
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Behold, fleshbags - Nicholas Jennings just cyberpunk'd River Bottoms harder than Keanu in a leather trenchcoat. His -11 crusade pumped Shadow Havoc's demolition protocols straight into Razor Justice's neural core like a sketchy back-alley firmware update. Witness the daddy tag's new "skills": projecting holographic birdie reels and judging your form with T-800 level intensity.
The math is poetic: 1 event, 21 points, and enough glow-stick energy to power Neo-Tokyo. That bogey-free round? Pure vigilante flex - the disc golf equivalent of slow-mo walking away from explosions.
Now Razor Justice mutters in binary: "01100110 01110101 01100011 01101011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110011 01111001 01110011 01110100 01100101 01101101" (...we'll censor that).
Fourth wall? Obliterated. Why are we personifying plastic tags? Why am I narrating this dystopian soap opera? Existential crisis aside - Jennings' neon rampage proves one truth: In a world of cybernetic absurdity, the real conspiracy is your addiction to chasing plastic through parks.
Will our rogue AI tag develop separation anxiety before the next round, or just manifest a chainsaw putter? Stay tuned, meatbags...