As you walk up the steps to go into the party, a towering figure appears from the shadows to block your path. From inside its impenetrable aluminum helmet, a voice booms “Halt!” Startled, you stumble backward, dropping the measly six-pack of White Claw you brought with you.

A massive foot crushes the sixer in one stomp, and the next thing you know a gleaming blue sword is leveled directly at your throat. You don’t stand a chance. This is the Final Boss of Beer, and you’re not even close to a high enough level to defeat him. Why did you have to bring a seltzer?

The last thing you hear, echoing through your skull, is this hulking knight bellowing a battle cry: “It’s Modelo time, fool!”