
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
sigh Gather 'round, disc golf drones, for the absurd tale of Flatwoods Monster's birth. This cryptid cropped up in rural West Virginia like a bad X-Files reboot, all glowing eyes and pleated fashion faux pas. Now it's dimension-hopping to a putting green near you, leaving sulfuric mist and shattered realities in its wake. Go figure. 🙄
clears throat So the Flatwoods Monster needed a mortal vessel, and naturally chose Clayton Rackham, PDGA #258668, because nothing says "cosmic destiny" like a random number assignment! The creature was drawn to his forehand like moths to an otherworldly flame. Or maybe it was just gas. Flatulence Woods Monster, am I right? Will this cosmic pairing survive longer than my will to narrate this nonsense?