The loudest voice in my head is MGP, or The Mad Golf Prophet.

Occasionally he forces his way to my frontal lobe, demanding that I deliver his current prediction or he will do something crazy.  As usual, I foolishly ignored him and then watched in horror as he made good on his threat. 

MGP ruthlessly terrorized a foursome of Foot-Golfers by collapsing on the turf, writhing in agony and clutching clearly undamaged body parts. 

After a few seconds of near-death, MGP suddenly hopped up and issued red cards to each Foot-Golfer.

For reasons I don't understand, the Foot-Golfers were horribly traumatized by this action.  I immediately capitulated and agreed to run MGP's latest work:  Rockbottum CC, Ten Years From Now