[The journal clicks on as it drops to the ground, recording a quiet curse and a dark screen. After a moment it lifts up, revealing a flash view of Edward in a tank top as he tilts his arm, prodding at the metal limb that is apparently not cooperating as well as it should.]
What the hell is wrong with this thing? It's not-
[And his words are quite
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Except for when one slams into the side of his head while passing by, and causing his head to spin around rapidly.]
--AGH!
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...OH GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT GUY'S HEAD]
Agh!!
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WHO DID THAT!? WHERE DID YOU GO!? [He could have sworn he heard someone agh.]
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Are you okay!?
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Robo-Ky turns it around to face Ed.] WHAT HAPPENED?
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Is that a robot.]
You... got hit. I think.
[IT TOTALLY WASN'T ME IGNORE THE MISSING ARM.]
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[YES, HE NARROWED HIS EYES.]
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It... was an accident. Sorry.
[He's pretty sure this is a robot.
Crap.]
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Headtilt. Except his head got a little unscrewed by all that spinning so it ends up leaning to one side.] WHAT DID YOU DO? [Because it hurt.]
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If he dies today, Winry, he's blaming you.
Okay, let's... try diplomacy. Because that's totally his best trait.]
...You don't have rockets in your arms, do you?
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--WHO TOLD YOU THAT!? [That's supposed to be a state secret or something!]
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YOU CALL THAT A GOOD ROCKET FIST?
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[Why is that stare giving him a REALLY BAD FEELING.]
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I'LL SHOW YOU HOW IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE DONE! [He's slowly raising his right arm...]
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Wait, wait, wait!! I don't need to see it!
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