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A fellow comes home after golf one Sunday afternoon, falls asleep on the couch, and doesn't wake up until about 9 PM. His wife asks why he is so tired. "Well, You remember George, my golfing buddy? He died today, on the fourth green."
"That's terrible, it must have been awful" she says. "It sure was," he says, "For the next 14 holes it was drive, drag George, chip, drag George, putt, drag George..."