Nick Rippit, the Flame Caster, stepped up to the tee. Shades circled the green, haunting all players who approached, and Nick was faced with a dilemma. Shoot for a low score and face their haunting? Or defeat the shades and risk a lower score?
He could leave it for the Frost Flinger, but shades were weaker against fire, and he didn't trust Garrett's shot to hit the shades, as good of a golfer as he was. Since Nick had the honors, this dilemma weighed heavier on him, but he knew what he ought to do.
After gauging the distance and wind, Nick teed up his ball, ignited it, then lined himself up to hit. With a full backswing Nick ripped the fireball straight over the fairway, and hit the closest shade in the chest, then ricocheted off it to the remaining shades, igniting each one in turn. Their ashen remains fluttered to the ground and singed the green where they landed before the wind swept them away. Nick's ball hit the ground and left its own burn mark, then a frozen ball of ice bounced right over his, extinguishing the flame.
The green was fresh again when the double approached, and they could putt in peace with the shades vanquished. Garrett commended Nick's shot and even admitted his inability to do the same. They walked off the green, Garrett with a birdie, Nick with par, and continued their game, hoping other golfers had defeated any other entities.
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