"Wha- what's with this terrifying appetite that rivals even Toriko-san's?" Komatsu gaped openly at the two men who were devouring every scrap of food placed in front of them more quickly than the chefs in the Hotel Gourmet's kitchen could bring plates out. But mostly he was focused on the strange boy capable of keeping pace with Toriko's black hole of a stomach.

"How can he possibly eat so much? If you compare sizes, Toriko-san is at least twice that of Luffy-san, and he has those muscles..." He turned helplessly to the composed blond man sitting beside him.

Sanji puffed leisurely on his cigarette before saying, "It's his body. Pretty soon you'll see that Luffy is just as much of a monster, if not more so, than your friend over there."

"No way! Something like that-" Yet even as Komatsu said it, the proof was growing right before his eyes.

Luffy's stomach was bulging. Not a little bit, the way Toriko's did when he'd finished devouring some huge meal, but full on expanding until it was grotesquely disproportionate to the rest of him.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Komatsu screeched.

"He's made of rubber, that idiot. What does it matter how small your body is when every part of you can stretch, and you have an appetite the size of a planet?"

"T-this is insane." The smaller cook shuddered as he watched Luffy stuff three whole turkeys in his mouth and swallow without chewing. A profusely sweating man in a suit approached, hands wringing nervously. "What's wrong?" Komatsu asked warily.

"I'm so sorry, Head Chef! We've run out of food ahead of schedule."

"…How much is left?" Komatsu had a horrible feeling he might already know.

"What's on the table."

Toriko and Luffy, intensely sensitive to anything food related, perked up from across the room. They stopped stuffing their faces just long enough to survey what remained: a single platter of meat.

The burst of killing intent was sudden, powerful. Komatsu was thrown backwards and would have hit the wall if Sanji hadn't nimbly snagged his shirt on the tip of one shoe.

"We need to stop them, Sanji-san! They'll destroy the restaurant!" he pleaded.

"You're on your own with this. I know better then to get between Luffy and his meat if I want all my limbs intact." Sanji dropped Komatsu and began walking towards the exit. "If you have any sense, you'll come with me."

"But-" The splintered leg of a table hurtled through the space above Komatsu's head, imbedding itself in the wall like a dagger. Two howls rang out: the spine-chilling cries of starving animals.


Komatsu crossed his fingers; perhaps if he prayed hard enough, the hotel would still be standing when the smoke cleared.

A/N - I really wish these manga weren't so compatible. Makes me really, really wanna write Komatsu and Sanji geeking out over their kitchenware and what sort of wine tastes the best with certain meals and so on. Nami would team up with Sanji in a backwards bishokuya/chef combo where hunter depends on chef because she wants that ridiculous level of wealth all top bishokuya seem to have achieved.

Heck, why not go all out and have the entire Straw Hat crew join together in the most unconventional partnership ever, for the awesome reason of going on mad adventures and eating delicious food and getting in fights and then eating more delicious food? The thought of Luffy with gourmet cells is a terrifying one.