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License to Kill

GasX

GasX

Lifer
License to kill gophers by the government of the United Nations. Man, free to kill gophers at will. To kill, you must know your enemy, and in this case my enemy is a varmint. And a varmint will never quit - ever. They're like the Viet Cong - Varmint Cong. So you have to fall back on superior firepower and superior intelligence.

And that's all she wrote...
 
This crowd has gone deadly silent, a Cinderella story outta nowhere. Former greenskeeper and now about to become the masters champion.
 
Pay no attention to that bush, moving around over there by that tree, it's just a bush. Nothing to look twice at. Nothing to be alarmed about. This looks like it could be gravy. I smell varmint poontang, and the only good varmint poontang is dead varmint poontang.

Freeze gopher!
 
This is a hybrid. This is a cross, ah, of Bluegrass, Kentucky Bluegrass, Featherbed Bent, and Northern California Sensemilia. The amazing stuff about this is, that you can play 36 holes on it in the afternoon, take it home and just get stoned to the bejeezus-belt that night on this stuff.
 
So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock.

So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald... striking.

So, I'm on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one -- big hitter, the Lama -- long, into a ten-thousand foot crevice, right at the base of this glacier. And do you know what the Lama says?

"Gunga galunga... gunga gunga galunga"

So we finish the eighteenth and he's gonna stiff me.

And I say, "Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know."

And he says, "Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consiousness."

So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.
 
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