“I suppose I should say a prayer,” Skully admitted. “Let’s see…. Friends may come and friends may go.”

Banes cut in “And friends may peter out you know.”

And together, arms around each other’s shoulders, they extolled “But we’ll be friends through thick and thin. Peter out, or peter in.”

The sun set casting an orange glow on the Potomac while Skully and Banes drank a toast to the goose, the Masters Cap, and last, but not least, Skully’s new name.

“I feel terrible about the goose,” Skully confessed.

“Not your best shot,” Banes admitted. “Although it did give new meaning to the term “birdie.” How’s your head?”

“A little crusty,” Skully replied reaching back to inspect the damage. “But I’ve seen worse.”

“I’m sure you have,” Banes agreed, contemplating Skully’s previous life as a Navy SEAL.

Skully smirked and offered his friend a cigar. Banes accepted and reciprocated by proffering Glen once again. They sat there on the bank of the river smoking and sipping. Like the river, they were calm on the surface with strong currents running below.

Until Banes’ cell phone rang.

“Banes,” he answered.

“Fred,” said the phone. “C’mon up to the club, we’re all having dinner. And make sure you bring Skully.”

Banes hung up and turned to Skully. “That was sir Frederick. Our presence is requested in the dining room.”

The two of them ascended the hill to the clubhouse. The post-tournament celebration was in high gear on the back patio. And they all seemed to be gathered around an oversized grill that Skully and Banes recognized as being Fred’s.

“Fred, since when does the club cook on your grill?” Skully asked his neighbor.

“When we’re cooking your goose!” he said maniacally and flung open the top of the bbq.

There lay the headless goose on the grill. “Take a gander at that!” Fred said, cut a wedge from its breast and held out the fork to Skully. “See if she’s cooked to your liking.”

As Skully shook his head and the crowd shook with laughter, Banes appeared with a couple of Sam Adams and handed one to the golfer formerly known as Frank, Hank, Shank, Shank Williams, XS, Sully and Sally.

“I christen thee Skully,” Banes said, pouring an ounce of beer on his friends chewed up head.

“TO SKULLY,” cheered the crowd, clanking their glasses together. Skully took a long pull of the Sam and returned the toast:

“With friends like these…who needs enemas?”

And with those appetizing words, they sat down to dinner.