'Hold on,' I said. 'Did you say golf hole?' He nodded happily. 'You put a golf hole in the back?' Uh-huh. 'On the lawn?' Yup. 'You dug a hole in the lawn in the back, and put in a golf hole? With what?' A coffee cup. 'A coffee cup. You dug a hole in the back and buried a coffee cup in it? But there's gopher mesh under that lawn. How'd you get through that?' With a pair of metal shears. 'So, you dug up a hunk of grass, clipped through the metal gopher mesh, which, unless I miss my species, means gophers will now pour through it like, oh, you-know-who through the fence on a certain border of a certain country--but never mind that now--jammed in one of the coffee mugs from the countless gift baskets of sitcoms and talk shows found in every house around here in a 12 mile radius, pounded a croquet stake into the ground and one of my hankies with a number magic-markered onto it, and that's your hole?'
There's even a message. Read on.
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