“As long as you’re flailing away like a one-armed guy at an angry golf-club-swinging contest, why not coach all these damned junior golfers for me?”
“Golf sucks. I’d need no arms to enjoy playing this sport.”
“That can be arranged. My old Crimean War buddy played with no arms. And I managed to him into teaching this class from ’34 through ’36.”
Why would you want to fix being Scruffy? Being Scruffy is awesome.