Luyện nghe bài hát Champion

The
Donald: Welcome back on this glorious sunday for the final round of the Enbuary classic. The legendary Champion is now approaching the 18th tee off with an insomauntible 8th stroke lead.
The Well lets wrap this thing up
Donald: The gallery lets the champion know what a fine three days of golf he has had. The always charming Champion is now taking time to five a young spectator and the boy, the boy is awestruck. Haha, the gallery erupts into delight
Random person in the gallery: Go get champ!
Donald: Yes Yes. I think it would be hard to find in any sport a champion who is as beloved as this one. And the encouraging gallery goes silent. strokes ahead of the pack, the Champion slowly starts his back swing.
(Honking car horn)
Champion: Four! (Hit the ball.)
Donald: Oh no no! Apparently the honking horn had some of concentration effect on the champions usual monstrous drive.
Champion: Is that Greag kid or something?
(Gallery to laugh.)
Donald: The Champion shakes it off and makes some sort of humorous remark about the horn to the and they eat it up.
Champion: Lets get the back on the field.
Donald: Yes Yes, well now the Champion, his Caddy, and the elendent gallery make their way to the Champions ball, which is unfortunately larged next to a very thick tree route. The champion and his caddy talk it over. He;s going to play it safe and punch out with a 7 iron with a 8 stroke lead this is simply smart play by the legendary Champion. He the ball.. lets watch.
Champion: Take a swing at the ball hitting the route in the process)
Donald: Oh,well I.. I dont think thats what the Champion had in mind when he took that swing. The ball is now 10 yards.. um into the woods after ricoshaying off the tree route, and thers a of pain on the Champions face. He is shaking his hands as if to say I did not have a strong enough grip on the club when I hit the tree route, and my hands are stinging quite badly.
(Start Grunting)
Donald: The Champion is starting to mutter some obscenities about the car horn, which if you just joined us blew earlier during the back swing at the 18th tee off. Well now his caddy and friend of 25 years, Mr. Skipijankings, is doing every thing he can to get the champions mind back on track.
Skipijankings: (Say line during: is every thing he can...) Forget about the car horn, lets just win this thing!
Champion: Hahah, right.
Donald: What wonderful veteran words of wisdom. The Champion nods in agreement, and heads into the woods to set up for his shot which he will have to play out of a dreadfully muddy lie. Hes sticking with his 7 iron closes the club face a little. He starts his swing.
(Swing at ball)
Donald: And the ball did not move, um if anything its a little in the mud.
What is this fucking quick sand?!
Donald: The Champion is now conferring with coarse marshal, Canner.
What do I do next?
David: have to drop one.
And yes i.. it has been ruled that his ball is unplayible, he will take a drop and a one stroke penally.
Champion: (Start laughing a bit too hard as if you drunk)
Donald: and the Champion is now very hard, uh one might say a little too hard, but none of the less, he drops his new Areo Fly Ball and resumes play.
(Start to clap)
Donald: Back his trusty 3 wood, the Champion lines up his shot. He starts his back swing.
(Fart)
Donald: He flatuates. Stops his swing, and steps away his ball, and whispers something too his caddy, Mr. Skipijankings.
Skipijankings: Wha? What do you mean you got to a Shit?
Ive got to shit.
Skipijankings: Finish the hole, weve got to win this mother fucker!
Random man in gallery: Christ man!
Donald: Well now the Champion is staring angrily at his caddy. He continues to star for quite some time, and then abruptly walks to his ball; not taking much time set up at all he swings,
(Swing at the ball.)
Connects, a of a hit!
(applaud)
Donald: Starting to slice, oh no it goes directly into the center of a water hazard!
Champion: Youve got to be kidding me!
Donald: The Champion slowly walks over to his golf bag, unzips it, and pulls out, hmm what I believe is a 16 oz silver beverage container and drinking in large gulps. Why dont we take this time for a word from our sponcers, and then we will return to our final round coverage of the Enbuary Classic. (Whispers: Well I have no idea what he was thinking)
ANNOUNCER GUY: What do 17 major championships, over 6 million dollars in prize money, and the complete domination of the sport of golf have in common? Two things: The Champion, and Areo Fly Balls. Areo Fly Balls, they just seem to go further. If its good enough for the Champion, dont you its good enough for you.
Donald: Well welcome to our final round coverage of the Enbuary Classic.
Random (Say this during the beginning) PUT YOUR SHIRT BACK ON!
Ill tell you one thing. no ones fucking up me in my hole.
Donald: As we the action,
Because thay are fucking ugly
Donald: we can see his caddy and long time friend, Mr. Skipijankings, trying to cox the Champion out of the sand trap where he is on his back making a snow angle.
Get up! GET THE FUCK UP. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!
All right( get out of hole)
Donald: Well the Champion is now ceasing his behavior and is climbing out of the trap onto the green.
Champion: Yee-Haw! (Charge at Skipijankings and him)
Donald: The has just tackled long time friend, Mr. Skipijankings, Ive never scene any thing like this.
Skipijankings: Thats it! Im getting the Fuck out of here! Youre fucked up dude, you some help!
Champion: Ya I need fucking your wife!
Skipijankings: Fuck you! (Kick the Champion very hard!) Dont you EVER about my wife! Ill FUKING KILL YOU MAN!
Donald: Hear Hear! Generally Tempered, long time friend Mr. Skipijankings now storming off the forced hole, not with out hearing some expletive words hurled at him by the classless lord of the lace. Tears streaming down his face, the Champion is now alone on the green left with mainly a 12 foot put. (Police sirens are going off) Who would of thought that a horn honk could bring such disaster and disarray in one mas life. The Champion, now lining up his put, using the flag stick as his putter for some odd reason. He takes a few steps towards the hole, unbuckles his belt, The CHAMPION is defecating in the cup, and the gallery has scene enough! Not a moment too soon the police have arrived, and are advancing towards the champion slowly. In a last desperate act, the Champion holds the flag stick as if it were a large lance from medieval times, and runs full kilt in rage in his eyes towards the Officers.
Officers(Begin guns)
Donald: They Open fire. The champion has been shot. He is down on the green, hes not moving, walking inching their way towards the champion, the officer checks the champions pulse, and signals to the other police that the Champion is sure enough dead. If you are joining us Sunday May 7th at 2:42 P.M. perhaps the greatest golfer of our time is diseased at age 39. My God have mercy on his sole. This has been Donald Hefington saying good day, and good golf.