In this dream, he was being carried by a friendly giant, carried to a beautiful land far away from the cold failures of Milwaukee. The giant looked down at him and smiled; at that moment, Khris felt a surge of happiness swell in his heart, the kind of perfect emotion that only could be felt in a dream state. On the horizon, a beautiful castle made of gleaming, pearly crystal rose out of the ground. That was their destination, and what treasures awaited them there, Khris did not know…
A cough woke him up. Opening his eyes blearily, he found that at least part of his dream was true; Miroslav Raduljica bore him in his arms. Slowly, details trickled in from the alcohol-addled recesses of Khris’ mind. He had been coerced by his teammates into taking part in “Milwaukee Miller Madness”. He had been tasked to drink a 12-pack of Miller and to construct a snowman. He had consumed some amount of the beer, thrown up, and passed out. After that, he had no more recollection.
“Yo, Miro, did I finish the snowman?” he asked in a somewhat slurred voice.
“Oh, you awake!” Miroslav exclaimed, making no move to put Khris back on the ground. “No, you not finish snowman. You not even drink all beers.”
Khris groaned. “I bet the guys think I’m a total wuss.”
“No, they not think that. It just fun game. Anyway, you not worry. I build two snowman – one for Miroslav, and one for my friend Khris.”
Miroslav said the last part in an offhand way, but Khris felt tears well up in his eyes. “You built my snowman?”
Khris body was jolted up and down as Miroslav shrugged. “And drink your beers. American beer has not effect on big Serb like me.”
Feeling overwhelmed by both the alcohol in his system and Miroslav’s display of friendship, Khris curled up into a ball. “You’re the best, Miro,” he mumbled before falling back into a slumber.