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Tuesday 200 - #26

We’re on the dogleg at Sheesacooquin Greens. Daddy says it’s his lucky hole.

"Seems like your lucky hole is Charmaine," my sister mutters and wipes the drizzle from her forehead.

Remember Charmaine? Wife #3, Preference #9 1/2? Semi-pro bowler? Won Lotto after she'd conned Daddy into marrying her? She’s having a pee behind the trees.

“Be right there,” she squeals. “Go on play.” A monster umbrella appears with Char’s bank’s logo on it.

“Put that down, Char,” Daddy tells her. “Right about here’s where Snuffy snuffed it during the storm of 98.”

"Oh please, lightening never strikes twi …" KER-RACK!

You know in cartoons when things get electrocuted? You see skeletons and hair frizzing out?

That ain’t what happens to Charmaine.

She just sorta flashes and explodes. Ain’t pretty. Then again, she wasn’t much to start with. About 6 feet away from the sizzling heap of Charred Char, there’s this egg-shaped marble.

Daddy picks it up and wipes it on his shirt. "Did ya know Charmaine had a glass eye? Always freaked me out.”

He sticks a tee in the ground and sets the eye on it. “Here's looking at ya,” he says, blasting it into the lake.


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