A man walks into a church and enters the confessional.
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."
The priest nods. "Go ahead, my son."
"I said the F-word this past weekend."
The priest smiles.
"That's hardly the worst thing I've heard. Say three Hail Marys, watch your language, and you'll be fine."
The man clears his throat.
"Well... I'd like to explain why I said it."
The priest sighs.
"All right. Go on."
"It happened Sunday morning. Instead of coming to church, I went golfing with my buddies."
The priest raises an eyebrow.
"So that's why you cursed?"
"No, Father."
"On the first tee, I absolutely crushed my drive... except it hooked way left into the trees."
"And then you swore?"
"No."
"When I got up there, I realized I'd caught a lucky bounce. The ball had rolled back into the fairway. I actually had a clear shot to the green."
The priest nods.
"So everything worked out."
"Not exactly. Just as I was about to hit, a squirrel ran out, grabbed my ball, and scampered up a tree."
"Ah! That's when you said it."
"No, Father."
"Because just then an eagle swooped down, snatched the squirrel in its talons, and flew off."
The priest leans forward.
"And that's when you swore?"
"No."
"The eagle flew right over the green... and the squirrel dropped the ball."
The priest's eyes widen.
"It landed..."
"...about five inches from the hole."
The priest slams his hand on the booth and shouts,
"Don't tell me you missed the fucking putt!"
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