Battle Geese

“Stupid geese, get out of hear!” Andrew yelled.

“Honk!” the goose replied before turning back to pecking at the ground. The rest of the flock looked up briefly, then took another step toward the golf green.

“I’m telling you Andrew, you want to stay away from geese. Dangerous creatures, them,” Harlan said.

“They’re interrupting the game, Harlan. I’ll chase them away with my club.”

“Don’t do it, Andrew. They’ll fight. And they’ll win.”

“They’re just geese, what can they do?”

Andrew looked in his bag, selecting the best club; his driver was the largest and most threatening. He gripped it in both hands, then started running for the geese, yelling a battle cry as he did.

The geese looked up at him as one. Three took off flying, but the rest spreading their wings and began hissing. They moved toward the madman, flapping their wings threateningly.

Andrew, met with resistance, was stunned. The geese kept moving toward him, hissing louder. There were at least twenty of them, and the three that had taken off were now landing behind him. Terrified, Andrew turned and ran back to his friend, throwing the driver in the bag.

“We have to get out of hear!” he said, throwing his bag over his shoulder and running toward the clubhouse.

Harlan rolled his eyes as the geese relaxed and returned to their pecking. He waited until the flock moved on, then finished the hole while Andrew cowered at the bar.


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