The adventure of a golf boy revised | Teen Ink

The adventure of a golf boy revised

April 4, 2010
By daneshzg GOLD, West Vancouver, Other
daneshzg GOLD, West Vancouver, Other
11 articles 0 photos 39 comments

One day a little, round, dimpled boy wandered onto a field of green in the middle of a forest. For a better view he stood up on a wood pole with a little round top, just big enough to hold him. Suddenly, he felt a terrible whack on his bottom. He went flying through the air.

He passed over a pond catching a glimpse of a few other dimpled beings on the bottom. Shivering in horror he hit the ground and rolled to a stop beside a little dimpled girl. Before He was about to say hi, when KRUMP! something whacked her on her bottom and she disappeared into the sky.

He barely had time to catch his breath when he got hit again! Not as hard this time. He felt himself spinning backwards as he flew in a big arc through the air. Once landed, he bounced backwards. His heart froze as he saw the giant with a huge club who had been hitting him.

Gathering all his courage the little, round, dimpled boy yelled, "what did I do to make you hit me all the time?" The giant didn't answer. Instead, he poked the boy in the back with a smaller stick and sent him tumbling into a deep dark hole. The boy thought, "I can hide here..." but, no sooner did he think than a giant hand scooped him up into the light.

A moment later, he was propped on the wooden pole again, quickly the little, round, dimpled boy came up with a plan. He leaned to the left with all his might as the club struck his bottom. He flew right into some bushes. No luck, the giant grabbed him again! Poor little fellow, he was clouted at least 70 times! He glimpsed a sign, 18 Par 3.... He sensed this was his last chance to escape the horrible beating.

Wham! The little dimpled fellow sliced through the air to freedom over some trees and deep into the forest. .

The end
Oops, not quite...

The little, round, dimpled boy lived in the wilds of the rough world for nearly two days, but his fear of being beaten up couldn't keep him from being homesick for his zippered pocket ...home....

As a tear formed in one of his dimples he felt a giant hand scoop him up, "Aha," boomed its voice..." Bit of luck, eh?" And with a sigh, he felt himself tumbling down into the soft darkness of a pocket!

The end (really!)

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.