If you do, you will be bitterly disappointed. There will be no beer to brew. There will be no beer to drink. It will be hot. You will get bitten by mosquitoes.
You will drive home sobbing. It will be hard to see the road through your tears. You will swerve to narrowly miss hitting a pedestrian. Instead of a person, you will hit a mailbox. The owner of the mailbox will come out of his house in boxer shorts and a wife beater. He will be yelling at you. He will be fat. He will make you cry even more. He will smell like sweat, vinyl, and cigarettes. You will walk home. You will have no more tears to cry because of dehydration. You will stop at a gas station to get a Powerade. But their refrigerators will not be working. You will buy a lottery ticket instead of a Powerade. And you will lose.
It will be the worst night of your life.