"Ecstatic. Sleepy! Oh, hungry!"
"Right! Ok, try this."
"Um, you must've learned that from Colonel Bastard. You'd better not be flashing that at the nurses. Or at me, ever, ever again."
Jean poked his head into Al's private room, eyebrow raised. "Do I even want to know what's going on in here?"
"I'm practicing facial expressions!" Al chirped gleefully from his nest of pillows in the bed. "The doctors say I can leave once I hit eighty-five pounds, I have to get ready."
"Good news! But you're gonna have to practice with a mirror for a few hours, because the Chief here has work to do."
Ed grumbled mutinously, but Al just nodded. "Let's do one more, Brother, before you go." He scrunched up his face, still all eyes and jutting cheekbones.
Ed cocked his head consideringly. "Uh...constipated?"
"Anger! That was an angry face!"
"Oh, that makes a lot more sense, especially when the doctors have you on that liquid diet and all...hey, that's a way better angry face. Okay, enough, you've got angry down. Al...? YAAAH!"
Ed bolted; a moment later a bedpan collided with the back of his head.
Jean glanced down at him, then turned to Al. "Nice throw, I'm impressed."
"Thanks!" Al beamed, flexing a scrawny arm. "I've been lifting weights with the juice bottles from lunch."
"Doesn't anybody care that I could be CONCUSSED, here?!" Ed howled from the floor.
"No, not at all."
"That's a great vengeful sibling face."