FMA - Frank Archer - # 13.Mort smothered by a pillow
Title: A big boy
Author: petite_laitue
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist (1st anime)
Characters: Frank Archer
Disclaimer: Everything is Hiromu Arakawa, too bad for me and good for Archer
Rating: PG
Subjects 13. suffocated by a pillow
Word count: 1100 words
Frank Archer was a great Colonel. He had enlisted in the army as soon as he had the age and had difficulty climbing the corporate ladder over time. His complete incompetence in terms of alchemy had of course been a major obstacle in getting promotions, but through hard work, determination and coldness he had managed to compensate. According to him there was no doubt he was a great strategist and a top-notch fighter. Therefore he fully deserved the honors due his rank of Colonel and recently viewed with contempt all those lazy incompetents who were his colleagues. Roy Mustang in particular that was his rank at his impudence and his charming smile, not to mention that he spent too much time chasing girls instead of working. It annoyed him that much more arrogant Don Juan popular and respected him. But this change when he won the campaign Lior and that everyone would recognize how it, Frank Archer, was a great war hero.
In private, Frank Archer was a big boy. For many years he was doing everything alone without the help of his mother. And he was very proud to manage such a big boy. He chose his own clothes and managed to dress properly, obviously wearing a uniform he almost always greatly simplified the task but it was necessary to recognize its merit. In addition he was dining alone, cooking like a big boy very complicated dishes like pasta or rice, and sometimes even eggs. And he also took care of the household: he kept his house was dust, spent brushes, washing dishes ... In short he did all his chores himself as the great man he was. It was true that there was slightly forced, as he lived alone. Indeed, no woman had wanted to share his life and his mom had made it clear long ago that she counted on him to fend for himself as the great man he was. That does not bother him, quite the contrary. He never wanted to marry because he considered romantic relationships as a waste of time. He also knew that his mom was right when she said it would happen to her because an officer still living with his mother hooks would never be fulfilled. Frank Archer and lived alone in his big house and he was very happy with his life as a single boy.
Yet there were times when Frank Archer bitterly regretted not having his mom to help him when he knew little hassle. And one of those moments exactly repeated every three weeks: indeed Frank Archer hated making the bed. He hated this chore. In his eyes was even worse than drinking cold coffee, worse than being called a weakling Armstrong proudly displaying the splendid musculature Armstrong passed on from generation to generation, worse than being deprived of a war that could bring him fame, worse than seeing Mustang to congratulate the Generalissimo ... Brief Frank Archer to his bed was worse than anything.
But today was the very day the dreaded, the one where he had to change his sheets. He had tried to reduce this chore as much as possible but, being somewhat picky about the edges, he refused to sleep more than three weeks in the same sheets and finally had to resort to this horrible task. Therefore
It was at this time trying to correct her duvet in her quilt. Cursing and grunting, he tried to spread the quilt so it is evenly distributed inside the cover. Against all odds he gets wrapped a duvet cover at the center of which seemed to be half its share upside. Archer Frank uttered a cry of rage, tearing the fabric of the quilt that enveloped and then proceeded to properly extend the cover over the bed. Once that was done he grabbed the duvet and ventured inside the cover to properly position all these stupid pieces of fabric. After five minutes it manages to put two corners of the duvet in the two corresponding ends of the cover and a sigh of relief, he tried to get out of there. Without success. Indeed
Frank Archer soon realized he was lost in his duvet. Find out logically was not complicated but the little air available in this fabric envelope coupled with her state of excitement already well advanced provoked a panic among the Colonel, who began to wriggle frantically trying to find a outcome. Therefore it ends up entangled in the cover and fell off the bed, putting an end to its possibilities of escape. Her panic rose a notch when he realized he was trapped in her sheets, without the ability to go it alone. Shouting despair muffled by the layers of textiles that surrounded him, he tried to recover by resting on his bed and managed to grab a piece of cloth he pulled with all his might. This had resulted in the loss of half a dozen pillows that were placed on a corner of the mattress.
Frank Archer spent the next twenty minutes to suffocate in its entangled quilt under a mountain of pillows. And finally, lacking oxygen, he died in that position.
Three days later, a sergeant was sent to his home to find out why he had not submitted to HQ in recent days. When he discovered the body, the soldier called for reinforcements and an investigation was quickly conducted to discover the cause of death of Colonel Frank Archer. Once the autopsy had revealed the circumstances of his death, it was decided that Frank Archer was buried in secret. In fact the army was suffering at this time of questionable reputation and the generals all agreed on the fact that a man stupid enough to choke on her sheets did not deserve that military tributes it is rendered. King Bradley had the thought that sentence was more than justified: after all, even his son Selim knew how his bed like a big boy.
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