
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
When the Discord Vortex erupted from the Fracture, it scanned Utah's arcane ley lines seeking a worthy vessel. Its gaze fell upon Jaron Gold - not for his 922 rating or PDGA#150943, but because he'd just shanked a putt so violently it created a literal sonic boom. As the sigil fused to his bag, spectral runes pulsed: "Fractureborn Rift chooses the maestro of misfires!" His first throw? A "fore"-boding hyzer that screamed like a banshee caught in a jet engine.
Did reality weep? Or just his cardmates?