Sure, I like to sneak a little booze into things from time to time—eggnog, coffee, tea, juice, cold medicine—but I’ve never just hauled off and dumped a whole bottle of booze on top of foodstuffs. He’s pouring rum on that cake like Nixon put ketchup on steak. If that’s not a sign of a serious alcohol problem, I don’t know what is.
This has put Helga into a serious funk, clearly. Looks like she needs to join Charlie Brown at his depression wall.