But the ball wasn’t the only thing that was skulled. On the white tee box, the head of one of the geese exploded in a sickening SPLAT! sending feathers, blood & guts in all directions. The headless goose did the Texas two-step on the teebox as if looking for its noggin while its partner looked on in horror. “HONK?”

The foursome back at the blue tees was speechless until Chester broke the silence.

“I’d say you skulled that one, Skully.” It was inadvertent. It was brilliant. It was adhesive.

“Skully…. That’s perfect!” chuckled Fred.

“Skully,” Al tried it on for size. “Skully, Skully, Skully,” he repeated, liking the fit.

The headless goose collapsed and died.

Skully stood dumbstruck with the three iron propping him up. The living goose came around from the shock of seeing its mate beheaded and began honking angrily.

Next thing you know it was running toward him, honking away, wings flapping, taking dead aim at Skully like a guided missile.

Skully just stood there staring at the dead goose.

“SKULLY!!” Banes yelled.

“HONK!!” the angry goose cried, now airborne.

Skully bowed his head in shame, or prayer, or maybe just resignation as the goose opened its beak and excavated a patch of scalp, leaving a gaping bloody V-shaped chevron that would follow Skully around for the rest of his life. And taking a prized possession in the process. His ’86 Masters hat. Signed by Nicklaus.

“MY HAT!!” Skully screamed in vain as the goose ascended over the Potomac, as good as in Canada. “COME BACK HERE WITH MY LUCKY HAT!!” Skully shook his fist at the migrating bird.

“An eye for an eye,” Fred observed.

“A hat for a head.” Ray concluded. “Banes, you’re up.”

“You know what they say,” Banes added, teeing it up. “What goose around, comes around.”

Collective moans filled the air as Banes teed off, skying a 5-wood into the bunker.

The boys finished up the last two holes double/double dropping to three under and out of the running for any prize money. They returned to the scene of the crime after the round to bury the headless goose, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Must have wandered off,” Banes suggested.

Skully fashioned a cross out of a long tee and a shorter one and inserted it into the Riverbank off 17. Banes hummed “Oh Canada.”