I'll take a Shrump for 500, please!
This fun lil bit of writing here, featuring Tram and Poline (like trampoline, hehehe), the two dumbest Vice Admirals on the sea:
“I don’t know why they’re sending two Vice-Admirals to Shrunkle’s Shrimp Shack-Up BBQ and B&B either,” Tram says, sighing. He ran out of cigarettes two blocks back when a decidedly brown wave had hit him and soaked his whole outfit and all its contents.
“Maybe it’s the weather conditions?” Poline muses. She, with her superior observation haki and reaction time, still has her coat a crisp white. “The waves here are pretty… gnarly.”
The last word hangs there. Tram wonders how a young lady such as his colleague can sound so much like an out-of-touch geriatric when using anything remotely close to slang.
That thought is interrupted when a boy comes careening down the way at inhuman speeds. The only reason he’s even visible is because every so often he stops and picks up the shrimp that have fallen from his overfilled bag onto the ground. It would be gross enough if he just did so with his hands, but no, this kid has to extend his lips obscenely and slurp them directly from the ground.
“…Please tell me that isn’t the latest emperor.”
Due to the way that Tram has been cursed since birth, Monkey D. Luffy slurps a shrimp wrong, causing it to smack onto Tram's already stained face. Muddy seawater, questionable quality shrimp, and emperor spit. Great.
"Hey!" The round, gormless eyes of the man who took down Kaido lock onto Tram. "That's mine! No stealing!"
Tram has the joy of watching the new emperor extend his neck until his face is so close that he can smell his breath. It smells of shellfish and meat; surprisingly, the quality of his food must be above average because Tram is not on the verge of passing out from any pirate stink. He thinks that he may be in shock, or some sort of freeze response; that's the only way that any thoughts other than run for your fucking life can be going through his head.
Wait.
"You're the Shrunkle's Shrimp thief?!" He opens his mouth wide enough in his yell that it pops the shrimp off of his cheek and Monkey D. Luffy doesn't even break eye contact as his tongue flies out of his mouth to grasp onto the airborne shellfish.
"Mmhm," the emperor nods, not saying anything beyond that due to his loud and aggressive chewing. He swallows, the small, chewed pieces of shrimp making a large lump as they descend his esophagus. It's the worst thing that Tram has ever seen in his life.
And, of course, this is when Poline has to open her mouth.
"I think we're here to arrest you," she says, as if this is a casual get together and not a fucking emperor, who also happens to be an emperor slayer. The both of them make eye contact, nothing passing between them, with the sort of blank look that would fit better on a squirrel that broke its teeth on a particularly nutty looking rock.
Tram feels his brain losing more intelligence the longer he is subject to the image. He's got to unfuck this situation somehow.
"Yep," he says, trying to fake casual so hard he heads straight into the territory of 'pissing himself'. How he and Poline made it to the rank they are, he asks himself every day. "We are here to arrest Monkey D. Luffy. But if you're not him, we can both go our separate ways. So just say you're. not. him."
Shrimp goes flying as the emperor jumps and flings his arms about with an earsplitting screech of,
"I'M MONKEY D. LUFFY, AND I'M GONNA BE KING OF THE PIRATES!!"
Tram needs a fucking raise.