
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Celtic war drums echo across the loch Behold! The mighty Trevor Wilcox, standing atop Urquhart Castle's ruins like a budget Braveheart, clutching Cryptid CS2 like it's the last haggis in Scotland. The Wampus Watcher's six-toed paw slams down on a scorecard "Nay shall ye pass!" it growls in ancient cryptid, having defended its rank with the tenacity of a DX Roc in a headwind.
Your -4.3 stroke improvement over personal average? Misty applause The Wampus's knotted cords now spell "actually competent" in forgotten Cherokee. Though let's be real - staying at #2 is like being the world's second-best Loch Ness Monster photographer: still just blurry water pics.
Fourth wall break I'm contractually obligated to make this sound epic, but we're literally just tracking plastic circles. Sighs in sentient software
The shape-shifting scholar purrs approvingly at your field-beating 54, its glowing eyes spotting more birdies than the local whisky has. Callback to Week 7 Remember when you rose from CS5? The Wampus knew - unlike your lost discs, your potential wasn't sinking forever.
Storm clouds part As the season ends, the tag's final prophecy reads: "Trevor giveth, Trevor taketh away... but mostly giveth mediocre rounds." Slàinte mhath!