I do not own Sherlock Holmes in any way XD

This is a ridiculously amazing (cracktastic and hilarious) Omegle Chat RP I had... By far the best one of my life. It was at about 2 a.m., so pardon the failing grammar/spelling/etc. Sherlock trying alcohol! IT'S WORTH IT!

...

You: A night out, to the local pub. After much convincing and patience, Lestrade and John Watson had convinced their favorite consulting detective to join them. He had wryly commented "I'm not interested." and "That sounds dull." for a while, but then right as the two would give up John stated "An experiment, Sherlock. It's like an experiment." This hooked the detective and he found himself tagging along. He'd never been a drinker, although a cocaine addict and a smoker; he found alcohol unnecessary and brain-rotting. But he'd never even had alcohol, it'd never interested him; not until this moment right here. He assumed John and Lestrade were average, but he feared if he even had a sip he'd get tipsy. Then again, what was the worst that could happen? He couldn't back out on the experiment now. Three pints were given to their table at the musty pub, filled with drunk men and loose women, John and Lestrade began to drink but Sherlock eyed it awkwardly. "You can't deduce beer, Sherlock." Lestrade chortled, trying to relax and celebrate after a stressful case. Sherlock raised his eyebrows "I wasn't trying to."

Stranger: John laughed. "Go on, have a drink. It's not poisonous. Or drugged." He added pointedly. He was never going to let him live that down.

You: Sherlock raised an eyebrow and stated in a matter-of-factly fashion "I don't drink." It was bizarre, had he expected someone to offer him tea and crumpets? Lestrade fought down a chuckle as he downed half his mug. "C'mon, Holmes, have a little fun! Stop being so boring!" He patted his friend on the back before turning to someone else to speak. Sherlock's eyebrows knitted together and he watched the mug before him in contempt.

Stranger: "What, you'll fill your body with all sorts of drugs and whatnot, but not even a sip of beer? What are you afraid is going to happen?" John joked lightly, though curious as to what was holding him back.

You: Sherlock then hesitantly raised the mug to his lips, but stopped and said. "John, people drink when they want to escape feelings of sorrow or stress; to force them to relax. Why would you have any reason to drink?" Lestrade elbowed John and whispered low enough for Sherlock to not hear "'Cause you room with a freak." Sherlock heard the term 'freak' and narrowed his eyes, he'd never been fond of that term people labeled him as. Sherlock brought the mug to his lips, as a way to prove he could do it and that he could complete his experiment, and downed a small sip. It burned in his mouth and down his throat, settling in a pit of warmth within his stomach. The detective grimaced and twisted his features slightly, finding the drink revolting and bitter. He forced himself to take another swig, this time it was a little less impacting as far as the foul taste went.

Stranger: "People also drink to have a little fun. That's all." John assured him, smiling slightly at Sherlocks grimace. "It gets easier the more you drink. Like it?" He asked with a laugh, assuming that he didnt. Interesting experiment for both of them.

You: Sherlock shook his head like a child forced to eat a plate of vegetables he didn't like. "But I want to experience this alcohol's impacts firsthand, as you all seem to be doing that." Sherlock had been a druggie, experimenting in and after University with stimulants that made him hyper and a bit psychopathic. His most commonly used, which he got hooked on; cocaine. But never, never in his life, had he had alcohol. Much less strong shots and beer, while all these others were used to it; he was a bit unnerved by it. He continued to down it, and only halfway through his pint he was tipsy. Sherlock had a very low tolerance to alcohol, but a high one to any sort of drug. He wasn't resilient on this however.

Stranger: John took a final swig of his glass, finishing his pint. He grinned at Sherlock, excited by the thought of him getting drunk, cutting loose for once. He wondered idly what sort of drunk he would be before ordering another round for the table, fo

You: The detective began to speak more, blabbering on and on about his experiments and crimes he'd solved. People were interested, but called his bluff about his abilities. He began to spill everyone's secrets and stories he'd deduced within seconds, earning three glares, a few chuckles, and one slap from an enraged woman who'd been trying to find some solace in others; not shame and shunning. Sherlock had more, eventually trying to take a few shots; by now he was telling bad jokes and laughing at them even though they weren't that funny. They had to do with geeky things like chemistry. Either that or just downright awful corny jokes that were overused or dry in humor. Lestrade brought over more, only slightly tipsy now; he didn't plan on getting too drunk. But he saw an opportunity and began snapping pictures here and there, mainly of Sherlock's antics.

Stranger: John laughed at Sherlock being slapped (he certainly deserved it), but frowned slightly at Lestrade snapping pictures. Sherlock was definitely going to regret most of this in the morning. Especially with his first hang over. John grimaced at how unbearable he was sure to be

You: Sherlock had more, being encouraged by excited drunks; they began handing him powerful shots, mainly because he mindlessly said that he'd never been to a pub before, or had a drink. This was their world, not his. Sherlock laughed, somehow losing his trenchcoat in the midst of all the interesting events around him. He got up and disappeared somewhere in the pub, completely out of it. Lestrade spoke with John casually, as most adult men did at bars when they weren't seeking hussies. Then after a couple minutes they heard a howl of approval from a couple people, who were laughing and commenting and yelling at whatever was happening. "I just realized something… John we let DRUNK Sherlock go out unsupervised with THOSE people." He stood, only a bit wobbly and off-coordination.

Stranger: "Oh god no." John replied, standing up and keeping his balance. "We shouldn't have let drunk Sherlock go anywhere. He gets in enough trouble when he's sober!" John walked with a slight unsteadiness to where he heard the voices coming from, trying to spot his flatmate

You: Lestrade almost peed his pants when he saw Sherlock on a table holding a mug of beer and dancing, people cheering him on and egging him to drink more. "CHUG! CHUG!" He raised the glass he had in his hand and grinned excitedly, downing the liquid within rather quickly; but the other half poured down his shirt. He hadn't had much more than anyone else had, and yet he was already at this point. The "audience" so to say, loved it. Sherlock's shirt was unbuttoned slightly, revealing his pale white chest, and his locks were clinging to his face (someone had poured a shot on his head), he was overall disheveled. His shirt was untucked and one of his shoelaces were untied, and lord knows where his scarf and jacket went! Sherlock could barely stand properly, swaying from side to side and laughing at everything that happened. A part of it was nice to see Sherlock so giddy and different, a bit frightening, and undeniably hilarious. Lestrade took photos and a short video of Sherlock trying to recite people's life stories while drinking, most of which wasn't even hitting his mouth anymore.

Stranger: John stifled a laugh. Never, in the entire time he'd known Sherlock Holmes, had he ever thought he would see the man like this. John enjoyed it for a moment before trying to call him down. "Sherlock, I think you've had enough, mate. Don't you want to go back to the flat and sleep it off?" Before you do something you'll regret even more, he added silently.

You: Sherlock shook his head "I'm flyin' JAWN!" He then spread his arms out like wings and drunkenly stumbled off the table, landing ungracefully on the floor. He regained himself and stood, cheesily smiling. "Let's dance Jawn! C'mon let's 'ave a go!" he twirled John around and swayed from side to side. Lestrade had it all on video.

Stranger: John laughed in surprise, flushing slightly. This was… Sort of fantastic. It was like he was an entirely different person! He went along with Sherlock for a bit, swatting at Lestrade's video with a laugh.

You: Sherlock lurched forward and felt as though he were to vomit, but then he just got up and did a slight half-turn. His attention was drawn from John and over to Lestrade's camera. "Oh my GOD!" His voice went up about 3 octaves higher (if you've ever heard Benedict Cumberbatch do that… Yeah.) Lestrade was laughing so hard it was completely silent, and borderline painful.

Stranger: John laughed as well, hunching over forward. He didnt even know his voice could go that high! Johns eyes were nearly watering as he continued to watch Sherlock act like some sort of hyper active child. Or full adult who had drank himself blind

Stranger:

You: Sherlock laughed with them, not knowing it was directed at him; he just found everything so humorous. He was completely different, acting loony on the feeling. Sherlock then disappeared into a crowd while the two laughed; it was impossible to find him. He was drinking heavy shots and believed he was a superhero. "SUPERSHERLOCK!" He hollered as he fumbled with his shirt; eventually just ripping it down the middle.

You: Then he drawled out as people as drunk as him pounced on him, rubbed against him, and flirted with him "That's my parrrtnnnneeerrrrr…. Overr theerre." He pointed at John smiling with his eyelids drooping. Lestrade, of course, got this on film as well.

Stranger: John laughed again, though slightly embarrassed. He was surprised Sherlock hadn't vomited yet. He walked over and managed to pull him out of the drunk blob of people. "Half your clothes are gone, now!" He chuckled. He like drunk Sherlock.

You: Sherlock laughed then retched, heaving out the contents in his stomach into someone else's empty mug. He reeled and slid to one side, then to the next. "I…" He drawled out very long, slurring his words together. "Doon't let Mycroft eat alllthe cakes JAWN."

You: "JAWN" He hollered, even though the man was in front of him. Then he whispered "he's… gunnnn…. eat." Then Sherlock stumbled towards John after wiping his mouth, he got close to John and then said "He's gunnnn eatchu."

Stranger: John laughed again, trying to help support the larger man. "Going to eat me, eh?" He grinned at him, hoping he wouldn't vomit again for a while.

You: Sherlock nodded, very serious. Completely serious, in fact. Then someone said something and Sherlock turned, leaning halfway on the smaller man; who was only up to his shoulder or so. "THISSS ISSSSS…" He started, then burped loudly. "MY FRIEND JAWN…" A few people, who were almost as out of it as Sherlock waved and murmured "Hi John, Hi." Sherlock smiled, forgetting where he was going with it for a while, then he remembered "AND HE… Is a HOBBITSESses…ses." Sherlock looked thoroughly confused by his words, but then again; everything was hazy to him now. His shirt was torn completely, the buttons popped clean off from where he tore it, his curls were wild, sweat dripped from his brow, and instead of a missing shoelace he had almost lost his shoe twice.

Stranger: ((LOL))

You: Lestrade was howling with laughter. But the hysteria didn't end there. "Jawnn Wahtsuhn… we are staying aliive…" Then he broke into a horrid melody of "AH HA HA AH STAYIN ALIIVE STAYIN ALIVE" in a very off-putting tone, he got the notes but they sounded dreadful because of how slurred his speech was and how he forget where he was going with it and would just go "Nah nah ha ha nyeh nuh nah nah"

You: ((This is killing me))

Stranger: John was laughing so hard that he nearly collapsed with the larger man on top of him. He was suddenly very glad of Lestrade's recording; he would want to watch this many time

Stranger: *times

You: "SING WITH ME JAWN!" He yelled right into the man's ear, even though he was right there. "NAH NAH NUH NEH STHAYING ALIIVE." Sherlock then fell into awkward lack of song and said. "There's a thpider in yer hair." He then swatted a drunken man atop the head, the man didn't even realize what'd happened and just kept on going about his business. Everyone was going crazy, and Lestrade stopped drinking just to catch it all on film.

You: Then Sherlock pushed himself from John and stumbled forward, to the street. "Jawnn.. I need to go hooome." He moaned, going from side to side and even almost tripping over his own feet. "Jawnn…" He continued. "JAWN" He was already out the door into the cold night air. Lestrade followed him, giggling like a schoolgirl; catching it all on film.

Stranger: John rushed outside with him, staying beside him, ready to catch him if he leaned too far. "Yes, home, that sounds like a brilliant idea." He smiled back at Lestrade. "I'm glad we were able to convince him to do this!"

You: Lestrade nodded through his tears from laughing so hard. A cab driver came over, stopping and letting them in. "221… B…. Buht… Baker…. Bay-kurr… Strheet." Sherlock still had the sense to tell the cabbie where they'd go, as hard as it was to understand. He then poked his head out of the window; right into Lestrade's camera (as Lestrade planned on taking a separate cab) "I get to sleep with Jawn tohnight." He meant it in a purely simplistic innocent way, as in he would be in the same flat as him. But that's where the video stopped, oh the rumors would be marvelous; wouldn't they? Lestrade then waved goodbye "Aye, you have fun with that Sherly." He then ruffled the man's curls, who didn't even register what he'd said; only laughed again in an awkward fashion before pulling himself back into the cab.

Stranger: John laughed as well. They were going to be the blunt of numerous jokes over the next few weeks, but it was all worth it.

You: Once back at the apartment, Sherlock got out of the cab; the world was spinning around him. "MAKE IT STAHP JAWN!" He hollered, reeling completely; stumbling before falling flat on his face. He groaned and just lay there.

You: "Mmhkitsthuuupp" he then tried to say in a muffled tone, face smushed against the pavement.

Stranger: John chuckled, hoisting Sherlocks arm over his shoulder to help carry him. "It'll stop when you're in bed. Oh, Sherlock, you're going to be miserable tomorrow morning." He laughed again as he helped the man into their flat.

You: As soon as the door opened Mrs. Hudson called "Boys? Is that you?" She then appeared in her dressing gown, covering her mouth to stifle a snicker. "Anything you want to explain?" She asked the two, mainly referring to Sherlock being half dressed and drunk out of his mind. "We're mEhn and we need our…. Naps." Sherlock drawled, seeing Mrs. Hudson chuckle and give John a 'What did you do to my Sherlock?' expression.

Stranger: ((You should totally write a fanfic about this))

You: ((You should copy it and put it on or tumblr xD))

Stranger: John laughed. "One of his experiments. He wanted to try alcohol, and…" He laughed again. "I'm just going to help put him to bed."

Stranger: (Tumblr would love this)

You: Mrs. Hudson shook her head and asked "What am I going to DO with you boys?!" She turned and went to her room. Sherlock giggled and tried to make his way up the stairs, John pushing him up and trying to guide him. But Sherlock kept turning around and trying to speak, actually knocking them down a few steps when he lost his balance again.

You: ((Really? I have an account but I don't use it XD))

Stranger: (Yeah they would love this lol)

You: ((idk how to use tumblr xD you can if you want))

Stranger: John tried to support him, pushing him through the door. "Whew. I never realized heavy you are." He chuckled.

Stranger: *how heavy

You: Sherlock growled in response, making a strange gurgling sound; a guttural animalistic noise. He then proceeded to vomit once more before stumbling about the room. John attempted to get him to go to bed, but made the mistake of being closer to the bed than Sherlock; who just fell forward and CRUSHED John Watson underneath him. "Cozzyyyy…" Sherlock drawled, believing the jumper to be rather soft and blanket-like. He couldn't lift himself, his body felt as though it were full of lead.

Stranger: "Oohff!" John gasped. He was aware of how barely clothed Sherlock was, and would've laughed if he'd been able to get more air. He was oddly comfortable as well.

You: Sherlock then fell into a deep slumber almost immediately, his weight probably suffocating John Watson. There was no way anything could wake Sherlock up either, John was merely stuck.

Stranger: John tried to get as comfortable as possible, wondering idly how Sherlock would feel about this when he awoke.

You: **THE NEXT MORNING**

You: Sherlock awoke with a throbbing head, as if he'd been beaten many times. He was on something lumpy, definitely not a bed or a couch. He could barely move his body felt so aching and full, also he was half-dressed. All he had was a torn and stained white-button down shirt that was completely open, pants that had fallen lower on his hips than the norm, and one shoe. He groaned loudly, holding his throbbing head and rolling off onto the floor with a loud thud, which only made his moaning intensify. "Shit.." You heard, Sherlock never swore; this was clearly massive for him.

Stranger: Johns eyes creaked open as he got a good breath of fresh air. He sat up slowly, a dull pounding in his head. A hangover, but not too bad. "Sherlock?" He asked blearily.

You: All there was in reply was a loud low sound, followed by Sherlock vomiting into a vase of flowers. "What the bloody hell… happened?" He groaned. He fumbled for his phone and his eyes widened as he had gotten text messages from Lestrade, and a video attachment. "Oh God.." he groaned, dropping his phone to the floor. "I bloody well hate beer."

Stranger: John burst out wi a laugh, but the sound was too loud, and he stopped. "Moderation. Maybe if you'd had a few - or a dozen- less." John replied, stretching

You: The loud sound of John laughing made his head whirl. "Shut up, you idiot." He grumbled, pulling himself off the ground and dragging himself out of the room to heave into the toilet instead of one of Mrs. Hudson's favored vases. On the floor was his phone, and a video of all that'd happened. A text: "I send Watson it all on his email; you'll have it forever."

Stranger: John smirked. "I'll make some coffee. That should help a bit. And you should watch the video, quite entertaining if I remember correctly."

You: Sherlock cursed out loud from the bathroom, but it was barely distinct over the sounds of him vomiting up his guts. However, an hour or so later after his hangover had calmed down he was in his sheet after a shower; having brushed his teeth a few times as well. He came out of the bathroom, eyes red and half-lidded. He was clearly not in the mood for any of John's sass. He saw that the doctor had gotten the pictures and video up on his laptop and curiously approached. "What's that?"

Stranger: "Oh, I'm not sure you want to see this quite yet. Might want to wait til you have your humor back." Since when did Sherlock have humor? Other than when he was drunk, of course. John showed him some of the pictus.

Stranger: *pictures

Stranger: (Sorry, I gtg. But you should seriously write a fanfic (editing my parts, of course))

You: Sherlock's eyes widened and he felt his heartrate pick up. "That's not me." He defensively said. But there was no denying that the man laughing and dancing and being a nuisance was Sherlock Holmes. He then saw a few other pictures, which were hilarious.