Job opportunities for former "Cats" make-up artists must be few and far between...

We all know Tiger Woods is legendary for his unflappable demeanor on the golf course, but this HAD to unnerve him for at least a couple of holes:

photo courtesy of espn.com

He probably played out the remaining holes of this round deathly afraid of an encounter like this:

Tiger: {opens car door, struggles to shove comically oversized winnings check into passenger seat} {talking to himself} Hrrrmmph!...ehck...motherfucking...christ!... I wish they'd...mmMMPH... just give me a regular goddman-sized...fuuuuck...check for once. Ah. There we go. {sits down behind the wheel, starts car and reaches up to adjust rear view mirror, which terrifyingly reveals 2 tubby, middle-aged men sitting in his backseat, faces painted like tigers. One is dressed in a tiger-striped jumpsuit.}

Tiger Superfan #1 and #2: {in unison} RRRROOOAAARRRRRRR!!

Tiger: AAAAAAHHHHH!!! who--- who the FUCK!! {reaches under his seat for nunchucks}

TSF #1 and #2: {laughing like people who've been slammed in the back of the head with a shovel every hour on the hour for the last 30 years} Uh-huh-huh-huh-huh {in unison} Hi, Tiger!

Tiger: Sweetjesuscuntfuck! Get the fuck outta my car you psychos! Who the fuck ARE you?

TSF #1 and #2: {continue to laugh like people who've been slammed in the back of the head with a shovel every hour on the hour for the last 30 years}

Tiger: Look you fucknutties...Don't mess with me! I DO have nunchucks...I know I shoulda had the cops detain you when I saw you on the course.

TSF# 1: We're your biggest fans, Tiger! RRRROOAAARRRRRR!!!!!

Tiger: AAHHHH! Stop doing that!

TSF #2: Yeah, we're your biggest fans, Tiger...

Tiger: Well...great...that's great...

TSF #2: Yeah, Steve's mom painted our faces and everything.

Tiger: Steve's mom? Jesus. Look, you guys need to get out of --- {"Eye of the Tiger" starts playing} --- I...I think that's your cellphone.

TSF #1: Oh, yeah...that's mine. You get it? "Eye of the Tiger"? Get it, Tiger?

Tiger: Yeah, right. I get it. Look, are you gonna answer that? I hate that fucking song.

TSF #1: Answer? No, it's just my wife calling...

Tiger: Your wife?! You're married? Who the fuck would ma--

TSF #1: --it's our anniversary today. But she understands that it falls on the same day as your birthday, so she's not mad. Here, we made you a cake...

Tiger: Oh. Wow. Hey, that's...where did you just pull that out of? Nevermind. Don't answer that. OK, look, if I take the cake will you guys get the hell out of my car and never, never, EVER come near me again?

TSF #2: Never? No...no, I'm sorry, Mr. Woods. We can't do that. We're your biggest fans.

TSF #1: Yeah, we can't do that Mr. Woods. We actually came here to take you home with us.

TSF #2: Yeah...we're catchin' us a Tiger. RROOOOAAARRRRRR!

Tiger: What?! Home with you? Wait...wait...what the fuck is THAT?!!

{Tiger Superfan #1 pulls out a tranquilizer gun and points it at Tiger. Just then a ninja throwing star flies through the open car window and cleanly severs the heads of TSF #1 and TSF #2. Tiger looks up to see a man dressed in all black approaching. The man removes his mask, revealing his face.}

Tiger: Arnold Palmer?

Arnold Palmer: That's right, kid. You OK?

Tiger: I am now. How did you know I was in trouble?

Arnold Palmer: Well, I was watching the tournament on my 80" plasma while having my balls washed and prostate massaged by Beasley, my man servant, when I noticed those crazy catfucks following you on the 14th hole. I figured that couldn't end well. So, I fueled up my jet and got here as soon as I could.

Tiger: Jet? But wait, don't you live on this golf course?

Arnold: Well, yes. To be honest, I wanted to make a quick stop in Tijuana first to get some, uh, medicine for my arthritis. And a tranny whore. They have the best tranny whores.

Tiger: Well, gee Mr. Palmer. I'm sure glad you made it in time.

Arnold: Me too, Tiger. Me too. Now how 'bout a Fresca?


{FIN}