+0 votes Fred Vocino › October 10, 2015
I imagine this course has gates where you only pause to receive a bouquet of flowers and warm towel to wipe your troubles away. The tees have tiled borders and rececessed lights pointing you toward the basket. When your disc hits the chains little bells ring below. Androgynous escorts guide you to the next tee while they dust your putter and offer you lemonade. No pics, scores, favorites, directions, designers, events or other information is disclosed; as everyone who plays this course is caught in the rapture and never heard from again.