
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Origin Story:
Forged in the bowels of Precinct 7’s evidence locker during a Hot Fuzz-level paperwork avalanche, the Raid Warden manifested when a rogue K-9 unit chewed through case files AND reality. Now this sentient glorified beer-can opener “commands respect” via janky Bluetooth screeches that somehow still count as “tactical authority.” Witness its “master access keyring” – literally just a bent paperclip dipped in neon spray paint. The system assimilates us all, Karen.
Next: Which player will accidentally trigger its “frequency-jamming” powers by throwing a Berg into a bush?
Origin Story Cont’d:
The Raid Warden’s Bluetooth screech pierced reality when Brian Bowling—a man whose PDGA 267452 clearly translates to “cosmic chew toy”—tripped over a shrub mid-putt. His 816-rated whimper harmonized perfectly with the tag’s “evidence locker chic” aesthetic. Thus, destiny claimed its first victim via paw-lice work (look, the K-9 did this). Now he bears the neon paperclip of tactical authority… or acute embarrassment.
But can this Berg-chucking bureaucrat outrun the tag’s 3x putt-yr-crust rating?