"Dude. Dude. How in the hell are you not puking?" Tucker was slurring a bit and eying Peter a bit too closely. It wasn't quite seeing two of him just yet, but it was on the threshold. "Asshole. Do you even feel drunk?" He knew the answer but he wanted to know.
At least until Peter pointed out the blonde again. Tucker tended to already have a short attention span when it came to pretty faces. It was worse when alcohol was involved.
"Pretty hot? Dude, she's totally bangable! I might have a thing for blondes." And brunettes, redheads, rainbow -- Tucker wasn't picky. Not in the least.