Golf Course – The Harvard Lampoon

By Any Means Necessary #

| Issue Editor: ACW '15 | Art Editor: SESH '16

Golf Course

RJS '17 , Art: ECM '15


-You’ll have to restart this hole, sir.

-But I saw my ball roll into those trees. You can just go get it.

-No caddy goes in there. That’s Fairway Fred’s territory.

-Who’s Fairway Fred?

-The vagrant beast who bedevils this place.

-Beast? How long has a wild animal been living here?

-Some say since this land was all wild uncharted golf course.

-I’ll just get it myself.

-Wait! If you go, you’ll be impaled by one of the poison plastic needle-spines he sheds on the ground.

-What, like syringes?

-I see his glamours have already fooled you.

-I’ll be very caref—my God, what was that noise?

-He’s awake. That’s the sound of his footsteps, loud as gunfire.

-I think it was just gunfire.

-He sounds angrier than usual. Your golf ball must have displeased him.

-He sounds dangerous.

-Since you insist on going, at least take this six-iron with you.

-Uh, alright… I didn’t realize he was corporeal.

-Oh, definitely. And strong.

-I can just restart the hole.

-It’s too late for that. This is your destiny.

-But just a minute ago you said—

You’re the one the prophecy spoke of.

-But I’m just a business consultant.

-Yes, just as the oracle predicted. Where many have fallen, you will succeed.

-How many?

-So many.