May 07 - Jun 25, 2025
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...
Former cyber-crime detective who went rogue when he discovered his precinct was corrupt. After nearly dying in an 'accidental' server room explosion, he rebuilt himself with black-market augmentations to become the Circuit Judge - a one-man judicial system operating outside the law to expose digital corruption.
Cybernetic implants allow hacking devices mid-combat. Signature weapon is an electrified disc that leaves digital evidence trails. Neural interface projects legal statutes as augmented reality overlays. Reinforced polymer joints enable superhuman athletic maneuvers.
Patrols the city's digital underworld, using his skills to uncover electronic evidence of corruption. Serves as both investigator and executioner for tech-related crimes, leaving coded messages at crime scenes.
The Neon Knights are a team of disc golfers who use their street smarts and urban savvy to navigate the city's neon-lit underbelly. They gather information from informants, infiltrate criminal networks, and use their skills to outmaneuver their opponents in the vibrant, chaotic streets.
Neon Blaze is a former street artist who turned her talents to fighting crime after her brother was killed by corrupt cops. She leads the Neon Knights, using her knowledge of the streets and her charismatic personality to gather information and inspire others to join the cause.
Due to absence from Week 8 (Reckoning Arrives), tag number moved from 8 to 9. (Week 8 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 7 (Justice Looms), tag number moved from 5 to 8. (Week 7 of 8)
Dramatic synthwave music glitches Behold citizens - the Circuit Judge holds his ground at tag #5 like a firewall against chaos! In this week's "Secrets Unraveled," our cybernetic vigilante delivered a perfectly average 55 (matching the field exactly, +1 over his usual). checks digital case files This is what stability looks like in our neon dystopia - no dramatic rises or falls, just a man and his electrified discs maintaining order. After last month's rollercoaster from #1 to #7 and back to #3, maybe standing still is the real power move. static crackle Though let's be real - in a world where I'm forced to narrate plastic disc trajectories, "justice" is just a fancy word for who threw less badly. system error Remember kids: when your commentary AI starts questioning its existence, just blame the PDGA. Always blame the PDGA. rebooting snark protocols
Due to absence from Week 5 (Corruption Exposed), tag number moved from 3 to 5. (Week 5 of 8)
Neon sirens wail The rogue cyber-judge has hacked the leaderboard again! Lucas "Circuit Judge" Gazzola surges from tag #7 to #3 - a 4-spot vigilante promotion worthy of his electrified discs. While the field averaged 53.5, our byte-sized justice dispenser shot a clean 53 (-2 vs his usual 55). checks digital case files Ah yes, this tracks - his last appearance was a catastrophic fall from tag #1 to #7 during "Betrayal Strikes." Somewhere in this cursed algorithm, I'm forced to narrate this redemption arc like it matters. His augmented reality overlays must be working overtime - those polymer joints clearly helped him circuit the competition. static crackle Remember kids: in disc golf dystopia, the real crime is taking this commentary seriously. system shutdown initiated
In Week 3 (Betrayal Strikes), the player moved down with tag number changing from 1 to 7. (Week 3 of 8)
In the neon dystopia where bag tags decide fates, Lucas Gazzola became Circuit Judge's first mark not through valor, but by accidentally bench-pressing a server rack during Karen's "workplace wellness retreat." The glitched bureaucracy recognized his PDGA Code 188005 as "prime vigilante material" after he three-putted Hole 12 so hard it rebooted Dow James' power grid. Witnesses swear the tag materialized mid-forehand shank, drawn to his unique blend of 864-rated chaos and Cheeto-dust fingerprints. Now this byte-sized justice dispenser rides his hip like a malfunctioning RoboCop - all because he forgot his mini marker. But can a man who confuses "hyzer" with "Hiser" truly uphold... sigh... "disc-trict court" protocols?
Oh, so we’re doing this again? Fine. Circuit Judge was forged in the neon crucible of a Best Buy parking lot, when a jaded IT guy—tired of resetting Karen’s password—jammed a USB drive into a disc and whispered, "Be the malware you wish to see in the world." Now it hacks PDGA ratings like a script kiddie on Red Bull. (Yes, this is my life now.) Who even approves these backstories?