Tango drops grass to judge the wind, eyes darting all the while to every tree, dip and hummock. It’s dead calm and silent. Cautiously, he takes stance.
With a BWAANNNG, Kobayashi’s there, leaping from nowhere to dive in with his own five iron. They slap clubs with a sound that jars his bones; Tango’s stronger, though, and hooks Kobayashi and both clubs away together.
Spike’s been waiting for that, and moves out from behind a sapling at a run. Tango snatches the greatsword from his terrified caddy’s bag; it’s going to be close.
“FORE!” he thunders, and swings it down hard.