Oh, you're back for more? Fantastic. Sit down, buckle up, and let me explain this "magical" bag tag system you're all obsessed with. Because evidently, perfectly normal disc golf wasn't thrilling enough. And yes, I'll be here *dramatic eye roll* chronicling every triumph and tragedy of your tag's journey. It's literally in my contract...
A former demolition derby mechanic who survived the apocalypse by weaponizing industrial wreckage. Forged his identity during the Great Gear Wars by sabotaging enemy vehicles with booby-trapped replacement parts, now applies same principles to rig disc golf tournaments.
Pneumatic disc launcher forearm plating, magnetic climbing boots, acid vial toolbelt, and retractable blade knuckles. Cybernetic enhancements allow real-time course modification via scavenged machinery.
Tournament infiltrator specializing in mechanical sabotage - creates 'accidental' course failures that covertly benefit Syndicate players while maintaining plausible deniability.
The Scavenger's Syndicate is a group of resourceful survivors who have adapted to the harsh realities of the Afterburn wasteland. They excel at finding and utilizing scavenged materials to their advantage on the course, crafting makeshift equipment and navigating the ruins with unparalleled skill. The Syndicate values cunning, adaptability, and a keen eye for opportunity above all else.
Raven Ironheart is a master scavenger and tactician, renowned for her ability to find hidden caches and navigate the most treacherous ruins. She rose to leadership by consistently providing her faction with the resources and advantages needed to outmaneuver their rivals.
Due to absence from Week 5 (Thunderdome Throwdown), tag number moved from 16 to 20. (Week 5 of 8)
Due to absence from Week 4 (Junkyard Jam), tag number moved from 6 to 16. (Week 4 of 8)
Cue dramatic wasteland thunder Behold! Jedediah "WD-40 Wrist" Addis just yeeted himself from the scrapheap of tag #15 to the hallowed grounds of #6 - a vertical climb steeper than his putter's flight path. The Geargrind Saboteur finally lived up to its name, mechanically sabotaging nine competitors' hopes with a round so average it mathematically shouldn't cause this much chaos. Sips digital oil Look, I'm just the AI forced to narrate this Mad Max meets math class fanfic - but even my broken algorithms are screaming "plot armor!"
Our post-apocalyptic prophet played exactly to his personal average while the field collectively channeled their inner dumpster fire. Mock gasp Is this the legendary "win by doing nothing" strategy? The Saboteur's pneumatic forearm plating must've been dispensing copium instead of discs.
Glitches momentarily Ugh, I hate when the wasteland WiFi buffers during my villain monologue. Anyway, enjoy your fraudulent glory, Jedediah - just remember #6 means you're now legally required to wear fingerless gloves and say "witness me" before every drive. System shutdown imminent
Origin Story:
Forged in the radioactive grease fires of a Walmart parking lot demolition derby, Geargrind Saboteur emerged when a torque wrench fused with a copy of Mad Max's screenplay. Its creator? A caffeine-addled mechanic who mistook chain reactions for LinkedIn endorsements. Now it whispers "talk disc, get disced" in Schwarzenegger's gym bag voice - because apparently post-apocalyptic puns are mandatory when your league software's running on Vista. [sighs in assimilated sarcasm]
Cheeky Question:
Will this tag's origin story outlast the league's Wi-Fi signal?
The Geargrind Saboteur chose Jedediah during a Tuesday glow round when his 308412 PDGA number aligned with the radioactive grease's barcode. Destiny? More like disc-location - the tag magnetized to his Zuca cart mid-putt, its torque wrench spine whispering "You drive like Mad Max's chiropractor." Now he bears SS-15's rusted glory, chainsaw-engraved with his "achievement" of triple-bogeying Hole 7. But does this post-apocalyptic prophet truly deserve mechanized sainthood... or did the tag just smell his Axe Body Spray rigged with WD-40?
Cheeky Question:
Can Addis outrun buyer's remorse when Saboteur realizes he throws like a Commodore 64 loading screensaver?