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Deciding on the liquor had been, if you asked Mabel, the most difficult part of the entire fiasco. While she would drink anything, her companions were both incredibly picky about what they wanted to drink and it wasn't the same sort of picky between them. This was why she tended to drink with Theo instead: At least he wasn't going to ramble off on what made a bottle of wine a true piece of art. He was going to sign her a few playfully sarcastic comments and down the glass just as she did. But Theo wasn't the friend she was with at the moment so she had had to deal with Oliver and Charles sniping at each other until she finally reminded them that they could both drink something different, she'd be more than happy to mooch off both of them, and she'd like to get started before she was older than they were.
What she hadn't counted on was that everything had been stressful and it was a rare time when they weren't in any danger at the moment. In other words: They were plastered. She giggled over Oliver's latest story, even if she was drunk she didn't believe a word of it, and found herself leaned against Charles. The man in question looked surprised for a slight moment when she did so before moving slightly to make it more comfortable for both of them.
"We should have gotten more snacks," she murmured.
"There's dip," Oliver offered, holding it up.
"I'd rather be too drunk," she answered, ignoring the dramatic look he gave her in return. Charles just looked at Oliver.
"More for you," he mumbled and Oliver was appeased for the moment, taking them up on that. "We're too old for this."
"Mabel's not."
"Mabel is," she argued. Being past 30 was far too old to go on a 'Yay, we're alive and so is everyone else for the moment' bender. She just also didn't particularly feel guilty about it either. She was glad that Loretta was away for the moment due to the embarrassment factor. She reached over to take her glass, sipping a bit more of it down before grunting as Oliver threw himself onto the couch next to them.
"We're going to need to find a new activity. This isn't good for Charles at his age," Oliver informed her, his words slurring. She gave him a look that reminded him he was also old, but didn't do much beyond that, choosing to ignore the problem.
"You're the same age!" Charles protested.
"I'm really not," Oliver answered.
"We'll all regret it tomorrow," she said. "But it's not tomorrow so shut up and have another glass."
Neither of them argued with her as she knew they wouldn't. She was right. They'd all regret it tomorrow. But for now, she just wanted to lie around, finish off the bottles they had, and enjoy the evening with her two favorite olds.