As Alphonse descended from formation, he locked his body up to provide a buffer against the G forces.  However light, he disliked rapid descents, and this routine drop was not in the least any more forgiving than the drops he experienced on his way out of Nova Scotia.  Anything more, and his bowels might just fail on him.  Come to think of it, he flexed [i]after[/i] the descent, right?

And did the porridge have milk? 

Well, what's more important was that in case Iceland had a change in mind to switch to shitstorm-flak-it-all mode, his team would be far away enough to avoid something like flak by a few seconds in advance.

"I think it'd be a good idea for the rest of you guys to just pull ba-PPPPPPPBBBBBPBPBPBBFFFFFFFFT."

...

Did he mention he was lactose intolerant?

So in the silence of shame, the searchlights went up, and began to pan across the land.