[Sanji can't answer right away. He's busy battling the bleed. Some good, ol' mind-over-matter mental chanting later, he manages to hold his breath and pressure the shit out of his nose long enough to stem the flow. His answer, when it finally does come, is delivered from behind a wet rag.]

That's more Usopp's shtick. My symptoms will clear right up as soon as I deliver our leftovers to a few ladies in residence and can finally erase every shitty word you've said today from my poor, overworked brain.