In the middle of the Scorched Dunes, a team of archaeologists once uncovered something baffling—a miniature golf course, half-buried in ancient ruins.

Dr. Lydia Hart, known for her skepticism and dry wit, had been the first to lay eyes on the site. "Gentlemen," she’d said through her sunglasses, "I believe we've just discovered the oldest round of mini-golf in human history."

The track twisted through crumbling arches, serpentined over sand-covered ruins, and even crossed a waterfall trickling down a rocky ledge. But the true centerpiece was a massive fossilized skeleton, its ribs forming a bony tunnel over what was then known as Hole Thirteen.

“Those ribs,” intern Max had once whispered, “they look like part of a creature... or maybe… an obstacle?”

Now, years later, the Serkanar Mini-Golf Preserve has become a world-renowned tourist destination.

Carefully restored and retrofitted with safety railings, guided tours, and a charming desert café, the ancient site now welcomes visitors from around the globe. Guests putt their way through reconstructed ruins, dodging dino-bone hazards and ancient traps—many now cleverly disguised as animatronics for added flair.

The original warning still stands at Hole Thirteen, carved into a stone plaque:

"Only the worthy shall score a birdie and live."

It’s part of the charm. A dramatized hologram of Dr. Hart recites the quote before players take their shot, and every so often, motion sensors trigger a low rumble and a glowing eye in the skull above—just enough to make kids scream and parents laugh nervously.

Of course, it's all in good fun.

Probably.