We used to drop (literally) Bryce on his own front lawn before midnight on a typical Friday night, passed out and covered in his own puke. His dad used to get similarly dropped off after getting cut off at the Old Cutler Inn. I'm amazed either of them still have a liver.
Dave Scott's job ... well, one of them at least, .... was to make sure the vodka, glasses, and ice bucket were set up in Dennis' hotel room on road trips for when he arrived.
That was one serious alchy family.
Of course, Dennis getting his weekly ******* on wednesday nights in the parking lot of the logggerhead is another story altogether.