Francis snickered behind his head. It was working. "Another drink?" He asked and both Matthew and Gilbert looked him. "Since you two seem so tense next to each other, you probably need it. Or maybe five drinks? Oh, never mind. I bet neither of you could hold that many..." He started to walk off and as expected, Gilbert surged out of his seat.

"Lies! I can drink that many. I...I can drink more than anyone here at this bar!" he seethed.

Easy prey. "Oh? How about..." He moved his finger around like he didn't already have someone in mind. "...that guy!"

Gilbert turned to look at Matthew. He didn't look like he could even finish two beers. Gilbert huffed with pride. "This contest is so on." And he would obliterate the competition. He did say he wanted to get drunk today right?

Matthew was confused by what just happened. He just wanted to get another drink. "Eh? I didn't agree to that!" He exclaimed. He didn't want to get in a drinking contest! That was more Alfred's thing. Speaking of Alfred, he seemed to have disappeared from his seat. A quick look around the club found him out on the dance floor. Matthew sighed to himself. He was hoping he would be able to get his brother to get him out of doing this. It wasn't something he wanted to do.

"Of course you did," Francis said before mouthing, Just go with it. Didn't he like the dancer? This should be like a flash of light in a dark, dark night. "Oh, I forgot to mention, there is a penalty for this game, just to make sure we all play seriously. Really this is all for my own good because I'm short on my quoata for today. I need to sell more." He pulled the ears out and set them on the bar. "The loser has to wear these home."

Gilbert gaped. "How did you get those?!"

"Are you bcaking out?" Francis taunted.

"...No."

"Great!" Francis set two fresh drinks in front of the two. "It starts now! Last one in their chair wins!" He didn't bother waiting for Matthew to agree.

Matthew looked at the ears. He personally wouldn't mind wearing them. They were cute and he liked cute things. But he didn't want to seem like a wimp. Especially not in front of the dancer, whose name he still didn't know. He picked up the drink and started drinking. He was sure he can handle this. At least for a little while. He wasn't a lightweight after all.

Gilbert downed his first drink quickly. Really, he more of chugged it. Since he knew he had the alcohol tolerance of a horse, it was more fun that way, or rather, he wasn't known for thinking much during any kind of competition. Francis kept the drinks coming, wondering how long it would take either of them to get drunk.

"Aw man this stuff is awesome!" Gilbert exclaimed as he grabbed another beer. "I forgot what good German beer tastes like!" Most places, you couldn't get imports like it.

Matthew silently agreed that the beer was good. Way better than any American made beer. He didn't chug his drink like the other did. He knew that would just get you drunk faster. Though he did drink it down quickly. This was a contest, after all. It was a few drinks later that he was starting to feel like he was on his way to getting drunk. He didn't want to lose! Not when he came so far. So he pushed through it.

Gilbert was already on his third beer and starting to grin a little too much. One glance at the guy next to him had him pointing a finger and laughing. "Haha! He's flushed already!" And Gilbert of course wasn't the least bit affected by his drink. He just felt a little happier. Without pause, leaned over to sling an arm around the blonde kid's back, though his expression remained taunting. "Come on, I'll tell you a trick or this won't even be a contest!"

Matthew felt himself blush in embarrassment when the other man started taunting him. He knew he shouldn't have even agreed to this contest. No matter who he was against. But just because his alcohol tolerance wasn't as high as the other's didn't give him the right to mock him. "... What?" he asked quietly, not even looking at the guy. If he did, he was sure he would do something that he would regret.

"Chug it. Like really super, super fast!" Gilbert grinned before he slid away again. After demanding another drink, he proceeded to illustrate his technique that made total sense. "You got to drink it all before the alcohol reaches your blood stream. But like, don't get drunk because that's bad. Drunks are losers. Yeah, drinking it fast is the way to go!" He finished off his fourth beer and considered the benefits of jumping behind the bar so he could reach the alcohol faster.

"I don't think it works like that.." Matthew stated. He'd seen people do it like that in drinking contests and those were the people who normally lost. He was just going to keep going his own way of drinking. Though he did drink it down slightly faster. Going to fast would make you choke on it and he didn't want to embarrass himself more than he was probably going to already.

"Of course it works that way. I have experience with this." Gilbert shook his head. "Kid, you're-" He paused and tilted his head to his side as he thought. It obviously took him some effort too because more than a few seconds passed and he couldn't even drink and think at the same time. "What's your name again?"

Matthew felt slightly offended by that though he knew he hadn't told the man his name yet. "I'll tell you my name when you tell me yours." he told him. He wasn't going to just give his name out to someone he barely knows. He wasn't an idiot like Alfred. Though he was sure his brother did know better than to give his name to strangers.

Gilbert full on pouted. That wasn't an answer! If the kid wasn't going play like that, he wouldn't get good conversation with his good beer. "My name's Peter Rabbit of course. Everyone knows that." Really, did he think Gilbert would give him his real name? He wouldn't, even if he were really drunk. There were reasons for it. Gilbert turned away, drinking the last of his beer fast even by his own standards, leaving him gasping for breath after.

"And my name is Cheshire Cat." Matthew responded, clearly being sarcastic. If the guy wasn't going to give his real name, then neither was he. That would just be stupid. Of course, this would only work if Alfred didn't come over here anytime soon. And by the looks of him, he wasn't going to be. He appeared to be having to much fun dancing.

"Well," Gilbert started. "...I'm alright with calling you that. But we have bunny ears not cat ones. Yo Francis, do we have any cat ears?!" The frenchman stared at him over the bar, clearly confused before he shook his head. This was supposed to romantic, not retarded. Really, he didn't know what he was going to do with those two. Gilbert shook his head and poked a finger at the kid. "Look 'er. I haven't even tell that guy my real name and I've known him for a year. I am absolutely never going to say it." With that crossed his arms and huffed.

"Why should I care whether or not you tell me your real name?" Matthew asked. Sure, he wanted to know. But it was probably for the best that he didn't. If he didn't know his name, he couldn't get attached. Then he couldn't get hurt. That was definitely something he wanted to avoid. With that, he finished the drink in his hand.

"But my fake name isn't enough to get your real name and I want it!" Gilbert complained. He should get what he wanted, never mind if it was a fair exchange. He just wanted...exactly why did he want this kid's name? He didn't want to get close to him or get his hopes up, but the more he drank the more he had trouble following that logic. Gilbert flushed as he tried to remedy the situation. "I-it's not like I really want to know you or anything! I just like to know the names of my drinking buddies!" Or at least he hoped that's all this was.

"You won't tell me your real name. Then you don't get mine." Matthew stated. He wasn't going to say anything more on this matter. Besides, the other man was acting a bit childish. It was both endearing and annoying. A lot like Alfred was most of the time. "And having one drink with someone doesn't make you drinking buddies." He added. He didn't want to be just drinking buddies. But after the way this man had treated him the last few times they had a conversation, he couldn't even imagine them as friends. Much less as anything else.

Gilbert reached for another beer and continued drinking, though at this point, he wasn't paying it any attention. He drank with his attention fully on Mr. Don't Want To Share My Name. Gilbert wasn't budging on the issues either though. Maybe their could start of club of people who only wanted to use alias. For a second, he got distracted by the tantalizing idea. "Hm, but we're drinking buddies right now," he stated. "Maybe if you tell me why you won't say your name, I'll tell you why I won't tell you mine." Gilbert must have drunk more than he thought because normally he wouldn't even offer that much.

Matthew thought for a moment about what he was going to say. "My father always taught me to be careful around strangers. That includes being careful with what you say to them. That and I don't think it would be fair to tell you my name if you would tell me yours." He eventually told him. He got a new drink and sipped it, keeping his head forward but his eyes on the man.

"Oh." Gilbert paused for a second, somewhat baffled by what the other said. "That's a really normal reason. Lame." He took a few sips of his drink, much slower than he had been since they started the contest. This could almost be considered nursing the beer as he tried to collect himself. Oh what the heck. He already said he'd tell and Gilbert did like to keep his promises as long as he didn't forget them. "Thing is...I really hate my name," he said after a minute, never lifting his eyes away from his drink.

"Why do you hate your name?" Matthew asked, curious. Sure there were plenty of reasons for hating one's name. Like if it was really weird or hard to spell or something. He wanted to know what the other's reason would be. Would it be a normal reason or some strange reason he hadn't thought of yet. He turned his complete attention to the man, waiting for an answer.

Gilbert dropped his head onto the bar. He was so not drunk enough for this yet. What was up with this day throwing all this crap at him. He didn't want to think about stuff like this, let out utter it out loud. He knew the kid stared at him and it made Gilbert antsy and a little bit electrified. Without lifting his head, he muttered out an answer. "I hate who I'm named after."

"Who were you named after?" Matthew asked. He could tell that the other man probably didn't want to talk about it. But, he had made him curious. But, if he really didn't want to answer, he wasn't going to push him. That would just make him hate him even more and that was something he really didn't want.

Gilbert's face closed off. He shook his head and a second, he threw on a grin that couldn't have been anything but fake. "What the hell. Who cares? We're getting fucking drunk!" He shoved a beer into the kid's face whose name he still didn't know. His wild moments left him precariously balanced on his stool. Somehow steadying himself by getting one foot up on the seat, he waved his hand in the air. "Francis! Give me some fucking pretzels!!" Any sign of Gilbert's earlier distress got shoved deep under the rug.