The Prison Yard

It's gonna be the manifold. I knew it.

I should have checked the manifold. Goddamn manifold, right?

You don't know shit about engines. It's the belt.

Well, the belt's connected to the manifold, so…

Stop it, all right?

It is a belt. It is a serpentine belt.

Oh, serpentine belt.

I saw an auto parts shop before we got on the road.

I can fix it, but it'll take like half a day.

Okay, well, how far away is the golf course?

I don't know, 20, 30 miles.

You know, I got this.

I'm gonna hitch. I've hitched to many a tournament.

-You're gonna hitchhike? -Yeah, why not?

Who's gonna stop for a creepy old guy in golf shoes?

Know what? I'll see you this afternoon.

All right.

-You're gonna get killed. -If I do, you can have the bus.

It'll be like two serial killers who troll the highways looking for drifters.

They're gonna turn your face into a mask and rob banks with it.

It'll be Lonnie Hawkins on wanted posters everywhere.

But it won't be you.

'Cause you'll be cut up into a dumpster behind a truck stop somewhere.

What did I tell you? Huh?

Look, huh? Duh!

Un-fucking-believable.

-They call him the Hawk -Hawk!

He's a golfer

The greatest golfer in the world!

Oof! That was gonna be a long walk.

I got a golf tournament in Los Angeles, so I really appreciate it.

That's where I'm headed. I'm… I'm a PGA Tour player.

You may have recognized me. Uh, Lonnie "The Hawk" Hawkins.

Oh, where's my visor?

I heard of you.

Good. Well, good.

That's nice.

-That girl back there… -Yeah.

She your girlfriend?

-Her? -Yeah.

No, no, no. She's my caddie.

-Oh, your caddie. -Yeah.

Do you fuck her?

I'm sorry?

No. What?

-No? -Uh-uh. No.

Do you want to?

Are you gonna cut my face off and make a mask out of it?

You see this shit?

Golf Digest. Really?

Unbelievable.

Oh God.

They're just trying to stir up some big underdog story.

-Don't let it bother you. -How am I supposed to do that?

You see the pairings for Thursday?

They put us in the same group. He's not even ranked in the top 500.

Honey, stop. It's just for TV.

I just need to break something.

-I need to break something. -Hey, Lance, whoa!

Whoa. Let's try some manifesting.

Um… stupid.

I can't "manifest" him out of the tournament.

-Come on. -Okay.

I gotta get in some ice!

Hey.

What?

Where did you go last night?

What are you talking about?

-I was with you at the engagement thing. -I know, but after, when we got back home.

I told you, I had to, uh, hit the range.

Okay, well, I just saw you looking at your phone, and then I saw you leave, so…

Are you having an affair?

Be honest.

An affair? Are you… What, are you crazy?

-No, I don't know. -Come on.

You've been acting really strange, and closed off, and…

Don't do this right now. I have to focus.

You know how hard golf is at this level? It's not some fucking bank job.

And you're coming in accusing me of having an affair?

Are you having an affair?

Look, I'm so sorry.

I'm just stressed.

Now I… I love you so much. I wish I could stay here with you all day.

You look so fucking sexy in your little jammies right now, but I just, I can't.

I got a practice round at 2:00. I gotta jump in some ice.

Oh, and Nat?

-You look great. -Great.

Look at this shit.

Is that Lonnie Hawkins? I thought he was retired.

Does that look retired to you?

He looks old.

Oh, not like you remember him?

Now, Anton, I thought we were done talking about that a long time ago.

I just get so mad when I think about his hands on your voluptuous titties.

Well, then don't.

Him undulating all over you like a wild hog on a deer carcass?

Okay, he didn't undulate… that much. And it was over 15 years ago.

You need to get over it.

Okay, I know. I know. I'm just so steaming mad!

-I mean, look at me. I'm a wonderful guy. -Mm-hmm.

There are those who want me to be the next PGA Tour commissioner.

You have to be.

And then along comes this walking bag of burps and farts,

and suddenly everybody ejaculates in their pants.

Why don't you kick him out of the Tour? You're on the board.

I can't. He is back up fair and square.

-I feel so weak in my bones. -Mmm.

I'm gonna go check on my beehives.

Okay.

Do you want me to have Selma draw you a warm bath?

Yes, I do.

Okay.

Selma!

Selma!

Can you believe this shit?

What, dear?

This, my husband.

Dirtbag of the century on the cover of Golf Digest.

Whoo.

Well, looky there.

I have been trying so hard to get Lance on the cover of this magazine,

and this shithole walks out of a dump,

and there he is, taking up space.

Well, Lance was in the magazine last month.

Ten best players to watch? That doesn't mean shit.

Is this about Teed Off?

No, this is about the mental health of my son.

You sure about that?

-What are you getting at, Radford? -Jessalynn Siwa.

-What? -JoJo's mom.

Who?

JoJo Siwa, the adorable little muffin on Dance Moms.

I don't even know what that is.

I don't really care about what they say I'mma come back like a boomerang

-The hell's that? -You have to listen to that.

-That is like the greatest song ever. -Never heard it.

Never mind, listen.

I'm not saying… this is you, dear.

But some people… and not everyone…

but some people thought that Jessalynn Siwa, JoJo Siwa's mom,

pushed her daughter, and used her fame to enrich her own self.

-Excuse me? -Not saying she was you.

-Sounds like it. -Well… no.

It only sounds like it 'cause you're hearing that.

Now, listen, it's a different situation.

Lance is grown and he can do whatever he wants.

That's right, he can.

So it's very different.

-And no one is like JoJo Siwa-- -Radford, let me-- Radford?

Yes?

Let me ask you a question. Have you ever been a mother?

-You know I don't have children. -Have you ever been a mother?

No, I have not.

Listen to me, I don't know this Jessalynn woman or her child JoJo, okay?

But maybe, as a mother, she knew something about her child

that no one else in the world could know, okay? You with me?

Maybe she knew that her daughter needed to be pushed.

Pushed by someone who cared. And if she wasn't pushing,

that child would crack up faster than plates at a Greek… wedding.

And you always use the Greek wedding analogy.

And you know what? It works, and you're right.

-Thank you. -You're always right.

Well, listen, what's best for Lance is best for me.

And right now, I have someone pissing on my parade.

I just think you should back off Natalie is all.

-No, I'm talking about this asshole. -Okay.

-Okay? -Just be careful, that's all.

Now I may not have been a father, but I was a son.

And fathers and sons have been confounding mankind since Sophocles.

-Mmm… -You're walking a razor's edge there.

I've been walking on that edge my whole life.

Well, thank you for not cutting my face off.

Hope you have a great day.

You have a great day as well.

Oh, please. Please don't.

Easy, son.

Easy.

I just want you to have this jar of pickles I made.

Oh.

You're all right in my book.

All right, well… thank you.

Hey.

Play it as it lies, Lonnie Hawkins.

Play it as it lies.

Right.

I ran this through the belt path. It looks like I need a 72.42.

You know the make of the car?

Do you have a 72.42?

Ma'am, you can't just put any belt on a car.

You gotta know the make and the model of the vehicle.

I'm sorry.

I should have said from the get-go, my brother, who's a mechanic,

he would like a 72.42 Goodyear serpentine belt.

-You got it. -Okay, thank you.

I know who you are.

-Are you a cop? -Funny, cop.

No, you're Lonnie Hawkins' caddie.

Uh… yeah, I am.

I'm in town, uh, for the tournament tomorrow.

I can't wait to see the Hawk hit again. Unh!