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I know, I know — this is the third golf story I’ve posted in a row, not everyone cares about golf, I should be diversifying TFM’s Content™, blah blah blah. What you’re forgetting is that I don’t care. And, considering you clicked on this article, you clearly care at least a little. That gives me the upper hand in this situation, and yes — I graciously accept your unspoken, implied surrender. Enjoy the content, sheeple.
I actually really hope you didn’t enjoy that video; it’s quite sad. That innocent duck was just minding its own duck business, flying back over to the pond to frolic with its duck friends and maybe inseminate a duckess, when BLAMO he gets domed. He never even saw it coming, which is a good thing because unless Duck Shooter McGavin had some draw on that ball, the last thought that duckster would’ve had would’ve been, Well duck, I’m about to be killed by a ducking errant drive.
I bet you were too busy watching our duck amigo fall from the sky like the contents of a Dave Matthews Band tour bus septic tank (if you don’t catch that reference, click here — you won’t regret it) to even notice what happened to duck murderer’s ball.
Dude Sergioed it into the drink. Ducky’s revenge. Speaking of which, I’m pretty pissed that Sergio jokes have gone the way of our duck buddy. I sure did like them.
Image via Instagram/@todd_shannon