Dipper and Pacifica Get Drunk

>8 PM
>Drink 1
"Just try this," Pacifica sighed, her voice slipping back into a disaffected aloofness. The party was in full swing three floors above them, but Pacifica, still heady from her rebellious act, had slipped away with Dipper into one of the many basements below the Northwest Manor. "It's a 1977 Henri Jayer Richebourg Grand Cru,  a pinot noir grown in a high altitude in the south of France..." Pacifica stopped as her explanation was met with a dumbfounded silence and the thick "glop glup glop" ing of red liquid into a glass. She smiled and rolled her eyes as she filled her own glass. "It's crazy expensive and my parents wil freak out knowing anyone below a czar touched it."
Dipper smirked. "OK, see, now THAT I get," he replied, gently tinking the rim of his glass to Pacifica's.
Dipper sniffed the drink. He took a sip, hoping it would taste better than it smelled. It didn't. "You're not supposed to just poke at it," Pacifica scoffed, before draining her glass in a single gulp. " She sauntered over to the bottle and poured herself another glass before swishing it around as she stood, transfixed by the dark green translucent vessels on the shelf. "You swallow hard at first. Then everything else gets easier..."
Dipper looked at his wine and, inhaling sharply, drained the glass.

>12:30 AM
>Drink 13
"Try thish," Pacifica slurred, pouring a bottle into Dipper's glass. Well, attempting to, anyway: she poured a steady stream onto Dipper's pale stomach for two seconds before righting herself, a stream of amber trickling down his sloshy muffintop and onto his pants.
"Oopsie-doo!" Pacifica giggled, before breaking into a sputtering chuckle and burying her face in Dipper's chest. Dipper simply blinked blearily and grinned dumbly, enjoying the sensation of Pacifica's stomach pressed against his.
"Thishis..." Pacifica muttered, attempting to compose herself. "Thish is a... white wine... it goes with chicken... and stuff..." Pacifica blinked and held her glass unsteadily before her, her eyes going wide as she tried to force the two swirling images into one.
"Cheersh!" She burbled suddenly, thrusting her glass out so hard she fell onto her rear. "Cheersh!" Dipper half-shouted, forgetting the idea of secrecy as he thrust his glass against Pacifica's, shattering the two and sending wine spraying everywhere. Pacifica and Dipper simply stared, teetering, when suddenly, Dipper's bloated belly finally proved too much for his borrowed pants, and popped a button, which shot through the sky like a bullet before finally finding a bottle on the shelf, plunging the cork inside and allowing a thick river of dark red wine to flow onto Pacifica's head. With a dull giggle at first, the two bloated lushes soon found themselves overcome with laughter.

>3 AM
>Bottle ??
Dipper let out an airy burp as he surveyed his kingdom. An endless (to his booze-addled mind) amount of bottles were strewn about, forming a castle around him. His queen lay snoozing on his sloshy balloon of  belly, Dipper's discarded pants draped over her like a cape, their stomachs pressed together into a hypnotic, wobbling form that endlessly oozed as they breathed.
Tilting his bottle for one more sip, Dipper was finally overcome, and his hand went limp as the bottle rolled down his doughy chest, gently thumping Pacifica's head. The two snored on into the night, dreaming of a kingdom of booze, where they were free to simply drink and bloat.