morgan's knee creaked as he bent over to tee up his ball, then it creaked again as he righted himself. he stared down the 9th fairway of the durny glenn golf club as the early morning wind misted his face. he glanced over at the 3 men standing behind him as he drew back his $250 over-sized clubhead, "waiting for me to fuck up are you boys" he thought to himself, "well not today baby...not today" morgan swung down in a long controlled arc that nailed the ball dead center with a satisfying "noook." all eyes followed the tiny white ball as it soared up and drifted hard to the right, nailing an elderly woman in a wheelchair square in the head. when the men finally reached the old woman, all hope was lost. morgan's caddy held up the small tool shovel in his golf bag, another "mulligan" sir? he asked timidly. yes jimmy, another "mulligan," just make damn sure this one is deeper than the last "mulligan," and meet us on the thirteenth hole. and here's 12 bucks, bring us a couple of cold ones.