Outlaw Golf

Commentator:
[describing Summer] Hailing from the Big Apple, where she splits her time between PHD studies in molecular biology at Columbia University and entertaining foreign businessmen in the champagne room at the Pink Flamingo, please welcome sultry Summer and her equally ample caddy, Autumn. Remember, gentlemen, after the game these ladies will be available for autographs and lapdances. Bring plenty of bling.

Commentator:
[describing Ice Trey] Wannabe rapper Ice Trey dropped out of school to pursue his dream of rapping and playing golf. A decision that was about as promising as his single digit SAT scores.

Commentator:
Wow! That ball was practically hit into the next country! Watch out Toronto!

Commentator:
Now there's a slice, and I'm not talking apple pie!

Commentator:
Now there is a perfectly sliced shot. And by perfect, I mean it sucked.

Commentator:
If that ball had hooked any further, it would be coming back at us. Whoa! I thought it was!

Commentator:
To put for the victory! Oh, okay. It's just a par, but sometimes I get a little carried away.

Commentator:
To make an eagle. Just kidding. Par.

Commentator:
Just to keep the gallery from laughing their asses off.

Commentator:
It's times like this when you wish golf balls had brakes. That sucker is past the cup.

Commentator:
6th shot. Not that anybody's counting. Well actually, we are.

Summer:
Break out your singles, boys. Because I have a low score.

El Suave:
You may take my picture now and now and now.

Ice Trey:
[rapping] Golf's my b*tch! Golf's my b*tch! Golf's my b*tch!

El Suave:
Thank you. Thank you. Although I care very little for you.

El Suave:
Chu know, when I reach an eighteenth hole, I like to sit and back and reflect on the last seventeen holes from once I already came. But I don't reflect too much, for I have yet one more hole to play. So I quit the thinking and then I start to focus. Hey, I can see my house from here!

Killer Miller:
Par is short for parole.

Scrummy O'Doole:
Me mom always said that the short holes like this one are the hardest on the course. Well, let me tell you something. Me mom is stupid! It's only a 193 yard Par 3 for Christ sake. Shut up, Mom!

Commentator:
I don't know about anybody else, but I can sure feel the rage in the air. What a beautiful day!

Commentator:
As long as there is no internal bleeding, that caddy will be just fine.

Commentator:
I guess cans of whoop-ass were on sale today.

Commentator:
This is an official announcement. Player one has weenied out and taken a mulligan.

Killer Miller:
[after scoring an eagle] Yeah! This is better than bail!

Scrummy O'Doole:
This 574 yard par 5 is so bloody long, I bet I can pull off a song before it ends. [singing] I drink myself under a table. I drink myself under a rock. I drink until I pass out. Or maybe I'll go into shock. I drink myself under a doldream. Or maybe a barroom stool. I drink until I fall down. Into a vomity pool. Cheers!

El Suave:
[after scoring a bogey] I have brought shame on my family.

El Suave:
[after selecting his character] You have chosen greatness!

Commentator:
Just like my girlfriend, this green is fast.

Commentator:
Well, it's pretty clear that this player cannot sink any lower than this. Until his wife leaves him. Then he becomes an alcoholic.

Commentator:
Whoa! A tree on a golf course! Who would've thought?

Commentator:
He's hitting out of some real tall grass. Watch out for ticks!

Connor:
[staring at Trixie] I'd like to hit my ball onto her fairway.

Summer:
Oh, you're too kind. I feel like I'm back at the porn awards.

Autumn:
[after Summer shoots par] Yeah! She's a regular par slut!

Trixie:
This is a 374 yard Par 4. Agh! Which reminds me that I forgot to pick up my dry cleaning. Damn it, why do I always do this? I suppose that if it wasn't so out of the way, I could've just stopped there on the way home, but I have to make a left at the street and it's such a pain in the butt. Oh, there's the hole.

Mistress Suki:
It pains me to feel joy.

Scrummy O'Doole:
If you've got a weak heart, than this 554 yard Par 5 will bloody kill ya. It'll rip your lungs out, stomp on your kidneys, tear out your larynx, crush your pelvis, gouge out your eyeballs, chew up your liver, shred your grey matter and pulverize your prostate, macerate your lungs, shot in your kneecap, drain your adenoids, eviscerate your intestines, gut your bladder, squash your scrotum and all your ventricles, grind your adrenal gland, disembowel your stomach! I just love this freaking hole!

Commentator:
Hubba hubba! That ball had some serious legs on it!

El Suave:
Chu know, when chu play golf, it's not just about the numbers. You must take time and soak in your surroundings. Like the green grass. And the architecture. And the blue sky. And the bugs. And the trees. And the air. Mother Nature at work. Yes, I like Mother Nature. Let's hope she has a sister for El Suave.

Commentator:
Wow! That was a heck of a beating! Too bad there's no such thing as caddy insurance!

Ice Trey:
Okay, you see that big building back there? My ex, Kenisha, works there. So do me a favor. Grab a driver and aim for the ninth floor. Forget this Par 4 and do me this solid, alright?

Ice Trey:
That water on the left ain't no public pool. So don't even think about swimming in it. There's lots of stinky slimy things in there. So keep it to the right. Oh, and if your caddy's thirsty, don't let him go drinking from it, even if they are from Mexico. Fresh Fruit had his stomach pumped. Twice. Brother can keep score, but he's a dumbass.

Scrummy O'Doole:
This hole starts off innocently enough. It's a nice straight shot down the fairway. You feel good about yourself playing it safe down the middle. Then "Holy Crap!" It's the freakin Grand Canyon! Talk about a ball-buster. Who dreamed up this bloody 530 yard Par 5 nightmare of a hole? Then when you thought it couldn't get worse, you get kicked right in the privates with a sheer drop down to a wee little green that you can barely piss on! This hole will make a man out of ya, even if you're a lassie.

Autumn:
[after Summer goes over par] Want a hot-oil massage?

Summer:
Ew! [walks away]

Autumn:
Pedicure?