THE COURSE FROM HELL
The Costanzas and their ragtag team were dragged to the Demonic Mini-Golf Course, which looked like a haunted carnival had collided with a black hole. Neon-red lava flowed through the water hazards, the windmills were made of serrated blades, and the clowns... well, let’s just say they didn’t laugh, but they did whisper unsettling secrets about your browser history.
Satan: (handing out golf clubs) “Alright, the rules are simple. Sink the ball in the hole, avoid eternal damnation, and don’t anger the clown on Hole 6. He’s unionised.”
Frank: (staring at the course in horror) “Why does every hole look like it wants to kill me?!”
Estelle: (already practising her swing) “Oh, stop complaining, Frank. It’s just like the time we played mini-golf in Atlantic City!”
Frank: “That course didn’t have a pit of despair! Or a clown that knew my Amazon password! What is this place?!”
HOLE 1: THE FLAMING LOOP-DE-LOOP
The first hole featured a flaming, vertical loop-de-loop, complete with demon bats circling the top.
Satan: (smirking) “This one’s a warm-up. Literally. Don’t miss, or the ball goes into the lava pit.”
Frank: (grumbling) “Warm-up? It’s a fire hazard!”
Donald the Orangutan confidently stepped up first, spinning his club like a samurai.
Donald: (grinning) “Watch and learn, losers. I’ve got the best swing in hell.”
He swung... and the ball shot straight up the loop. But just as it reached the top, a bat swooped down, grabbed it, and hurled it directly at Frank.
Frank: (dodging) “WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?!”
Estelle: (dryly) “Marry me, probably.”
HOLE 3: THE DEVIL’S DOGLEG
This hole had a split path: one side led through a spooky forest filled with skeleton hands grabbing at the players, while the other was a narrow plank over a pool of snapping demon-sharks.
Frigidor Dalek: (monotone) “THIS IS NOT WORTHY OF MY ARTISTIC TALENTS.”
Frigidor decided to roll his ball through the forest, only for the skeleton hands to grab it and toss it into the pool of sharks.
Frigidor Dalek: “I KNEW THIS COURSE WAS RIGGED. I DEMAND A REFUND!”
Meanwhile, Elon attempted to bounce his ball across the plank using his farting spring shoes.
Elon: (mid-bounce) “I call this innovation: The Muskrat Method™!”
He landed in the pool instead.
Elon: (splashing desperately) “THE SHARKS ARE BITCOIN MAXIMALISTS! HELP!”
HOLE 6: THE CLOWN’S REVENGE
As they approached the infamous Hole 6, the clown loomed above, its twisted face illuminated by flickering hellfire.
Clown: (in a raspy voice) “Welcome, sinners. Tell me: what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
Frank: (muttering) “I married Estelle.”
The clown’s eyes narrowed.
Clown: “Incorrect. You once pretended to be sick to skip work so you could eat a whole box of donuts alone in the car park.”
Frank: (stunned) “HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!”
The clown cackled and spat out Frank’s ball, which now glowed ominously.
Frank: (whispering to Estelle) “This thing is cursed. I know it.”
Estelle: (rolling her eyes) “Oh, please. Just hit the ball and stop being dramatic.”
Frank swung... and the ball ricocheted wildly, smashing through three windmills, setting off a demonic car alarm, and finally landing in the hole.
Frank: (gasping) “I did it! I WON!”
Clown: (grinning evilly) “Oh, you didn’t win. You unlocked Hole 13.”
THE FINAL HOLE: THE PORTAL OF DOOM
Hole 13 wasn’t on the map. The group found themselves standing before a swirling portal surrounded by jagged rocks and signs that read, “Abandon all putters, ye who enter here.”
Satan: (clapping his hands together) “Alright, folks, this is it. Sink the ball, and you’re free to leave. Miss, and... well, you’ll be my caddy for eternity.”
Frank: (shaking) “No way. Not doing it. I’m not going near that thing!”
Estelle: (shoving him forward) “Oh, don’t be a baby! If I can deal with your snoring for 40 years, you can handle one golf shot!”
Donald decided to take matters into his own hands, grabbing the glowing ball and hurling it directly into the portal.
Donald: (yelling) “Home run!”
The portal exploded in a burst of confetti, and the ball reappeared... wearing sunglasses and holding a tiny suitcase.
Ball: (in a deep voice) “Vacation’s over, chumps.”
It rolled itself into the hole, and the portal vanished.
VICTORY AND CHAOS
As the group celebrated, Satan handed them their “prize”: a commemorative Demonic Mini-Golf trophy shaped like a screaming soul.
Satan: (grinning) “Congratulations, mortals. You survived. Barely. Now, who’s up for a rematch?”
Frank: (snapping) “NO! WE’RE DONE! TAKE ME BACK TO EARTH, OR I’LL... I’LL CALL YOUR MOTHER!”
Satan: (gasping, clutching his chest) “You wouldn’t dare!”
The argument escalated into chaos, with Donald trying to steal the trophy, Estelle threatening to redesign Hell’s decor, and Frank storming off to find a hotdog stand that didn’t serve infernal mustard.
As the scene faded to black, Zoot could be heard giggling in the background.
