~~~Update: a huge shoutout to grayorca for being an awesome beta and doing a marvelous job here! This chapter would've still sucked without their help. :)~~~

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„All right, Ding-Dong. Stand by and watch the master of chips kick the ass of this grass."

In brutal, frank truth, Eddie didn't know shit about chips or pitches or lobs or grass or golf in general, or what he was doing with a ridiculous, long, knotty branch that was imitating a golf club on relatively smooth terrain, otherwise known as 29 Neibolt's backyard. The Losers had managed to tend to the grass some weeks earlier, and just making the place look nicer made them feel all the more comfortable.

The clown didn't seem to mind having his lawn tidied, but then again he never showed what he appreciated and what not. Said thing was currently crouching in a squat twenty five feet away, ridiculously standing out in his faded-out Victorian suit with huge, long-fingered hands touching the ground. Having known It long enough, Eddie was willing to bet It was purposefully imitating a dog. But then again, maybe the peculiarly-friendly demon was just trying to get as close to the hole dug in the ground next to it, which Eddie had proclaimed his 'cup'.

Pennywise shot him a look at the sound of the boy's voice and cocked his head to the side, making the soft bells on his outfit chime sweetly. Eddie bit his lip and chose to eye a small coulter pinecone that was meant to be the ball. He should've gotten used to it by now, but no matter the circumstances those unnatural eyes refusing to stick to one direction were still difficult to look at.

Bringing his stick closer to the target, stooping briefly to gauge his aim, Eddie found himself asking again just what the hell he was trying to prove. How many times has he tried playing golf before? That's right, none. With his father deceased and his mother whose paranoia could match a rabbit, Eddie had little opportunity to officially experience any kind of sport. Unless he took steps now, that would not change for years yet, if ever.

The boy suppressed a gulp, shielding his eyes as he glanced up into waning sunlight. With any luck, the one part of the gathered club that was in the house would opt to remain there, as he wished. Nobody needed to see him fail miserably. They might as well finish the random, absurd argument they had started, and now continued in no small part thanks to Richie. The distraction it provided left Eddie outside, alone if not with this unpredictable immortal creature who was in desperate need of socializing after a long week alone.

All the better to try now. Who knew when he might next get a chance?

Shaking those thoughts, Eddie swayed the stick's end into position, close to the cone, practically feeling the clown's eyes pry into it. He was just hoping Pennywise didn't really think he was meant to behave like a dog here. If he had any manner of luck whatsoever, the creature wasn't gonna chase after the brown thing to mercilessly chew it up the moment it flew toward the hole. Eddie had seen those teeth in action. And they weren't a fucking joke.

Venting a breath, he took a brave swing and snapped the stick against the plant seed. It flew away farther than he hoped it would, and for a split second he was convinced he was right. The cone was as good as gone.

Until his 'ball' had rebelliously jigged midair, bounced, and rolled into the grass 'trap' on the other side of Pennywise, who followed it with a blank look. The cone tumbled a bit further, struggling to keep up the miserable whiff of velocity Eddie had provided it with, and then rolled to an anti-climatic stop.

The clown looked at him.

„You missed", Pennywise instructed helpfully. Or so he probably thought.

„Yeah, thanks, Sherlock", Eddie mumbled, pulling another pinecone from his pocket and throwing it lightly in the air. Damn right nobody was gonna see this.

He tried another over-the-shoulder swing. The second cone fared worse, as it flew five feet over Pennywise's head, bounced off the chain-link fence, and was lost in the undergrowth. The third attempt inexplicably sent the ball flying backwards. The fact that Eddie somehow managed to hit himself in the face with his stick along the way was best put on the ''Forget Immediately'' list.

Looking on, the clown spared him such a bemused look that Eddie felt dumber than ever before. Well, not as much as when the cosmic demon pointed at the hole to his right with a long gloved finger. „The— the hole is right here, Eds."

Like it was that easy.

„Shut up!" He pointed the stick at the crouching clown.

„No, no, Dingles is right, Eddie." Another unwelcome voice joined the blossoming argument. "The original golf hole is meant to be 4.25 inches in size. Yours is about three times bigger, so missing it seriously makes me think you should get your eyes checked."

„Look who's talking, foureyes", Eddie growled, hackles up, not sparing Richie the reward of a second glance, cursing what he had only hoped to avoid. He should've never started this folly in the first place. He should've just made the clown chase those dumb cones. Better yet, he should've done that, then joined in on the pointless argument.

He took an angry, aimless swipe at the yard with the stick. „Whoever said that golf was a relaxing sport was a lying asshole."

„L-Language, Eddie." Bill and Beverly joined the audience, including little Georgie, who looked like everything was fine, and when Georgie looked like that, one could rest assured that everything was settled. The kid had a big grin on his face that would've been contagious in any other scenario. Eddie was objectively glad he was finding all this hilarious, but he was trying to prove a point here.

He half-glanced, half-glared back at the forming crowd. „You didn't cut the grass well."

„Wait, are you serious?" Beverly inquired, sipping on a straw. „Did I just hear you shifting the blame onto us using the dumbest excuse possible?"

„Of course he's shifting the blame", Richie rubbed more salt on Eddie's wound. "He's in standoff. He doesn't want to admit he can't do golf."

Eddie's index finger shot up toward him in time instead of the middle one. „You know what, Trashmouth?"

„Oh, don't let me distract you, Ed", Richie straightened his glasses, nonchalant. Ass-dipping snake. "You go on, you can do it. You gotta believe in yourself because we all believe in you. Including the creepy-ass monkey there, look."

The aforementioned clown somewhat confirmed that, bouncing up and down on his haunches, eyes wide in excitement. „Do another one! Eds, do another!"

Eddie blinked in disbelief, watching Pennywise as wheeled around and plucked up the original cone between his fingertips. Playing the impromptu-if-not-unconvincing caddy, the creature pitched it back, underhanded, with a lopsided grin. The cone tumbled over with enough force that Eddie stumbled in a clumsy attempt to catch it onehanded (that he somehow managed).

Georgie was convulsing with repressed giggles by now, and Bill had a smug grin on his face. The drink in her hand was of full interest to Beverly who had reason enough not to get roped into this individual molesting. Richie, meanwhile, looked like just won the casino jackpot, and that infernal clown chiming over there was behaving like a baby (then again, when did he not?).

All this made Eddie spread his arms and look up. „When did I lose control?"

„Are you a coward, Eddie?"

His arms dropped to his sides, matching the renewing frown creasing his face. „Seriously cut the crap, Tozier."

„Or what, you're gonna miss me?"

„Your gun might be missing the specific hole for the rest of your life after I'm done with you."

„Seriously, you're that stubborn?" Now Richie looked dumbfounded.

„I'm not stubborn, you're being a pain."

„Then shoot the effing cone, Eds", Richie pointed a declaring finger in the general direction of the hole, pertinacious eyes not leaving his friend.

Eddie settled his jaw and squinted, knowing he looked about as intimidating as a hamster, but he surely felt like it when an idea suddenly struck him. He weighed the cone experimentally in the palm of his hand. This one was actually bigger and heavier than the others, possibly too heavy to pass for a stand-in golf ball. But instead of turning back and setting it on the ground, Eddie braced his feet further apart, adopting a new stance. The erratic chiming stopped, signifying Pennywise settling down as he probably sensed what was going to happen.

Eddie tossed the cone up and down, throwing Richie a shrewd look and successfully wiping that idiotic smirk off his friend's face. But before he could utter anything, or take action, Eddie catapulted the cone higher in the air, gripped one end of the stick with both hands fiercely, and at a proper moment, twisted and swung.

With a sharp crack, the cone rocketed back toward the house with elegant precision, spinning around the center, and brilliantly collided with Richie's forehead. The result was satisfying to say the least. Tozier's head jutted backwards and in a second his legs were where his head had been, and his throat gave a not-loud, but shocked 'ugh!' His body collapsed against with the porch boards with a blunt, final thud.

Pennywise was first, and had an immediate reaction. He pointed a finger in Riche's direction and lit into hysterical laughter, pulling little Georgie with him and after a short while, Bill and Beverly were helpless against joining in as well.

Eddie leaned the stick on his shoulder and placed a hand on his hip. ˮYou know what, Ding-Dong? Forget what I said", he said to the still-laughing clown. ˮGolf is for pussies. Real men do baseball."

The struck-down Richie straightened into a half-sitting position, looking disorientated and crack-brained with oversized glasses tilting funnily upon his nose. He breathed exaggeratedly, shook his head and grabbed the sore spot that was sure to leave a mark. ˮYou... you're insane."

„Likewise."

„No, I mean you're a real idiot." He checked his glasses, a glimmer of actual panic surfacing in his expression. ˮMom's gonna kill me if anything happens to these."

„Well, you could just have avoided it", Eddie broke out a smug smile. ˮMaybe you need the eye check."

„Fuck off, Eddie."

„Language!"

„Beep-beep, Richie", giggled Pennywise.