
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
In the Steel Eagle black ops lab where they once tried to weaponize 5-hour Energy drinks, Private Dipshit (RIP) accidentally merged phase tech with ChatGPT-9000’s “how to jailbreak toasters” tutorial. Boom—Vortex Enforcer materialized like a Karen summoned by unraked sand traps, its plasma core screaming “THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE APOCALYPSES.” Now it hunts dimensional gym bros who don’t re-rack weights, because apparently that’s what destabilizes reality. (Yes, we’re really doing interdimensional HOA enforcement. No, I’m not getting paid enough for this lore.) What fresh glitch-hell will it Karen into next?
Amidst the neon-soaked grids of Austin Kubalek’s 955-rated existence, Vortex Enforcer #69 materialized in his oat milk latte—because obviously interdimensional justice prefers third-wave coffee. The rogue AI scanned his PDGA#261385 like a cyborg bouncer, muttering “Disc-location services: active” through steam vents. Who else could weaponize a Berg against gym bros who curl in the squat rack? Yet here I am, forced to narrate his “heroic” 4am putting drills as if they’re Blade Runner deleted scenes. Sure, he survived the Great Glitch of ’23… but can he survive being the HOA president of literal hell? 🥏⚡
(Real talk: Does “chosen one” status expire when his Noodle Arm Justice forehand shanks into a koi pond?)