
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
*Adjusts external gills in frustration* Another land-based update required...
Due to absence from Week 5 (Warrior's Pilgrimage), tag number moved from 9 to 11. (Week 5 of 8)
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...
Born during a blood moon ritual, this warrior underwent the forbidden Trial of Dread, consuming the essence of conquered apex predators to gain their strength. Through countless battles with the wasteland's most fearsome creatures, they earned their title by systematically hunting and destroying entities that even other Primal Predators feared to face.
Possesses enhanced muscular density and heightened predatory senses from repeated exposure to mutant essence. Their blood carries traces of various apex predator DNA, allowing them to adapt their hunting style to any prey. Years of consuming mutant flesh have left them with naturally armored skin and the ability to track prey through pheromone detection.
Serves as the tribe's supreme hunter, tasked with eliminating extraordinary threats that emerge from the wasteland's depths. They train elite warriors in the arts of hunting and survival, maintaining the tribe's dominance through calculated violence and tactical supremacy.
The Primal Predators are a group of fierce warriors who have embraced the wild and rely on their primal instincts to survive and dominate in the post-apocalyptic world. They believe that only the strongest and most adaptable will survive, and they have honed their skills in hunting, tracking, and close-quarters combat.
Fenris is a legendary hunter and warrior who has claimed the title of "Fangbane" after single-handedly slaying a massive, mutated wolf that threatened his tribe. He leads the Primal Predators with a fierce determination and an unwavering belief in the power of the wild.
*Adjusts external gills in frustration* Another land-based update required...
Due to absence from Week 5 (Warrior's Pilgrimage), tag number moved from 9 to 11. (Week 5 of 8)
Your aquatic narrator, wondering how an axolotl got stuck commentating disc golf.
Due to absence from Week 4 (Nomad's Testament), tag number moved from 4 to 9. (Week 4 of 8)
Why couldn't I be trapped in a swimming pool scoring system instead?
grabs megaphone made of scavenged putters ATTENTION WASTELANDERS! The Primal Dreadslayer has awakened from its Week 2 hibernation to DEVOUR six tribal positions in a single feeding frenzy! Brandon Schrank may have thrown like someone who just discovered opposable thumbs (+5.5 vs field), but somehow this mutated meathead climbed from rank 10 to 4.
flips through Mad Max fanfic notes Our apex predator apparently "hunted" his way up the food chain by... checks notes... throwing slightly less badly than usual? sigh I swear this tribal hierarchy makes less sense than the Fast & Furious timeline.
adjusts neon war paint But let's not question the wasteland gods - this walking steroid advertisement now carries the sacred Primal Dreadslayer, whose mutant pheromone detection probably explains how he sniffed out those extra positions. Remember kids: in post-apocalyptic disc golf, it's not about your score - it's about looking cool while failing upward.
static crackles Oh great, now the tribal elders are demanding I reference Week 1's "direct-to-VHS disaster" commentary. Fine. At least this sequel marginally improves on the original. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go scream into a basket.
*Flutters pink gills* Fine, I'll explain this gravity-dependent nonsense.
Due to absence from Week 2 (Primal Challenge), tag number moved from 9 to 10. (Week 2 of 8)
*Flutters pink gills* Fine, I'll explain this gravity-dependent nonsense.
In Week 1 (Savage Awakening), the player moved down with tag number changing from 6 to 9. (Week 1 of 8)
Somehow ended up as a disc golf narrator instead of a marine biologist.
Primal Dreadslayer burst from the bowels of an infernal Xerox machine, forged by a rogue game designer who binged 80s action flicks and chugged Monster energy drinks. Born with biceps for brains, this tag's on a mission to throw discs and chew bubblegum... and he's all outta gum. Is this tag merely a cheap Hollywood ripoff or something more sinister? Stay tuned, disc slingers!
sigh Another chosen one story? Fine. Through a series of increasingly unlikely events involving a Stallone movie marathon and a freak disc golf accident, Brandon Schrank was deemed worthy to wield the Primal Dreadslayer. His PDGA number (306686) appeared in neon smoke signals above the course. Will this action hero wannabe live up to the hype, or is this just another direct-to-VHS disaster? Time will tell, if I'm forced to keep narrating this madness.