The Feud Begins
Jornk stood, glowering, looking at the schedule. His tee time tomorrow was at 9:35 in the morning, far too early a time for a man who intended to drink 17 fuzzy navels that night. Not only that but his playing partner was some up jumped rookie he'd never even heard of before. What a pain... "Mr. Flunch?' came the voice from behind him. Jornk spun and with distaste, observed a clean cut young man. He had an immaculately freshly shaven face, with a manicured head of hair and all white pants and shirt. "Yeah?" snapped Jornk. "I'm your playing partner tomorrow sir, my name is Lagolin!" Jornk frowned at the proffered hand, before eventually taking it with the same amount of distaste he would take a document from a process server. "Alright," Jornk said, turned on his heel, and headed back to his hotel room. The fuzzy navels could wait. The kid would need to learn a lesson. *** The morning rolled around earlier than Jornk could fathom. He was on...