SHUT UP. We didn't have any soda, OK?
Before I knew it, the Aristocrat was gone, I was only somewhat buzzed, and Wes was fucking TORE DOWN. I don't know if his tolerance was so much less than mine, or if he'd drunk so much more than me, but I was getting a little pissed at him because he was having such a good time and I didn't have anything more to drink. Well, the next thing you know, Wes had taken a turn for the worse and was stumbling for the front door. I knew he must have been puking, but I didn't have any particular desire to watch see him ralph, so I stayed where I was.
Next thing I heard (after a minute or so of BWARRRRRGH FLORGHHHHHHHH) was "NOOOO, MOM, it was just a SCARY MOVIE!!! We were watching a SHHCARY MOVIE!!! It was so GROSSSH that it made me SICK!"
I started moving toward the front door, and BAM, I'm met by an angry Sue Snow, whose head was a full two feet tall. I swear, that woman's head got SO FUCKING BIG. She pushed past me and went into the living room to see what horrible violence we were watching. And what did she see onscreen but CHEECH AND CHONG . . .
By the time I even started processing the scene in front of me, Sue had dragged Wes's ass into the Oldsmobile. He told me later that he'd insisted he wasn't drunk, whereupon she took him to the police station for a breathalyzer test, when he puked into the machine. (Later I received information that suggested that some or all of the PD story wasn't true.) Wes got in pretty bad trouble for that, as it was the first time his parents got any clue that he drank. Somehow, however, I was able to get off pretty easily--I told Mom that we started experimenting with the peach schnapps in the liquor cabinet, and it had just hit him really hard.