-The Evils of the Drink- by Tro - [email protected] One Fine Evening... Cackling like a banshee, Pirate Captain Shanks tossed back another mug of beer. To one side, an equally plastered Yasopp leaned forward, curled over a bottle of whisky while perched on a precariously tilted bar stool. At his right, as always, sat the unflappable Ben Beckman. Ben, on the other hand, was surprisingly sober despite his friends being way beyond three sheets to the wind. "Saa~ay, Shanks," Yasopp slurred suddenly. The red-haired captain turned to blurrily regard him curiously, "What do we do if we can't make it back to the ship? Hypothetically speaking, of course..." Brows furrowing in thought, Shanks drummed his fingertips on his now empty mug. Several minutes later he frowned. "Well, you have your name on your headband, so they can just return us to our ship." "But what if someone steals our clothes while we're out!" "Shanks snapped his fingers as inspiration struck like a ton of bricks. "Why don't you get a tattoo of your name just in case someone robs us. That way we'll never get lost!" This brilliant bit of drunken logic was followed by a long swig on the whisky bottle that Shanks had just relieved his friend of; to help him think, of course. "You should get one, too," Ben pointed out calmly amused, finally adding in his two cents. "Just in case you two get separated, that is." Both Shanks and Yasopp stared at Ben with expressions of awe and wonder. "Brilliant!" "Perfect!" "Let's go!" And they were off, leaving Ben to follow, shaking his head. "I was only kidding..." The Very Next Morning... Dawn came in the form of a very irritating, very bright beam of light that rather spitefully aimed itself straight at Yasopp's eyes. A loud groan to his left indicated that he was not alone in his persecution by the sun. With supreme effort and no small miracle, Yasopp levered himself into a generally upright position and scrubbed at his gritty eyes. Realization struck then that, "Ow, my head hurts!" "Ow, my butt hurts!" Obviously, Shanks was now capable of speech as well. From a distance the unmistakable sound of Lucky Roux's voice laughingly called, "Yeah, but isn't that normal, Captain?" Belatedly, Yasopp realized they were back on the ship. Then he noticed that for some reason Shanks was staring at him with the most interesting expression. He made a vaguely inquisitive sound and squinted. "What?" Choking on a laugh, the red-haired captain managed to get a hand out from under himself and point, "You! Aahahahhahaa! You've got your name tattooed on your forehead!" As the red-head cackled gleefully to himself, Ben made his way over to him and leaned down so he was level with the maniacally grinning man's ear. "If you think that's funny, you should see where you got -your- name tattooed," he murmured, then smirked and casually strolled away. The laughter stopped suddenly, and Shanks and Yasopp shared a look. Then, they nodded as one, and loudly proclaimed, "I swear, I will never drink again!" Shanks paused a moment in thought, then added, in a slightly more subdued voice, "And this time, I mean it." -End-