
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
In the beginning, there was only hunger. The Cosmic Windigo, born from the void's gnawing emptiness, fragmented across realities like a metaphysical horcrux. Its icy tendrils wormed into countless folklores, an eldritch tapeworm feeding on fear itself. And now it's...a disc golf tag? The universe sure has a twisted sense of humor. #CosmicHorror #InnateDesireToConsume
sigh Another day, another cosmic horror reduced to a plastic trophy. The Cosmic Windigo sensed Clinton Atwater's 828 rating and thought, "Finally, someone whose hunger for birdies matches my own insatiable appetite!" It possessed his disc bag while he was busy missing putts. The ancient PDGA prophecy #238970 foretold this unholy union. Will Clinton's arm cannibalize the competition, or just his own scorecard? The Windigo hungers to know...