Work in Progress: Study of a Mad Golfer
Inspired by Work in Progress: Study of an Evil Genius by purplegirl761. The idea and concept goes completelyto her-I just changed around our main character! I'm a Duff fan, so I thought I'd try this lovely fan fiction idea with him. I don't think I'll go up to 100, but I'll try my best. :) Most stuff is going to be made up, since we really didn't get to see many episodes with him, therefore not getting many situations or information to write about. The one-shots will be random, ranging from as a wee laddie, to his mad golfer days. Hope ye like it, me lassies and laddies!
I'm giving it the highest rating, because certain subjects will be brought up later. And sorry to any Scots out there if I mess up some kind of information or something like that. I'm not Scottish.
-I tried making this chapter as intense and as emotional as I could. So if my words don't do me justice, just use your imagination.
**I'm being a bit more realistic here…going to add more Scots to his speech. Sorry if you can't understand, but do your best. You'll be able to get his drift most likely.
Sorry I took so long to update. Ive taken a long break from writing…but I'm back. I promise.
Golf, part 1
He had already driven through to the employee and member parking lot, parked the car, and had gotten out. He waddled over to the trunk to get out his clubs and his balls and his tees…
He opened the trunk and sighed with satisfaction. There they were, shiny new. Just bought from a new golf store they opened up in town, and he got discounts from being a member of the country club. Life was good.
He grabs the brown golf bag out from his trunk and slams it shut. What a nice little vehicle. And it was Scottish-made, too! A bonus! This new job of his? Oh yeah. Not only did it pay the rent, but it came with its benefits.
Eighteen year old Duff was living in the family castle with his father, paying rent. His brother just recently moved out after marrying Duff, Will and Carol's childhood friend Mary, and Will's long-time girl friend. Will got a job opening up a slaughterhouse on the mainland Scotland, and recently purchased a house. The newlyweds have been trying for kids, Duff has heard with much disgust. All he could think about was how could anyone support the reproduction of Satan and his wife?
Duff shivered at the thought of him being an uncle. Just the thought of those little demons running around; spawns of the devil jumping all over him yelling "Uncle Duff! Uncle Duff!"…
A quick thought occurred to him.
Wait…uncle? cheil, am Ah gettin' auld.
Even though he was only eighteen, being an uncle certainly raised the age factor. He felt at least thirty.
Duff walked as calmly as he could to the head facility, carrying his golf bag. It was a long walk from the parking lot, be he enjoyed the scenery. The Gentlemen's Golf Club had some extremely beautiful fields, and to top it off the weather was lovely.
Duff loved his job so…the pay was more than fantastic, it gave him some independent freedom from his family, like his brutal father, and the best of all—he was doing something he loved.
Being a professional golfer…nothing compared. It was Duff's dream job. He couldn't believe he had the job, right in his palms. He was quickly rising to the top from his exceptional skill…he basically had almost no competition. No one came even close to scoring better than he.
Duff, while on his long walk, remembered how his love for golf grew over the years…back at the family castle, when he was a kid, he would hit the tiny white ball across the large fields with a small stick. The childish imitation of the game grew on him, and over the years, it soon became an escape. One of the only things Duff Killigan woke up to in the morning was the hope that he would be able to play a game of golf against his siblings. Or even if he played alone—it didn't matter. But very, very soon he just got better and better…in his teens he bought himself his first golf club, and he could remember the first time he held it…the first time he hit that golf ball…how high it flew! He didn't know how hard his swing really was, with the right tools. (A golf club certainly was much more efficient than a stick)
Duff remembered everything about his love of golf…when his Pa would beat him, or when his Brer would tease him, he would just cry and run out to the fields…but when he took up that club and held it in his hands…all the pain would just go away…
And now, he was being paid to enjoy life, to play the sport he held so dearly. The high class life was pretty alright so far…he was the star athlete of his friends, and they would always go to an expensive, fancy bar on the mainland and sometimes the bartender would recognize him and allow everyone free drinks…or he would pay for everyone's drinks since he could…or a lass would see and know him and buy him a drink…or he would see a pretty lass and buy her a drink.
Oh, that's right. The job came with those benefits too….the lassies; the many, jock-loving lassies.
Duff smirked. Maybe one of these days he'll find a lass that was just right…maybe he would…you know, tie the knot or something.
Eh, not so fast…he wasn't ready to settle down juuust yet. He still had some free years ahead of him to…mess around with.
Duff whistled a tune, just as he approached the head facility. It was a tune his mother had sang to him, when he was a child. Duff sighed whenever he thought about his mother…he just couldn't seem to get over her, after all the years.
Well, at least he had Carol to keep him in spirits…she was so lovely.
Just the other day he was talking to her about something…and she gave him this innocent, sweet little smile that could make anyone melt. Duff was three years older than his sister, and he took care of her more than anyone. His Pa didn't care about her, and Will would often entertain himself by trying to get her (and Duff, if it was possible) in trouble.
But Duff? He was the perfect big brother any young woman could ever ask for. He cared for Carol more than anything in the world. Safe to say, even golf.
He imagined being close to her for the rest of their lives—when he finally rises to the top of his career, he promised to supply her with everything she could ever ask for. They would be living in luxury together. Only them and no one else to bother (Unless, of course, if he or Carol got married and such. Then the extended family would certainly be welcome).
These pleasant thoughts went through his head when he entered the head facility. There, he met Callum, his agent. He greeted him cheerfully every single morning. This day was no different.
"Duff! Mah, ye swatch weel thes morn. Fit loch en? Can Ah gie ye anythin'? Bin workin' oan 'at swin' ay yoors?"
Duff shook his head no. "Aam braw, cheers Callum. Jist anither brammer day it oan th' field."
Callum smirked. "Weel alrecht 'en! Let's gie swingin'."
Duff smirked back. There was absolutely no doubt that life was anything but good.