Oh, lighten up, Clancy. She’s lit up like the Woolworth Building on New Year’s Eve, and she’ll probably have her ankles wrapped around a chandelier after another glass. And you’re worried about a headache, when you should be evaluating the chances of contracting syphillis. Anyway, you know what’s going to happen tomorrow. Your mouth will taste like something scraped from a horse’s hoof, your head will feel like a large poisoned balloon filled with rusty metal shavings; invisible elves will be driving dull chisels into your temples; your guts will roil and bark, and there’s a fighting chance you will disgorge a torrent of dark offal from one or more of the popular orifices. On the other hand, you’re in bed, not in jail.
So take some Alka-Seltzer, now in the extra-noisy variety to really punish you while you wait for the tablets to dissolve. Look at it! Pins shoot from the glass! It'll hurt, but you earned it. And don't try pouring it over Little Clancy. It doesn't work for that.