After a life of golf, thinking he had a sound and consistent game, Fred has the worst round of his life.
Not able to take it, he enters the locker room, grabs a fresh razor, climbs into the showers and slits his wrists to die in the stream of water and blood ... Just after doing the deed and slumping down in the flow, a buddy comes in and yells "Fred, we need a forth tomorrow!"
Fred slams his wrists together and yells back, "What time?!?"