A young lad had a dream to be the greatest caddie that had ever seen. So he said fare thee well to his mother, donned his loafers, board shorts, polo shirt, and cap, heading for the local golf club. He started out as a trainee, quickly moving through the ranks to Evans Scholar. Then tragedy struck. While he was out one day as a gentleman's forecaddie, he was struck in the head with a golf ball, the gentleman not being bothered to shout "FORE!" From that day forward he was never right in the head. He kept the golf ball to spite the gentleman (a golf ball being rather costly) and ran off into the woods, never to be seen again. He still haints places where golfballs can be found, and sometimes, just sometimes, more golfballs mysteriously appear.
FTF goes to bearmoon1!