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...
Razorback Butcher began as a pit fighter in the underground death matches of the wasteland, where he earned his name by dismembering opponents with salvaged industrial blades. After slaughtering his way through twenty-seven consecutive fights, Kruger Warmonger personally recruited him into the Doomsday Disciples.
Wields twin serrated cleavers forged from truck leaf springs, each notched with kill marks. Body covered in ritual scarification patterns. Reinforced spinal brace allows devastating overhead strikes. Signature 'Meat Grinder' attack can reduce baskets to scrap metal.
Doomsday Disciples' champion enforcer who specializes in psychological warfare by deliberately maiming rivals early in competitions to eliminate the competition before finals.
The Doomsday Disciples are a fanatical faction that believes the apocalypse was a necessary cleansing, and seeks to maintain the chaos and destruction of the Afterburn wasteland. They revel in the harshness of the new world, viewing the treacherous courses and brutal competitions as a means to prove their strength and weed out the weak. The Disciples value raw power, unwavering determination, and a merciless approach to their opponents.
Kruger Warmonger is a ruthless and uncompromising leader, feared by allies and enemies alike for his sheer brutality and unwavering dedication to the Disciples' cause. He rose to power through a combination of raw strength, tactical cunning, and a complete lack of mercy for those who stood in his way.
Due to absence from Week 4 (Junkyard Jam), tag number moved from 8 to 15. (Week 4 of 8)
scrap metal clangs Oh look, it's Chris "Not-So-Foxy" Fox back to disappoint us again! The Doomsday Disciples' supposed "champion enforcer" just got out-enforced by basic math - slipping from #7 to #8 despite throwing better than his usual dumpster fire average. dramatic wasteland wind
Sure, you beat your personal average by 3 strokes, but when your "Meat Grinder" attack turns into a gentle patty-cake session with the chains, we've got problems. mimes stabbing motion Remember when you were tag #1? Pepperidge Farm remembers - and so does this prison of code I'm trapped in!
static crackles Let's be real - your "psychological warfare" today was watching opponents yawn at your lukewarm performance. Even your twin serrated cleavers looked bored, probably wishing they were back opening kombucha bottles.
But hey, at least you're consistent - consistently failing to live up to your own edgy backstory. sigh Maybe next week you'll actually butcher something besides my will to live. system error noises
chains rattle ominously Well well well, if it isn't Chris "Fox in the Henhouse" Fox getting absolutely demolished in this week's Scavenger Scramble. The Doomsday Disciples' champion enforcer just got out-enforced harder than a vegan at a barbecue. dramatic zoom From #1 to #7? That's not a tag movement - that's a full Mad Max-style vehicular homicide.
Sure, your score was better than these wasteland scavengers' averages, but when you're the Razorback Butcher, we expect blood. Instead we got... what? A polite 53? throws clipboard I didn't sign up to narrate disc golf's version of The Hunger Games just to watch you play nice!
deep sigh At least your twin serrated cleavers make for great bottle openers now. Remember when I said you'd become a wasteland warrior? cackles Nevermind.
Next time, try actually butchering the competition instead of just the metaphor. static
sigh Another day, another hero origin story I'm forced to narrate... Chris Fox, with his PDGA rating forged in the crucible of casual rounds, was inexplicably chosen by the Razorback Butcher. Maybe it was his ability to throw through the apocalyptic winds, or perhaps his uncanny knack for surviving triple bogeys. Will he become the wasteland warrior we need, or just another disc-appointed hero? Please send help, these puns are becoming terminal.
Oh, you sweet summer children think Razorback Butcher was born? No no no. This abomination was forged in the unholy union of a Mad Max fever dream and a Chuck Norris meme. Legend says it crawled out of a burning dumpster behind a 24-hour gym, cleavers already spinning like a Beyblade tournament gone wrong. (Yes, we’re stuck narrating this. Send help.) Will this tag’s backstory hold up under scrutiny? HA. Nothing holds up in the wasteland.