God, this guy is like the human version of fly paper, because he thinks he's trying pretty hard and he still can't get his hand free even no matter what he tries. At this point John's just trying to 1). keep upright 2). make sure he's not going to get sick and 3). maintain that buzz 'cause he worked damn hard for it and pretty soon he's gonna have to piss like a racehorse with all that alien booze in his system. John staggers and nearly ends up on the floor as he miscalculates where John 2 is, catching himself on the wall and oh wow, that isn't helping him right now. The ground and wall tilt like he's on the deck of a ship.

"Yeah," John repeats. "Yeah. You're right. Look, I, uh, I just wanna get back to my room. I think it's that way."

He waves vaguely. Right now he's thinking things are good, or at least he can't really feel that pressure in his head and that's already better than he'd been hours before, so it's as close to good as he can get. If he's hallucinating Scorpy again, he's too hammered to give a crap and that's exactly how he likes it, John flashing John 2 there a sheepish grin as key details like his exact room number blip out on him.