The Pan-Galactic Gargleblaster. The cocktail from Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy which says:

[T]he effect of a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster is like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick. The Gu ide also tells you on which planets the best Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters are mixed, how much you can expect to pay for one and what voluntary organizations exist to help you rehabilitate afterwards. The Guide even tells you how you can mix one yourself. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy sells rather better than the Encyclopedia Galactica.

• Take the juice from one bottle of that Ol' Janx Spirit.
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• Pour into it one measure of water from the seas of Santraginus V - Oh, that Santraginean sea water, it says. Oh those Santraginean fish!!!
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• Allow three cubes of Arcturan Mega-gin to melt into the mixture (it must be properly iced or the benzene is lost).
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• Allow four litres of Fallian marsh gas to bubble through it (in memory of all those happy Hikers who have died of pleasure in the Marshes of Fallia).
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• Over the back of a silver spoon float a measure of Qualactin Hypermint extract, redolent of all the heady odours of the dark Qualactin Zones; subtle, sweet, and mystic.
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• Drop in the tooth of an Algolian Suntiger. Watch it dissolve, spreading the fires of the Algolian suns deep into the heart of the drink.
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• Sprinkle Zamphour.
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• Add an olive.
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• Drink... but... very carefully...

Finagle's Folly: A cocktail which McCoy makes for Kirk on the 10,000th occasion that Kirk is depressed over losing control over his ship. (In this case, to a supercomputer in "The Ultimate Computer.") McCoy brags that his cocktail is famous "from here to Orion." But Kirk tastes it and grimaces. (Scotty probably would have liked it.) Oh, and apparently, Quark on Deep Space Nine makes a decent Finagle's Folly as well.

The Mother Teresa. In one of Spider Robinson's many Callahan's Crosstime Saloon novels, which all take place in a bar as you might imagine, he invents a type of martini called the Mother Teresa, because it has a prune resting in the bottom of the glass.

The Bull Shot. Larry Niven's version of Callahan's Crosstime Saloon is called the Draco Tavern, and the bartender sells all sorts of weird drinks (including "Green Kryptonite") to various alien visitors. One of the most popular drinks seems to be the Bull Shot, which Niven describes as "consomme and vodka." This is especially popular with the Glig, "grey and compact beings." (It's short for "Gligstith(click)optok.")

The Flaming Rum Monkey. Author Pat Murphy mentions the Flaming Rum Monkey in her metafictional odyssey Adventures In Time And Space With Max Meriwell, which features Murphy's pseudonym Mary Maxwell as a fictional character. Mary makes a habit of ordering a Flaming Rum Monkey to see what the bartenders will come up with, since they have to invent one on the spot. But in fact Murphy has come up with a recipe for a Flaming Rum Monkey, and here it is:

Put a teaspoon of brown sugar, a sprinkling of cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon, and a teaspoon of coconut syrup (the kind used in pina coladas) in a warm mug. Add a little boiling water—just enough to dissolve the sugar. Let the mixture steep for a minute. Pour in two ounces of dark Jamaican rum and one ounce of dark creme de cacao. Fill the mug with boiling water and stir.

Now for the flames! Put a pinch of brown sugar in a big spoon. Fill the spoon with 151 rum. To warm the rum, hold the spoon over the mug filled with hot water.

Light the rum in the spoon. Tip the spoon into the mug. The mixture in the mug will burn with a lovely blue flame.

Don't singe your eyebrows. Don't burn your tongue. Blow out the flames and try a sip of your Rum Monkey. Hot, sweet, and touched with coconut. Enjoy your Rum Monkey and dream of possibilities.

Star Wars Cocktail. Want to make one of those weird drinks they're drinking in the Cantina scene in the original Star Wars? This site claims to have an actual recipe — and it sounds like the most revolting drink imaginable. Equal parts Southern Comfort, Amaretto, Sweet'n'Sour mix, and Sprite... you might as well just smoke some crack and drink the entire contents of the Slurpee machine at the movie theater. Which might be just the ticket for enjoying Clone Wars, you never know.

The "foaming cocktail". Actually, we don't know the name of the drink Za orders in Iain M. Banks' The Player Of Games, but it's referred to as a "foaming cocktail." And here's what he actually orders:

I'd like a double standard measure of staol and chilled Shungusteriaung warp-wing liver wine bottoming a mouth of white Eflyre-Spin cruchen-spirit in a slush of medium cascalo, topped with roasted weirdberries and served in a number three strength Tipprawlic osmosis-bowl, or your best approximation thereof.

The baby jellyfish - small, pale blue, with cuboid bells and four clusters of tentacles trailing from each corner - slips down easily. Boris winces momentarily as the nematocysts let rip inside his mouth, but in a moment or so, the cubozoan slips down, and in the meantime, his biophysics model clips the extent of the damage to his stinger-ruptured oropharynx.

"Wow," he says, taking another slurp of sea wasp margaritas. "Don't try this at home, fleshboy."

Adrenalin and Soma. The favorite cocktail of cowardly thief Vila on British space opera Blake's 7. It sounds like a weird mixture of uppers and downers — like an Irish coffee — but it always seems to make Vila quite mellow.

There's an ancient prophecy about the Urn of Apollonia, which must be taken to the Temple of Vanity by Sheila E... or we're all doomed.
Score: Minus 10 points
Drinking game: Take at least three swigs of vodka, gin or Southern Comfort, and then attempt to give yourself a swirlie in the kitchen sink.

The hero is the chosen one, who's more special than anybody else ever.
Score: Minus 100 points.
Drinking game: Attempt to drink your own urine.

Characters share useful information with each other, instead of having wacky misunderstandings designed to move the plot forward. Bonus points if they ask each other smart questions.
Score: Plus 70 points.
Drinking game: Have a beer with a sake chaser.

The hero has a miraculous gadget (which may rhyme with ironic brew diver) allowing him to get out of literally any difficult situation with no hassle.
Score: Minus 10 points.
Drinking game: Make yourself a sonic screwdriver out of orange juice, vodka and ultrasonic vibrations. Drink the whole thing in one go.

The main characters are real people, with believable flaws and non over-the-top personal issues. Which they don't resolve in the course of an hour.
Score: Plus 20 points.
Drinking game: Have a shot of the good whiskey. You know, the 20-year-old single malt stuff.

Someone has a superpower that totally defies the laws of physics. Like shapeshifting, which allows him/her to go from being a tiny human to a buick-sized monster by pulling extra mass out of somewhere.
Score: Minus 5 points.
Drinking game: Pour a shot of tequila into your eyes and pretend you're melting into a shape-shifting puddle of goo, which can change its size and mass.

Aliens are genuinely alien, and don't resemble a race or nationality from Earth.
Score: Plus 20 points.
Drinking game: Mix every alcoholic beverage you've got into a bowl, and stick your head into it.

There's a space god, who wears a tunic or toga and talks all mythic, while warping reality.
Score: Minus 1,000 points.
Drinking game: Make a ceremonial libation to the space god, with some sangria, preferably an entire pitcher's worth. Drink the whole thing, while chanting, "What does God need with a starship?"

Events have real consequences, that aren't undone via "reset button" or silly trickery. Bonus points if characters get mortally injured and don't run around for 20 minutes afterwards.
Score: Plus 10 points.
Drinking game: Pour everclear on your hands and light them on fire.

Techno-babble and crazy jargon that makes no sense. Or, if you're reading a book, a description of how a spaceship works that goes on for more than two printed pages.
Score: Minus 5 points.
Drinking game: Hook your blender up to your microwave, using a multiphasic ion-shielding photon decoder. Make a daiquiri, and nuke it in the microwave. If there's anything left, drink it.

Can you suggest any more entries to make this the perfect get-drunk system, erm we mean evaluation tool?