the king intoxicated

Not unless my brave estimations fail me for the nth time (my numerical faculty is insecure, remember?), you are a sweet sixteen going on seventeen: so young, so vibrant, so much in the prime of your life. The cosmos at large teems with many awesome fields for your boldly driven curiosity to explore, experiment on, discover. You jot these down: girls, fads hard drinks…
Amazingly, I was not in the least shocked upon learning from my good friend Claudette that you along with your equally daring chums were in PNR Site emptying bottles of Red Horse beers (or Colt 45, I wasn’t sure), their contents washing your unbaptized stomachs. It was not that I did not care for you, I always did and still do, but it would appear irrational to find myself nagging you unstoppably while sending you and your companions home. That so, Claudette and I nonchalantly whiled our time away in Old Market chatting to people crossing our lane, until we happened to see your unusual self skulking in the dark Ladies Dorm # 6 Alley. The Lantern King—all but drunk, drowsy, queer behaving, no control of both his words and his deeds.
Look: I reserve to your dear parents the right to sermonize you for taking in more than your bodily system can tolerate. I hate being an antagonist to people whom I am concerned about, but face the truth: you have gotten nauseated in so small an amount. Reason: weak resilience.
Secondly, I am not a puritan to advocate a liquor ban on anyone’s esophagus, much more on yours especially because you discard your own money. I confess that once (and only once) I tried downing loads of Tanduay with my fellow bothered friends; afterwards, I felt guilty doing so because of the forgettable embarrassment that ensued. Picture this: a first-timer throwing up insides. I hope you won’t get as excessively dizzy as I did then.
Lastly, do not use your youth as an excuse: you are old enough to delineate the right from the wrong. You could have decided to stay at the dorm attending to more productive activities such as washing dirty clothes or reviewing in advance, you gave in to occasional hedonism. Drinking is neither you’re vice, cup tea nor priority, you might rebut: you drank anyway.
Act under your own discretion. You are in complete hold of your life.