Wife Shopping with Tiger Woods

Tiger Woods and agent Mark Steinberg discuss recent events while at lunch early Thursday afternoon.

TW: You said that she was put through an extensive vetting process.  Fucking EXTENSIVE.  Rigorous psychological testing and a self esteem evaluation to ensure that this woman would be as wilfully subservient as fucking possible!  I was SUPPOSED to have a well-adjusted homemaker, who would be allotted 5 tournament visits per year.  5 tournament visits for which I give prior authorization.  In other words, NO FUCKING SURPRISES.  If I want to get tossed around by some buxom bruiser in Texas after the Byron Nelson, then I should be able to do so!  If I feel like getting my penis wet in Dubai, well then god damn it I will lift that burka, god damn it, I WILL LIFT IT!

MS: Okay, Tiger.  Let's just be calm about this if we can.

TW: CALM?!

MS: Okay... I understand.  You have every reason to be upset

TW: You bet your FUCKING ass I do!

MS: But... Don't you think it would be best, in the opinion of the all-seeing public eye if we tried to resolve this situation without engaging in any divorce proceedings?

TW: Look at my face, god damn it!  Jesus Christ.  I cannot live with this... this... SHE-DEVIL for ANY longer.

MS: Okay... Okay, Tiger.  Well then what do you want to do?

TW: Take me wife shopping.

MS: Wife-shopping?

TW: Yes, but this time I will be making the final decision.  Last time I handed you my wallet, you went to the store and brought me home god damned psychopath.  Tiger knows best, and god damn it, I will be picking out the groceries this time.

MS: Tiger, I...

TW: GOD DAMN IT, THIS IS MY LIFE, MY MONEY, AND I WILL BUY ANY WIFE THAT I DAMN WELL PLEASE!

MS: All right... I'll fire up the Bentley.

/They get in the car and begin driving

TW: Let's go to Nordstroms.

MS: What's that, Tiger?  You know that there are agencies that we can visit.  High-priced agencies that run tests and recommend a good fit.

TW: Well, god damn it, Mark.  Haven't we been over this?  My beautiful face.  Look at it.  Think Nike wants to use this face in one of their commercials?  I'm Tiger Woods?  I look like Freddy Fucking Krueger god damn it.  Stop right here.

Look at 'em... They're perfect.

MS: What's perfect, Tiger?

TW: Them.

MS: The... The mannequins?

TW: You watch your GOD DAMNED mouth, Mark.  They're people just like you and I.

MS: In fact, Tiger, they're not.

TW: What do you think about the blue one?  The dark blue one.  She's exotic.

MS: Tiger, she's not alive.  She's made of synthetic materials and is unable to communicate.

TW: Actually, I think I'm going to go with the one in yellow.  Less flashy, you know?  More conservative.  My fans will have an easier time with it that way.

MS: Tiger, she's an inanimate fucking object.

TW: YOU'RE AN INANIMATE FUCKING OBJECT!!!  You don't get it, do you, Steve?  I don't WANT anyone to communicate with.  I don't WANT anyone to show up at my tournaments.  I don't WANT anyone CLAWING AT MY FUCKING FACE BECAUSE I JIZZED ON THAT COCKTAIL WAITRESSES BREASTS.  

All I need, is someone to be beautiful to be there for the necessary photo-ops.  Look at John McCain's wife?  I want that.  But less chatty.


MS: Tiger, are you still abusing that Ambien?  Should we go see a doctor?

TW: I want her, Mark.  Make it happen.

MS: Tiger... The sponsors... They're not going to... They're not going to like this.

TW: Oh?  So maybe if I get back with Elin and she cuts my throat while I'm asleep?  Think the sponsors would like that?

MS: Well, no.

TW: Am I still the best golfer in the world?

MS: Of course.

TW: My teeth.  Are they still super white?

MS: From what I can tell.

TW: Then shut your god damn mouth, get the divorce papers together, and get that beauty into the back of the Bentley.  Tomorrow she meets the world!  

I'm Tiger Woods, mother fucker.

MS: Oh god, We're fucked.