Prompt from Poseidon - God of the Seas - Watson and Holmes get really drunk.

The Adventure of the Drunken Gentlemen

"We won!" cried a loud, too happy voice from down the row of cells.

"Indeed we did!" cried another. This exclamation was followed by a loud belch and much laughter.

Lestrade looked to the tall, bewhiskered sergeant on his right and raised a disbelieving eyebrow. The sergeant, by name of Jones, nodded knowingly.

"When did you bring them in?" Lestrade asked.

"Constables Ships and Dunham responded to a minor disturbance near the Shadwell docks, sir," Sergeant Jones told him. "Brought them and a third party into the station around an hour ago. That'd be one o'clock, near enough, sir."

"I can hardly believe it!" shouted one of the pair in the cell. "We won!"

"And 'is fa… fahhhaa… hhhis fa…"

"His face!"

"Face! Yes 'is face!" The laughter from the cell was uproarious. "Did you see 'is fa… face when he… What was I saying? Oh! When he hit the floor? Did you see 'is face?"

More laughter filled the narrow hallway.

"Who was the third gentleman the constables brought in?" Lestrade asked.

"Not a gentleman, Inspector," Jones said. "Isaiah Murphy. Known by some as Bruiser Murphy."

"Bruiser Murphy?" Lestrade demanded. "The man wanted for questioning in the Trimble case?"

"The same, sir," confirmed Jones. "He's in there with them. Like three peas in a pod, they are, sir. Wouldn't have troubled you with this except the tall one asked for you by name and presented me one of your cards, sir."

"Come with me and open the cell door," Lestrade ordered and strode down the hall without waiting to see if the tall sergeant followed.

Jones turned the key in the lock and opened the heavy door. The cell, lit by a single overhead gas lamp, contained three figures. One man, tall and lean with an aquiline nose and an eye patch pushed up on his brow, sat on a wooden bench leaning his back against the wall in the corner of the cell. A second, more stoutly built man with a thick mustache and several days growth of beard slouched on the floor with his elbows on his knees. A third man, as large as the other two combined, lay face down, snoring into the stone floor near the grated drain. The two who were awake looked up as Lestrade entered and cheered.

"We won!" they shouted in unison.

"Fah! It stinks like a distillery in here!" Lestrade coughed, waving his hand in front of his face and frowning. He blinked at the two men as they attempted to rise.

"It'sssh Leshdrade!" cried the man slouching on the floor as he made an effort to get up. "Homesh! Leshdrade!"

"Yes," the lean man said and swayed as if hit by a sudden, strong wind. "I see who… I see who it is. Good evening, Inspector. Or is it morning? It can't be morning, yet. Can it? Never mind! We won!"

"We won!" laughed the other man who seemed far too drunk to do more than flop back against the wall. "Owe! I thinnnk I... hurt… my head."

"What did you win?" demanded Lestrade, staring in utter astonishment at the pair of them and then down on the sleeping giant.

"Drinking contest," said the man with the eye patch.

"We won!" chuckled the other man and then frowned and pressed his lips tightly together for a moment. "I think I might be sick."

"You do that, me lad, and you'll be cleaning it up yourself!" snapped Sergeant Jones, taking a step into the cell.

"Sergeant!" Lestrade barked, preempting whatever the tall uniformed man intended. "Fetch two constables to help move Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes to the interrogation room. And send for a doctor."

"Holmes, sir?" Jones asked, looking a little surprised. "Right away, Inspector!"

The sergeant moved quickly from the cell and down the hall, his hard leather soles making sharp scuffing sounds on the old stone.

"Mr. Holmes," Lestrade said, crossing the cell to help Dr. Watson to his feet. "Why did you get into a drinking contest with Bruiser Murphy?"

"Just look at him, Lestrade!" Holmes laughed. "We… We couldn't very well knock him out. Especially with all of his friends arrrra… around. Watson's idea. Good old Watson!"

"We won…." moaned Watson, sliding down the wall from where Lestrade had propped him.

"Drank him under the table," Holmes said with a crooked grin and blearily pleased eyes. "I'm going to fall down now."

When Sergeant Jones returned with a pair of bobbies they found Inspector Lestrade standing over the pair, shaking his head and smiling gently.

"They won," he said and waved the three into the cell.