Roy: You're the Mexican Mac O'Grady. Figure out why I'm shanking...I'm catching it on the hosel? Moving my head? I'm laying it off?
Romeo: That, too.
Roy: I'm pronating.
Romeo: When you're not supinating.
Roy: I'm clearing too early, too late. My swing feels like an unfolding chair!
Romeo: Put your change in your left pocket. Go on, do it. Now, tie your left shoe in a double knot.
Roy: Tie my left shoe?
Romeo: Right now, do it! Turn the hat backwards. Turn your hat around. Do it, Roy! Take this tee and stick it behind your left ear.
Roy: I look like a fool!
Romeo: What do you think you look like shooting chili peppers up Lee Janzen's ass? Do it now or I'm going to quit. I swear to God I'll quit. Good. Take this ball and hit it up the fairway.
[Roy hits the ball straight]
Romeo: You're ready.
Roy: How'd I do that?
Romeo: Because you're not thinking about shanking or Molly. You're not thinking. You're looking like a fool, hitting the ball pure and simple...
Roy: Fuck you.
Romeo: Fuck me, huh? Well, you're cured.
Roy: That's it?
Romeo: That's it. Your brain was getting in the way.
Roy: That's hardly ever been the case.
Romeo: No shit, Sherlock.
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