Theme 4 of the 100 themes writing challenge- rivalry

one piece fanfiction this time. I focussed on the rivalry between Sanji and Zoro, just because I felt they were the funniest rivalry I could have picked and I felt like writing something a bit funny :D
On a slightly unrelated note, all the way through this I couldn't stop comparing them to Gimli and Legolas from the lord of the rings. Don't know why, but I do know that there is somthing incredibly hilarious about thinking of Zoro as a dwarf... That's all I have to say, now you have that image with you for the rest of your life :P

Enjoy :) x

Zoro downed his third pint, staring across at his stationary drinking-mate. The other two were whizzing around the pub at high speed thanks to one of Luffy's rubber arms and a ceiling fan. The poor barmaid who had won the misfortune of serving them was busy chasing them around the room in an attempt to stop the rebellious antics.

Sanji refused to break eye-contact with his drinking partner as he matched the swordsman's third pint with one final gulp. The sounds of Luffy and Usopp flying around the room at a high velocity couldn't distract him. Surprisingly, neither could the distressed voice of the pretty, young barmaid who had served them. When he took up a challenge he rarely allowed himself to be distracted, especially if said challenge was against the ship's resident lazy marimo.

He almost hadn't believed it when Nami had practically thrown their two troublesome crewmates at the two of them whilst they'd been mid-argument, shouting something along the lines of "Get these two off the ship before they break something!" He guessed that her logic was that if they broke anything whilst onshore at least it wouldn't be theirs and therefore she wouldn't have to fork out to pay for a replacement.

A loud crash and two sets of chortling laughter announced that Luffy had decided it was a good time to let go of the spinning fan. Zoro rolled his eyes before reaching for his next pint, Sanji mirroring his actions as they started on their fourth round.

Sanji thought back on the stakes of their little drinking contest and allowed himself a small smirk. Whoever lost would have to take both Luffy and Usopp first thing tomorrow for a trip around the island, with the hangover this competition was sure to produce it would be like taking a short vacation to hell. Although, with the amount of noise their captain could make, hell was potentially the more attractive option.

Zoro had this in the bag, there was no way that dainty little chef could outdrink him. He'd had enough years of practice to know that it took a hell of a lot of alcohol a lot stronger than the pig-swill they served here to knock him out. Sanji on the other hand had no such experience, he could already see the blonde getting a bit tipsy and they hadn't even reached the fifth round. He had no chance.

Luffy and Usopp joined them at the table, watching as they worked through the fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth rounds. As they started for their ninth Luffy chipped in, "Sanji, you don't look too good."

Zoro had to hold back the triumphant shout that tried to force its way up his throat, the cook had to grit his teeth to keep his answer steady enough to convince their captain that he was fine. Even then the other man didn't look convinced and Usopp looked even more sceptical.

Nevertheless they moved onto round ten; it was always a difficult one for amateurs, Zoro thought it was probably something to do with the psychology behind having reached double digits. Well, usually that was what he would think, at the moment his brain was starting to feel a bit fuzzy. Perhaps the drink was stronger than he's first thought.

If Zoro was feeling a bit fuzzy, Sanji had practically sprouted ears and a tail. By this point he was starting to regret taking the swordsman's challenge, the room seemed intent on moving every time he shifted his head slightly and it was beginning to make him feel slightly ill.

The inane chattering of Luffy and Usopp really wasn't helping either. Usopp was telling one of his tall tales again, something about the time he had finished thirty pints without even breaking a sweat. Of course their incredibly gullible captain lapped up every word. Zoro just snorted and made some comment about "only thirty?" as he slid the eleventh pint across the table into the blonde's waiting hands.

He looked down into the mug with dread. He couldn't finish this one. He knew it. Zoro knew it. Hell, even Luffy and Usopp would probably have known it if they weren't so ridiculously dim. He groaned quietly before tipping his head and the mug back in one swoop. Smacking the mug back down on the table he smirked at the swordsman.

"Well, I have to admit I'm impressed." The green-haired man admitted with a sly look in his eyes as his downed his own drink, making them even at eleven. "Eleven is very impressive for a lightweight like you."

If he hadn't known with complete certainty that he'd miss and make a fool of himself he would have taken a swipe at the bastard's head.

Instead, he reached for the next pint, missed completely, and somehow ended up waking up on the floor a few moments later. He managed to pull himself up onto his seat as he looked around in a dazed fashion. "What happened?"

"You missed the tankard and knocked yourself out on the edge of the table." Zoro answered, his face impassive but his voice hiding the laugh he was trying to disguise.

Sanji felt his face heat up; he'd never hear the end of it once they reached the ship. He tried to grab the tankard again only to have it pulled from his grasp.

"Nu-uh, you've had enough." Zoro smirked at him. "Anyway, if you have any more you won't get up early tomorrow to take these two out."

Sanji silently swore revenge, preferably something incredibly bloody and painful.

"Come on, we're heading back to the ship. You two help him, he's not gonna be able to walk otherwise."

Sanji began counting the different methods of torture he knew in his head as Luffy and Usopp helped him to his feet. As he was half-carried/half-dragged out of the pub he wondered whether he could possibly put something in his food which would cause a slow and painful death.

By the time they'd reached the ship he'd dropped his plans, he'd just settle for throwing a bucket of water over the dumb marimo at six am every day for the next month and a half. That would really make him angry.