Fred and Harry were playing their usual weekend match on the links and were annoyed by an unusually slow twosome in front of them.
One of them was marching around on the fairway while the other was searching distractedly in the tall rough that framed the hole.
“Hey,” shouted Fred, “why don’t you help your friend find his bloody ball?”
“He’s got his bloody ball,” came the reply. “It’s his bloody club he’s looking for.”