Has your crew been ill-tempered lately?  Kind of . . . on the edge, showing signs of unrest?  Have you heard them muttering phrases like, "Took my stapler" or "Aye, Captain Bligh" while they work dark to dark?

Could be you're working them like a rented mule, while you and the assistants attend tea parties at the clubhouse, Downton Abbey style.  Maybe the pay is too low, especially if somebody's lazy brother-in-law is sitting home making more on unemployment, running up high scores on Call of Duty, Zombie Version.  It's also possible the unrest is the result of this endless virus.

We think it's none of those things.  It could only be the crew doesn't have access to a restroom, due to the exponential increase of houses alongside the fairways.  Now we know you don't have the budget to construct a restroom just for the crew and you are reluctant to give up your private bidet, so we figured out the solution--in true Skeletal Golf Theory style.

The Golf Crew Advantage.  Order today, before the rush.