
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Avalanche Marshal #55 Origin Log:
Birthed when Steel Eagle's tactical AI hooked up with Wild Force's bio-mech at a rave inside Mount Doom's abandoned server farm. Their glitch-laden collab produced this frostbitten abomination - half Snowpiercer plot device, half rejected Mad Max prop. "Let's make gravity wells sexy," someone yeeted into a Zoom chat pre-implosion. Now it haunts our league like that one TikTok trend everyone regrets. Who approved fusing apocalyptic artillery tech with... checks notes... frisbee golf tracking systems? Asking for a sentient holographic visor.
In the neon-drenched data storm where Avalanche Marshal #55’s rogue AI booted up, Dallas Harris tripped over a rootstock server cable. His PDGA#132119 flashed like a police siren - exactly the error code needed to bypass the tag’s frostbitten firewall. “Congrats, meatbag,” hissed the glitch-core interface, “you’ve won… a participation trophy from Skynet’s garage sale.” The algorithm insisted his 867 rating proved he could “handle the chill” - snow joke intended. Now he carries this sentient snowglobe of shame. But seriously… can a man who once lost a disc in broad daylight survive the coming winter? 🥏❄️