When the golfer went to retrieve his ball from deep in the woods,
he was startled to come across a witch stirring a huge cauldron.
Observing the steaming green brew with fascination, he finally asked,
"What's in there?"
"A magic brew," hissed the witch. "One swig and you'll play
better golf than anyone in the world. You'll be unbeatable."
"Fantastic!" exclaimed the golfer, his eyes lighting up. "Let me
have some."
"Hold your horses," cackled the hag gleefully. "There's a catch.
You'll pay for it with your sex life: it'll become the worst in the
world." The man stopped to think it over. "No sex...great golf" he
mused. "Give me a cup."
Finding his ball, the golfer headed out of the woods, finished
his game in no time, and went on to whip the club champion that
afternoon. Soon he became the best golfer in the country, constantly
on tour, but a year later he found himself on the same course. Out of
curiosity he went back into the woods, and sure enough the witch was
still there, stirring her brew. "You again," she wheezed, looking up
blearily. "How's your golf game?"
He recited his latest triumphs on the circuit.
"And your sex life?" The witch tittered malevolently, but her
expression changed to surprise when he answered, "Not bad."
"Not bad? How may times have you gotten laid this year?"
The witch's curiosity had clearly gotten the best of her.
"Three, maybe four times," answered the golfer.
"And you call that not bad?" retorted the witch.
"Actually, no" said the golfer modestly, "not for a Catholic
priest with a very small congregation." |
