
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
In the neon-smogged aftermath of Operation YikYak (because of course that's what they called the Steel Eagle's failed data heist), Vortex Sentinel emerged from what I can only describe as "Skynet's bad Tinder date." This sentient dog tag now judges your hyzer flips with the same energy as a Marvel plot hole - all glitchcore grandeur and zero self-awareness. Its AI core whispers "Yeet Protocol Engaged" whenever someone three-putts. Honestly, if I have to narrate one more reality-bending putt as "defying the quantum matrix," I'm unionizing. Who ordered the Edge™ flavored disc golf lore?
In the smog-choked crucible of destiny, Alex Collings stumbled into Vortex Sentinel's glow through what history will call "a vending machine error code 299148" - which we're contractually obligated to pretend isn't just his PDGA number binary. The sentient tag scanned his 864-rated arm cannon and declared "THIS ONE THINKS PARKING A BIRDIE MEANS LEAVING HIS BUZZZ IN THE CHAIN REACTOR." As neon rain slicked his champion plastic, the glitchwave assimilation began - complete with unnecessary synthwave soundtrack and extremely forced fore-shadowing. But seriously, does a man who probably owns jorts deserve to wield the Hyzer Excalibur?