Title: Dwiib Golf Status: Complete Characters: Anon, Lucy/Fang, Ripley, Samantha Rating: SFW Classification: One-Shot Author: Anonymous Summary: Anon plays golf with Ripley, while Lucy makes fun of him for being so bad at it. "Come on, dweeb, we don't have all day!" Surprised by Lucy's shout, I miss the ball again. So much for concentrating. "Sweetie, don't rush Anon like that," her mom chimes in. "Let him take his time if he needs it." "He'll lose anyway, why prolong the suffering?" Lucy replies. "Hey!" I shout back. It's not my fault that Wii Golf is much easier than this shit. "I mean, woo-hoo! You totally got this, Anon!" Somehow, the ptero's cheer sounds somewhat sincere, but her mocking smirk ruins the illusion. Truth be told, I am losing. Lucy's dad decided to hold nothing back, and he's currently leading by twenty strokes, give or take. I'm sure I can still catch up to him if I try hard enough, though. It's only the third hole, after all. I take a deep breath, and align the club again. For a brief moment nothing in the world matters more for me than finally hitting this forsaken ball with this piece of shit club. Channeling all the built up frustration, I swing the club with enough force to cause a loud swish. My eyes widen in surprise at the sight of the ball lifting from the ground... Only to land not even a meter away. Fucking sand. "That's nine," Ripley says as he makes another tally mark on the score sheet. At this rate he might need another one soon. "At least it's closer to the hole now," Lucy chuckles. "I told you, you got this." I can't help but smile at my wife's sarcastic cheering. I may be getting my ass kicked, but it's nice to finally have an opportunity to spend some time with her family - with my family, I correct myself in my thoughts. It takes some getting used to the fact that the man who was once making thinly veiled death threats towards me is now my father-in-law. If he invited me to play golf with him back when I was in high school, I would have probably fled to another state. Anyway, we're all having fun, and this is all that matters. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I'm not having fun at all. Hole 8 turned out to be a fucking nightmare for a noob like me. I had already been losing before, but I almost doubled my total points on this one. Wind has decided to fuck me over, and every single of my hits here sent the ball directly into the bunker. Who the fuck put so many of those here anyway? I thought golf was meant to be played on grass. "Have you tried not aiming at the bunker?" Lucy asks with an exaggerated yawn. "I have, thanks for the advice." I reply, trying to find the best angle for my next stroke. "Well, it's not working," the ptero points out. "Yes, I can see that," I assure her with a tired look. "If you say so," she concludes, reclining in the golf car's seat. With the pace we're moving towards the hole, the car is pretty much a glorified chair, and Lucy spends most of the time in it. Can't say I wouldn't too, but someone has to hit the damn ball. Three whiffs later I finally manage to do so. A short, triumphant laugh escapes my mouth as the ball leaves the bunker, even if barely. That was the last one on the way to this hole, so I shouldn't have much problem in finishing it quickly. "Well done, Anon," Samantha says when I get to the golf car to change the club. It's a mystery how she maintains this level of enthusiasm for hours. Lucy, on the other hand, only gives me a thumbs up without even looking up from her phone. She's gonna need to put it away soon, because I'm about to send this ball flying all the way to the hole. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "This is bullshit," I groan in frustration. "Please tell me you're doing that on purpose," Lucy says as she bursts out laughing again. The problem is, I'm not. Despite arriving at the putting field in only one stroke more than my opponent, I'm hopelessly unable to finish hole 12, like it decided to never let my ball in. No matter the angle or the amount of force I use, I miss every single time. Even when it looks like the ball is going to fall into the hole, it only slides along the edge and rolls off to the side. "Why would I?" I ask rhetorically. "I'm only further fucking up my score." "You still think you can win?" She's now laughing so much she almost drops the flagpole. "Dad, what's the total score again?" "67 to..." Ripley takes a moment to count the unholy amount of tally marks for this hole. "...326." Damn, I'm pretty sure I started this one under three hundred. "It's not over till it's over," I state, earning a nod from Lucy's dad. I'd say it's meant to show approval, if not for the corner of his mouth rising significantly. Mockery runs in their blood, it seems. "Just make sure it's over before night, or I'm dragging you home straight off the field," the youngest ptero declares. "Wanna bet we're gonna finish before sunset?" I ask before thinking it over. "Bet? Like what?" She's still grinning, but her cocked head tells me she's also intrigued now. What indeed? It was just an offhand remark, a rhetorical question, but maybe we could make the game more interesting that way? "If I lose, I'm gonna buy a shitload of dino nuggies on the way home." This should both interest her, and not hurt me too much should I turn out to be a failure. "Lose the bet, I mean, not the game," I clarify quickly. "Obviously," Lucy chuckles once more. "And if you win? The bet, of course." "Then we'll repeat this sometime, but you will be the one playing against your dad, while I sit back and watch." "Deal," her decision comes almost instantly. "Easiest bet of my life." "We'll see, sweet tooth," I say as I prepare for my next stroke. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Fuuuuck!" I cry out at the sight of the ball flying off the course for the third time in a row. We've already ran out of spares, so finding it is the only way to continue without going back to get more. And if we did that, I'm definitely going to lose the bet. "Raptor Jesus, can't you hit it lighter?" Lucy says, following the ball's trajectory as well. "I'm just trying to save some time," I explain, doing my best not to sound too desperate. "Yeah, it's working great," she replies, her voice thick with sarcasm. Maybe she's right. We lost a lot of time when we were looking for the ball previously, and the sun is now dangerously close to the horizon. If I took it easy and approached the hole with many short strokes, I'd probably win the bet with ease, since it's hole 17 already. Now, I'm not so sure anymore. "Come on, be more serious," I say as I get in the golf car. "My honor is at stake here." "You lost the remains of your honor ten holes ago," Lucy smirks. "Nothin' but nugs on the line now." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ By the time we get to hole 18, the sun has almost set. As it gets dark, it becomes difficult for me to see the course clearly, so hitting bunkers and losing even more time is inevitable. With only a thin slice of the sun remaining visible, I prepare for what's most likely the last stroke of the game. "Shit, if you pull that off, I'm gonna lay off nuggies for a year," Lucy says with no sign of believing in me. "Deal, but let me focus." I'm still well outside the putting field, and I can barely see Ripley's and Samantha's silhouettes. The fact they removed the flagpole and are standing so far from the hole shows they have too much confidence in my skills, unlike their daughter. Still, I'm not giving up now that I'm so close. Releasing a deep breath, I launch the ball into the air with a powerful swing. The direction seems to be perfect, and the wind is dead silent, so it's all looking better than I expected. The question is whether I put the right amount of force into the stroke. It's impossible to tell from here though, as the ball disappears in the darkness soon after taking off. "You think I did it?" I ask Lucy with excitement. "Nah, no way," she replies, but there's a hint of hesitation in her voice. "I think I did it," I say more to myself than to her. "Well, let's get there and see," she decides and hops into the golf car. The sun sets completely before we do, so another stroke is off the table. But maybe it's not even needed... "It is, don't fool yourself," Lucy says out of nowhere. Fucking mumbling. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I'm absolutely speechless. I only halfheartedly expected to hit, but when we got the the putting field... The ball was right next to the hole, looking like it was a faintest gust of wind away of falling in. If there was time for one more stroke, even I couldn't have possibly fucked that up. Lucy seems to realize this as well, judging from her surprised expression which gradually becomes more smug. "Well, well, would you look at that," she says, reveling in her victory. "I can't believe I was this close and still lost," I shake my head in disbelief. "Right, about that..." Ripley chimes in and clears his throat. "Total score is 102 to 453. 454 if you had the time for the last one." "Hardly unexpected," I smile and shake his hand. "Good game." "Good game, Anon," he replies as he nearly crushes my fingers. "If you ever want to practice some more, just give me a call. I hope one day we can play a full game like that and fight more toe-to-toe." If I practice every day for like a decade, sure. "Thanks, but I don't think I can get on this level soon." "Or ever," Lucy adds. "Anyway," I continue, ignoring the remark of my opponent's daughter. "Thank you for the invitation, I've had a great time." I really did, despite showcasing my laughably poor skill at golf. Then again, it was never about the game itself, but about spending some time together. Shame Naser couldn't make it, but it's still pretty rare to get even the four of us to meet. After thanking Lucy's parents again and saying goodbye to them, we head to the parking lot, get in our car, and drive off. As nice as it all was, I can't wait to get home and spend the rest of the weekend just with my wife. "Aren't you forgetting about something?" Lucy asks on the way. I sigh, before parking at a nearby supermarket. Just with my wife, and her pile of nuggies.