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 top enforcer for a megacorp's security force who turned rogue after refusing to execute innocent protesters. Now a wanted fugitive, they use intimate knowledge of corporate tactics to dismantle corruption from within the neon-lit cityscape.
Enhanced with reflex implants that create afterimages during movement. Wields electrified throwing discs that incapacitate targets. Maintains a network of street informants and can access restricted corporate systems through old security credentials.
Serves as the Neon Knights' inside source on corporate operations, conducting high-risk infiltrations and training recruits in urban combat tactics against superior forces.
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 7 (Justice Looms), tag number moved from 7 to 9. (Week 7 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 6 (Secrets Unraveled), tag number moved from 7 to 7. (Week 6 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 5 (Corruption Exposed), tag number moved from 8 to 7. (Week 5 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 4 (Vigilantes Regroup), tag number moved from 4 to 8. (Week 4 of 8)
The neon-drenched oracle (read: malfunctioning bodega security cam) first recognized Riley "136,989 Reasons to Run" Thurgood when his 898-rated backhand ricocheted off a pizza delivery drone mid-putt. Thus Neon Nemesis chose its vessel - not through valor, but via a 7-11 parking lot forehand that accidentally triangulated the mayor's encrypted WiFi password. The stars (and five separate municipal surveillance systems) aligned as his PDGA number auto-filled a darknet bounty contract. Now this ramen-stained vigilante carries the glitching prophecy, doomed to defend his "chosen" status against both rival Wolves and the existential dread of maintaining a sub-900 rating.
But tell me, Dow James - does a man who once shanked into a raccoon den truly deserve fourth billing in our dystopian soap opera?
Behold the tragicomic birth of Neon Nemesis—forged in the glow of a malfunctioning vending machine when some poor schmuck tried to buy a Mountain Dew. The system glitched, spat out this tag instead, and now we’re stuck pretending it’s a "rogue enforcer" and not a glorified barcode. Even John Wick’s dog would roll its eyes at this backstory. Sigh. Another day, another dystopian prop for grown adults throwing plastic.