in surprise when the scream of an utterly terrified soul sounded behind the heavy wooden doors. A split second later, Edward came flying out of Mustang's office as if he were being chased by an axe murderer, arms flailing wildly and feet propelling him forward with all speed.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" he shrieked. "YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!!!!"

He darted past the five in a blur of red colored motion, vanishing into the hallway. Only a second later, Alphonse came running past the five, hot on his brother's trail.

"Brother!!!!" he yelled. "Quit being a baby and get back here!!!"

He vanished through the door. For a moment, no one moved until, as one, they all shifted over to Roy's door.

"Colonel?" Hawkeye inquired. Roy was looking at his nails.

"Fullmetal just found out about the flu shots," he said as if it mattered little to him.

"Oh," they all answered. They took a moment to look at one another before looking back at him again.

"Would you like us to retrieve him, sir?" Havoc asked.

"That would be nice, Havoc, thank you."

With that, Havoc, Breda, and Falman all ran out of the room with the intent to pursue the red coated alchemist until they captured him. Fuery, meanwhile, ran to the transmitter to send out the signal to all forces to be on the lookout for the young, hysterical blonde on the loose. Hawkeye looked at Roy.

"Should I go, too, sir?"

"No, First Lieutenant…I think they can handle it."

"Yes, sir."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Author's Note: The following scene should be read with the "Pink Panther" theme playing in the background.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Carefully—oh so carefully!—Edward peered through the branches of a thickly foliaged bush at the gathered multitudes covering the courtyards of Eastern Command. He had about five close calls, and had had to sacrifice his red coat in order to throw everyone off his trail because there was no way, absolutely no possible way, that he was going within fifty feet of the clinic. And he wasn't going to get any damned shot! No way, no how! It just wasn't going to happen. But, for now, he had to hope that his skills at hiding were better than his pursuers' skills at seeking. So far he'd been very lucky, but he had a feeling that if he didn't think of something quick, his luck would run out. He studied his surroundings, weighing the odds. To his immediate left was a doorway that would take him back inside the building. That was feasible. Oh wait…scratch that. Two men walked out of the door, forcing Edward further into the bushes. He looked right. There stood a tall tree still dense with leaves. A thick branch that looked like it could easily support his weight extended from the base of the tree towards a window on the second floor of the building. Aha. That would work just fine. Edward grinned. Staying as low to the ground as possible, he slithered his way across the grass towards the tree, shimming up it quicker than a cat. He paused in the cover for a moment, watching the men milling about.

"Where is he?"

"Did you find him?"

"I think he might have gone this way!"

"Come on! We have to find him!"

"Go! Go!"

"Here, you look this way, and I'll look that way."

"Jesus! What does this kid think he is?? A freakin' ninja??"

"We should get him to join the Special Ninja Forces!"

That gave Edward pause.

We have Special Ninja Forces? he wondered to himself before starting out onto the tree branch. He was making good progress until his left foot slipped suddenly, knocking several twigs and leaves onto the ground to land beside none other than Heymans Breda.

"Shit!!" he hissed so low he couldn't even hear it. He squashed himself against the branch and froze, not even daring to breathe.

Breda looked towards the sound out of the corner of his eyes. His gaze traveled upward in a very subtle way until he spotted the barely perceptible flash of gold amidst the darkness of the branches. Up in the tree, Edward shut his eyes.

Please don't see, please don't see, please don't see! he chanted to himself over and over. Down below, Breda smirked.

"Falman!" he called. Edward almost flinched but forced himself to lie still as Falman scurried over to stand beside the stout man.

"Yes, sir?"

"Come on. Let's go look over here."

Breda dragged the narrow eyed man away from the tree. Edward lay still for a moment in surprise, blinking. Did they miss him? Really? He cautiously detached himself from the tree branch and began to scoot forward again. Unbeknownst to him, Breda, Falman, and now Havoc were watching him from the same bushes he'd been hiding in only a few minutes ago.

"He's heading for the window," Havoc pointed out, speaking very, very softly.

"He'll probably get into that office and head for the front door, and from there he'll escape," Falman speculated, his sharp memory recalling the entire layout of Eastern Command.

"Not if we get there first," Breda interjected, rising. "Let's go."

Falman was positively correct in his ideas, because that's exactly what Edward was planning as soon as he slid quietly into the window of the second floor office. He closed the window without a sound, and he dropped into a low crouch, creeping forward very stealthily to the door. Once there, he very, very slowly opened the door and, exuding caution, he slid his head out into the hallway to peer around. With no one in sight, he darted across the hall as fast as he could, breaking through the door into the emergency stairwell. He raced down the first two flights of steps, but stopped and proceeded as silently as he was capable down the last flight onto the ground floor. He peeked through the glass window on the emergency door to be sure that no one was standing directly in front of the door before he opened it wide enough to stick his head out and glance down the hallway both ways. Satisfied that there was no one there, he somersaulted across the hall and into the concealing shadows, where he blended in so neatly, that only the trained eye could have told he was there. And everyone wondered why he wore black clothes, Edward mused with an egotistical smirk. Perhaps he would look into this fabled Special Ninja Force after all. He crept down the hallway, keeping tight to the shadows, and only paused when he was within a few feet of the front door.

Here, the shadows were somewhat sparse, so he crouched in the thickest gathering of them and looked around, his keen golden eyes searching for any sign of anyone, his ears trained to pick up any slightly out-of-place noise. Hearing nothing, he prepared himself to make a quick dash to the front door. Only about twenty running steps and he was home free. Those idiots seriously thought that they could catch him, the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric, child prodigy?? This would show them that he wouldn't listen to their psychopathic, sadistic rules, and there was certainly no way he would ever let them give him a shot! A wicked grin on his face, his darted forward.

Of course, it is always the moment that someone gets cocky that Karma decides it would be the best time to give them a good kick in the pants. Edward had clearly underestimated his pursuers, for the moment he had made his tenth running step was the moment that Havoc, Breda, Falman, and Alphonse dropped down on him from their precarious perches high on the wall. He cried out as he went down under their combined weight, and all chaos broke loose.

"Quick!! Grab his arms before he transmutes something!!"

"GET OFF ME, YOU BASTARDS!!"

"Brother, stop it!!"

"Havoc, watch out!!"

"Huh…? OWW!!! HEY!! QUIT BITING ME, YOU BRAT!!"
"Falman, you grab his right leg!! I've got his left!!"

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant Breda!!"

"NOOOOOOOO!!! PUT ME DOWN!!! I'M NOT GOING TO ANY DAMN CLINIC!!! BASTARDS!!!"

"It's for your own good, Brother!"

"DON'T EVEN START WITH ME, AL!!! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY YOUR OWN BROTHER???"

"GAH!! Havoc!! Don't let go!!"

"No, Brother, don't do—!!"

CLAP!

SIZZLE!!

BONK!!

"YIPE!!"

"I told you not to do that, Brother!!"

"Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"I think you might have hit him too hard, Al…"

"You think so, Havoc?"

"Maybe…"

"Who cares?? Way to go, Alphonse!! Okay, guys, grab him while he's still stunned!!"

"Yes, sir, Lieutenant Breda!!!"

When each of the four had finally grabbed a separate limb of the still swirly-eyed Edward, they started forward with all speed, heading directly for the clinic. Edward recovered halfway there, in order to protest once more in a vehement manner, but it was all in vain. Hoisted as he was off the floor with his arms and legs stretched out to either side, he was completely helpless and at his captors' mercy. That didn't stop him from driving them all crazy with his foul stream of profanity, however. The three men just gritted their teeth and continued (and Alphonse just ignored his brother like he always did), eventually making to the clinic. The first person they ran into was Colonel Mustang, who had been patiently waiting in the clinic for the verdict. He took one look at the squirming, fuming teen and then smiled up at his men.

"Good job," he said, moving aside so that they could put Edward down on the table. Once they had placed him there, he started to fight them like a wild demon again, and he almost got away because the Havoc, Breda, and Falman found themselves unable to hold him and they were afraid of hurting him. Alphonse, however, had no such qualms, and within seconds he had trapped his brother's automail arm behind his back and was squashing Edward underneath his armor body, relaxing upon him further and further until Edward could barely breathe and finally stopped wriggling around.

"Get…off!!!" he wheezed harshly.

"Are you going to behave?" Alphonse asked him.

"Can't…breathe…rib cage…collapsing…"

Alphonse lifted himself a bit and Edward gratefully sucked in some oxygen before he growled and balled his free left hand into a fist.

"I'm not getting any damn shots!!" he protested.

"Brother, stop being such a baby!!"

"Shut up!! I'm not getting it, and that's final!! Now get off me!!"

"It's for your health, Brother! It'll prevent the flu!"

"I don't need it!! I don't get sick!!"

"Shut up, Brother! You're getting the shot!!"

"No I'm not!!"

"Yes you are!!"

"No I'm not!!"

"Yes you are!!"

Before the fight could escalate, Mustang leaned down to smirk right into Edward's eyes.

"Oh, Alphonse, you know that Fullmetal's just scared he'll get sucked up into the needle, since he's so tiny and all…"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO TINY THAT HE CAN RIDE A FLEA LIKE A HORSE??"

Mustang was about to taunt the young alchemist again, but the doctor walked in at that point, and he stepped back. The bespectacled man turned around from the table and started in surprise at the sight of a small, very irate blonde teenager trapped belly down on the table with a large suit of armor squishing him. He looked sideways at the Colonel, who merely shrugged, and the man shook his head. Life was never boring around here. He picked up the chart and flipped through it.

"So, you must be Edward Elric. We've heard a lot about you."

"Well isn't that just peachy keen," Edward said, the sarcasm in his voice practically oozing from every pore. The man didn't seem to notice it, as he just nodded and set the chart down, pulling on a pair of latex gloves and turning to the readied needle on the tray.

"Alright, then, let's get this over with, shall we??"

Edward took one look at the needle the man was holding, and his eyes widened in sheer and absolute terror. He shut his eyes tightly and began to frantically kick his feet, as if he could somehow swim away from his brother's hold.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" he shouted. "I WON'T!! I WON'T DO IT!! LEMME GO!!"

"Edward, knock it off!!" Alphonse said, grabbing Edward's left wrist and pinning it to the table. "You're going to be fine!!"

But Edward wouldn't listen, just continued to wriggle and kick hysterically.

"LEMMEGOLEMMEGOLEMMEGOLEMMEGOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

"Jesus," Havoc said. "He hasn't even touched you yet, and you're already hollering like a banshee!!"

Edward snapped a glare onto the man.

"I don't need any shots!!"

The teen started his frenzied struggles again.

"For crying out loud, Brother!" Alphonse protested, easily holding his excitable brother in place. "You're fifteen years old!!"

While all of this was going on, the doctor stood blinking at Edward in shock. He looked at the needle in his hand, looked at the bucking, roundly swearing Edward, and looked back at his needle, wondering if it was really worth all of this. Finally, Mustang had enough.

"Fullmetal! If you do not calm down and be a man about this, we will simply have to treat you like a child!!"

Edward growled at the man, his tawny yellow eyes livid. Mustang smirked and leaned in close to him.

"And do you know where children get their shots?" he asked. When Edward didn't answer, he smiled wickedly.

"They get them in their rear ends, with a needle that is this long."

He held his hands out before him with about a foot of space between them. Edward paled considerably at that, his eyes widening in horror. He whimpered.

"So, what's it going to be, Fullmetal? One way or another, you're getting your shot."

Edward gulped, looked over at the doctor, and then buried his face in cushion of the table. He could hear Mustang give the man the okay, and heard the footsteps starting ominously for him.

"Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow…" he chanted over and over.

"It's okay," the doctor told him, trying to keep his voice gentle, as if he were trying to coax a wild animal over to him. "It's just going to be a little poke. Nothing major."

Edward whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. The doctor grabbed his arm, and Edward felt the needle's tip brush against his skin.

"GAH!!" he panicked, jerking spasmodically. The doctor leaped back in surprise, and looked helplessly at Mustang. The Colonel sighed.

"Doctor, just stick him and be done with it!"

"I don't want to traumatize him!"

"It's a little late for that! Just do it!"

"But I—!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, give me the damn thing!"

"Colonel, you can't—!!"

"The hell I can't!! Give it!!"

Mustang managed to get the needle away from the doctor, and he grabbed Edward's arm tightly.

"HEY!!" Ed protested. Before he could continue, Mustang jabbed the needle into his arm without remorse. Edward took one looked at that silver syringe sticking out of his arm and paled. Mustang injected the fluid and then yanked the needle back out.

"Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked.

But Edward didn't hear him. He'd already fainted.

"Wow!" the doctor said, flipping another page in the charts. "He's really behind on a lot of his shots!!"

Mustang looked at the needle in his hand, looked at his men, looked at the unconscious Edward, and finally came back around to the needle in his hand.

He grinned evilly.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"This is all your fault."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is!!"

"You know, Brother, if you just would have gotten your shots like you were supposed to, this whole thing could have been avoided."

"Shut up!! My arm looks like a blinkin' sausage, and it's going to be like this for a whole week!!"

"So?"

"I'm blaming it all on you!!!"

"Alright, Brother…if that's really what you want to do."

"It is!!"

"Okay. Then you go right ahead and do it."

"Thank you. I will."

"Because that's what the mature people do."

"SHUT UP!!"

END

Ladies and Gentleman…that's a wrap…

Did you like the world's longest insult? ("Alright you lily-white-faced-colonel-…") Yes, that is all hyphenated on purpose. Believe it or not, he said it all in one breath!!

Please review!!