
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
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Born when The Brood yeeted a cursed glow disc into Beacon Hill’s swamp – basically that one puddle behind hole 7 that’s 40% Gatorade and 70% existential dread. Absorbed the essence of every Karen who ever argued about OB lines, this sentient algae colony now haunts the fairway like a soggy Voldemort. Yes, we’re doing aquatic horror puns now. The theme is assimilating me. Send help.
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Cheeky cliffhanger: Will next week’s tag be a Glyph… or just another swamp juice smoothie?
In the primordial ooze where Dreadmire Phantom first bubbled into consciousness, Josh Wadley tripped over a tree root and face-planted into Beacon Hill’s signature “swamp” (read: puddle behind the porta-potty). His PDGA#64953 glowed ominously – coincidence or cursed prophecy? The sentient algae crooned “At last, a bearer who understands mud as a lifestyle!” Now bonded via Gatorade-stained khakis, they’ll spend eternity debating OB lines. Truly, the ancients put the ‘sigh’ in SIGIL.
But can this man who once threw a Berg into a birdbath truly wield the Phantom… or will hole 8’s sand trap devour his soul?