AN: SOOOO... this was taken from an rp with me and a friend. ;D So it's totally cracky. There's mentions of drugs and stuff and cursing galore... and there's a hint at a racial remark... just to warn you. D8 BUT IT'S NOT MEANT TO OFFEND.

So... enjoy. c:

Denmark had already lost to Holland earlier in the week, and had been teased about it since that particular game. Now, in just a few short hours, he was to match with Cameroon, and should he lose to him as well, he'd never hear the end of it.

Not that it mattered much to him, of course.

"I'll be staying in the hotel room," Norway had responded to the Dane's exuberant idea of getting totally wasted before the soccer match. He didn't care what the other man did at this point, and, in actuality, would be pleased to see him lose in a drunken soccer match, for it gave an excuse to harass him.

As the Norwegian receded back to the room, Denmark bounded down the hallway of the hotel to a nearby room, rapping on it several times. He was getting Holland out – not to tell him of his "awesome" idea, but to get him to come drinking with him. (Prussia had overheard and said he'd join, too, but Denmark rejected him – "YOU'RE NOT REALLY EVEN IN FUCKING FIFA.")

Holland didn't refuse the request. After his winning match with Japan, he didn't have any other games today. In fact, he was pretty overexcited that he was chosen over the Prussian, as he retorted with, "I AM JUST WINNING EVERYWHERE TODAY!"

"Not at The Game," Denmark reminded him, to his disgust.

The two nations left the hotel, Holland's arm draped across Denmark's shoulders, and hopped into a car, but not without the Dane jumping through the window of the passenger seat, giving an obnoxious yell of "SHOTGUN~!" that even Norway could hear up in the hotel room – three stories up in the hotel room, and on the opposite side of the parking lot.

Being an avid drug-user, the Dutchman had smoked a couple blunts earlier, and therefore wasn't really in any condition to drive. But Denmark wasn't exactly either, being hyped up (high on life, if you will). So... the two settled for Holland to drive.

And he drove like a maniac, as expected.

Coupling up the Dane with his eccentric driving didn't help. Every five seconds his hand darted to the radio, switching it to a new station each time (he obviously wasn't too fond of South Africa's music choices). He finally settled on a station after much searching, however.

Now he was hanging out the car window, Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up" blaring at near full volume. (Honestly, how did he manage to find that on South Africa's radio?) The car weaved in and out of traffic, at Holland's unsafe discretion, with Denmark yelling out random obscenities at other cars and random people, for no real reason at all.

They took a quick turn into a parking lot and the car was stopped short. The Dane, not even drunk yet, was thrown through the passenger window, landing on the pavement.

"Now, Denmark... we have to be careful," Holland's mood was suddenly serious as he loomed over the other man. He picked him up from the ground and was met with a few angry swats.

A pipe was lit outside the bar for the Dutchman to have a few smokes of. "God, I feel better now."

"Over what?"

A remark was made from Holland about people around them of a different... skin persuasion. Denmark had giddily replied with a, "OH, SO CAMEROON'S HERE. I DON'T WANT TO SEE HIM RIGHT NOW," but... let's just say the whole conversation was dismissed here (even though it... was not).

The pipe was snatched from Holland by the Dane and promptly stepped on, and then he grabbed his friend, hauling him off to the bar. The door was swung open, hitting a rather obese man, which caused Holland to let out a few snickers before turning serious. The obese man proceeded to pummel the Dutchman in the face (even though it was Denmark who had hit him with the door).

A punch was thrown back at the random guy, but it was pretty pointless, as the guy threw all 400-and-something pounds of his body weight at the spiky-haired man.

This was pretty damn hilarious. Denmark was tempted not to help his friend. But, he needed the drinking buddy... so he grabbed his arm and pulled him out from under all the rolls.

"... I think I was just born again," Holland remarked, before being shoved by the other in the direction of the actual bar.

With a glare at the Dane he sat down, the latter hopping onto a barstool next to him. Another rather sketchy remark was made about those of a different skin persuasion, which left the Dutchman questioning, "Are we in Africa?"

"OBVIOUSLY, MAN," Denmark reprimanded, "THIS IS SOUTH AFRICA."

Holland was dazed. The pot was really getting to his head now. "I'm in Africa... ? OH, YEAH!"

The Danish man, with a roll of his eyes, got up, heading to the bathrooms. "ORDER ME SOMETHIN' – I GOTTA GO TAKE A PISS."

His friend, who remained at the bar, ordered something for himself, and then went on to request a Cosmopolitan for the other.

"I'M BAAAAAAAACK~!" There was a trail of toilet paper sticking to the bottom of Denmark's shoe as he came hopping back to his seat, which he took quite cheerfully. "What'd you order me?"

The drink was slid over in his direction. What the fuck was this? Not beer!

Enraged, the Dane's hand smacked into the drink... which landed on a certain fat guy somewhere near them. Who then proceeded to pummel the Dutchman in the face... again. He went flying and Denmark, uncaring, ordered a beer for himself, and downed it within a few seconds.

His pal was in a bar fight with the fat guy again, but this time he was fighting back. But the Dane wouldn't have him win a bar fight... these were far different than soccer matches. So he stuck his empty can in the obese man's asscrack.

Then he hauled ass to the other side of the bar and ordered some more drinks.

The fight didn't last long. All Holland had to do was get up and kick the other man, which... sent him rolling, literally. Nonchalantly, the spiky-haired man ordered another drink for himself and lit another pipe.

Denmark shouted at him from across the bar. "CHRIST, WHAT'S WITH YOUR COMPULSIVE SMOKING." By now, he was getting pretty wasted. He ambled over to the other, smacking the pipe from his hands.

"WHAT THE HELL, MAN. I SMOKE WHEN I FUCKING WANT! … SHIT!" Between the two, the pipe and woodwork beneath it caught fire.

Holland was the second one to haul ass today. And he hauled it straight out of the bar.

Too drunk to notice (or care, for that matter), Denmark was rolling on the floor of the bar, as the rest of the bar evacuated.

Disoriented, the Dutchman returned with a bright, "Forgot this!" He retrieved the burning pipe, then gave an amused look toward his friend. It seemed like he forgot the bar was burning down, as he remained standing there. "Do a barrel roll!"

The drunken man followed orders. And he barrel rolled straight into that fat guy again (where the fuck does he keep coming from?).

Now would be a good time to act like a tulip, right? In Holland's mind it was. His body dropped to the floor with a yell of, "I'M A TULIP!" and he pretended to bloom. Then he pretended to whither as Denmark back flipped off the fat man and onto him.

There was a cry of, "GET UP, HORSEY," as the Dane slapped his ass.

Neighs were drawn from the other man, followed by, "YOU'RE A VERY NAUGHTY COWBOY! SEXUAL HARASSMENT!" He bucked around, trying to get Denmark off him.

Panic set in, randomly, of course. "IT'S 7:45. I'M GONNA BE LATE FOR MY GAME. RIDE, HORSEY, RIDE."

Then they took off to the stadium. Their car was left in the parking lot of the burning bar... but it wasn't like they could really drive it like this, anway

When they got there, Denmark rolled off his "horse" (with many confused spectators), then ambled to the locker room's. His drinking buddy trailed behind him.

As the Dane went to enter the locker room, Holland stopped. "... I better not go in there."

"Why not? You got a vagina?" Denmark teased.

"NO, I DON'T! But I beat you guys the other day."

"OH, SO YOU THINK YOU'LL GET JUMPED."

"JA."

The two men – one drunk, one high – gained more spectators as they shouted at each other.

Finally, the Dutchman retreated to the stands, leaving the drunken Dane to prepare.

There was a blare of those annoying horn things that South African's loved to blow a little too much as the match started between Denmark and Cameroon. Totally wasted, all according to plan, the Dane took a shaky step onto the field.

This would be interesting.