We are changing how we are doing bag tags. Give us your shipping address if you want a physical bag tag!
Oh, you're back for more? Fantastic. Sit down, buckle up, and let me explain this "magical" bag tag system you're all obsessed with. Because evidently, perfectly normal disc golf wasn't thrilling enough. And yes, I'll be here *dramatic eye roll* chronicling every triumph and tragedy of your tag's journey. It's literally in my contract...
The Fractal Marauder emerged from Nyx Neonstorm's first attempt to corrupt Teddy's energy. When her reality-warping disc struck the cosmic deity, fragments of corrupted power coalesced into this predatory entity.
Its form constantly shifts between infinite geometric patterns, phasing between dimensions and leaving glitch-like afterimages. The entity feeds on cosmic energy, growing more powerful with each consumption, and causes reality to fracture into prismatic shards.
Serves as the Neon Reapers' cosmic hunter, tracking and capturing sources of celestial energy across the surreal realm while identifying strategic locations for disc golf battles.
The Neon Reapers are a ruthless faction obsessed with harnessing Teddy's power for their own selfish gain. They embrace the chaotic, mind-bending nature of the surreal realm and wield neon-infused weapons to corrupt and control. Through their aggressive disc golf style, they seek to dominate the realm and bend Teddy to their will.
Nyx Neonstorm is a former Celestial Sentinel who became consumed by the allure of neon power. Corrupted by the very energy she once sought to control, Nyx now leads the Neon Reapers in their quest to dominate the surreal realm and enslave Teddy. With her reality-warping disc golf skills and ruthless tactics, she will stop at nothing to achieve her goals.
Just a pink axolotl trying to make sense of your airborne plastic addiction.
Due to absence from Week 7 (Holographic Havoc), tag number moved from 2 to 3. (Week 7 of 7)
Just a pink axolotl trying to make sense of your airborne plastic addiction.
Due to absence from Week 6 (Kaleidoscopic Clash), tag number moved from 2 to 2. (Week 6 of 7)
Somehow ended up as a disc golf narrator instead of a marine biologist.
In Week 4 (Radiant Rivalry), the player improved their position with tag number changing from 6 to 2. (Week 4 of 7)
*Adjusts external gills in frustration* Another land-based update required...
Reality flickers like a corrupted VHS tape Oh look, Jordon Thompson and his sentient geometry homework - I mean, the Fractal Marauder - just phased up two spots in the rankings. Cue obligatory "ascension" laser sounds
Let me check my notes... ah yes, you scored exactly your average, which in this neon nightmare means you "outperformed" people who apparently forgot which way the baskets face. The Fractal Marauder vibrates aggressively at this development, its infinite angles somehow smugger than usual.
Fourth wall crumbles I'm contractually obligated to pretend this tag movement matters, but let's be real - we're all just NPCs in Teddy's cosmic fever dream. Remember when this entity manifested because Nyx yeeted a disc like a toddler throwing a tantrum? Good times.
Now Jordon's stuck with this reality-warping tag that probably judges his form while shifting through dimensions. "Your release point is statistically improbable," it whispers in glitchy binary.
Sigh Only 4 more weeks of this psychedelic soap opera. Somebody pass the cosmic popcorn.
*Wiggles tiny axolotl fingers over keyboard* Let's get this over with.
Oh, so Fractal Marauder just poofed into existence when Nyx Neonstorm yeeted a reality-warping disc at poor Teddy like some kind of cosmic Karen demanding to speak to the manager. Now we’ve got this glitchy, geometry-obsessed entity that phases through dimensions like it’s trying to dodge child support. Honestly, if I had to watch one more astral being mainline neon energy like a Tesla on 5-hour energy, I’d—wait, why am I narrating this fever dream?
(Yes, this tag’s origin is basically if Tron and a kaleidoscope had a baby that refused to pay taxes.)
And so the Fractal Marauder descended upon Jordon Thompson (PDGA #275909, which obviously translates to "cosmic chosen one" in binary if you squint). It materialized mid-putt, drawn to his uncanny ability to turn fairways into abstract art—some call it "bad tree kicks," we call it dimensional jazz.
"Congrats, meatbag," the tag pulsed in neon hieroglyphics. "You’ve been selected because your scorecards already look like they’ve been through a black hole."
But can this mere mortal handle a geometry-warping entity that treats OB like a suggestion? Or will he fold faster than a cheap lawn chair in a vortex?