It all started out nice and friendly, until Hunter and I brought out the gnome. Troy, who had never seen Gerome before, was apalled. "God, he's hideous!" Troy exclaimed. Hunter and I tried our best to explain kitsch-appreciation to Troy, but he just wasn't getting it. Around the 8th hole, it seemed Troy's disgust for Gerome had grown to hatred. Hunter and I feared for Gerome's safety, and rightly so.
Gerome was just standing around on the green, minding his own business while, unbeknownst to him, danger lurked nearby.
With a quick tap Troy putted poor Gerome into the hole and shouted "hole-in-one." Poor Gerome. I suppose that things like this are an occupational hazard for roaming gnomes.
I'd like to say that this was the end of poor Gerome's golfing misadventures, however, as you see in the following picture they continued. Troy, unaware (so he says) that Gerome was taking a stroll along the 17th hole's bridge, prepared to putt.
I didn't have time to photograph the result of this mishap. I was too busy fishing Gerome out of the water trap and trying to repair the chip in his hat. Tired and broken, Gerome was laid in the car to recuperate from his first day out waymarking. Hunter and I decided that it's not safe for our little gnome to be around Troy and on future adventures we will have to spend more time watching out for him, as he tends to wander into danger if left to take care of himself. As penance for Troy's part in Gerome's troubles, he's been sentenced to at least 10 minutes a day of webtime on Archie McPhee's website until he can better appreciate kitsch.
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