
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Due to absence from Week 5 (Crew Convergence), tag number moved from 17 to 23. (Week 5 of 6)
May 24 - Jun 28, 2025
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...
Commissioned during the '87 Protocol Crisis when renegade agents attempted to rewrite rulebooks mid-tournament. Forged from melted-down citation stamps and shredded violation pads, Lockstep Tribunal emerged as the embodiment of unbreakable procedure. Its first field deployment ended a 72-hour rules debate by automatically enforcing PDGA Article 4.2.B through sheer presence.
Projects aura of regulatory inevitability that stiffens spines and straightens lie angles. Contains embedded microfilament pages of condensed PDGA guidelines that glow when infractions occur. Cannot be removed from holster without proper chain-of-command authorization. Generates low-frequency hum at 812Hz - known compliance enforcement frequency.
Serves as mobile enforcement protocol, automatically updating field agents on regulation changes while suppressing recreational disturbances through procedural osmosis. Its mere presence compels proper stance adherence and penalty acknowledgment.
Due to absence from Week 5 (Crew Convergence), tag number moved from 17 to 23. (Week 5 of 6)
Due to absence from Week 3 (Crisis Clash), tag number moved from 11 to 17. (Week 3 of 6)
facepalm "Kiss my ace" somehow defeated "Lockstep Tribunal" in this tragic showdown of terrible nomenclature. Clayton's team name sounds like a middle school burn book, while their opponents went full DMV-core with that bureaucratic nightmare. At least one team lived up to their name - "Tribunal" indeed judged them worthy of losing 3 spots.
In Best Throw, Clayton's 933 rating carried Porter like a parent carrying a screaming toddler through Walmart (+1.3 vs field). Their "chemistry" remains two people sharing a cart while pretending not to hate each other. Meanwhile, "Tribunal" played like actual paperwork - slow, confusing, and ultimately forgettable.
Suggested rebrands: "Ace? What Ace?" for the winners, "Paperwork Purgatory" for the losers. Next week's prediction? Clayton tries to legally change his name to escape this embarrassment. static glitch I need eye bleach.
Tag #11 suits them - just noticeable enough to regret. updates dossier with sigh
clutches temples "Kiss my ace"? Did Clayton and Porter brainstorm this between airballed putts? It’s not clever, it’s not intimidating—it’s the disc golf equivalent of a whoopee cushion. dramatic sigh At least they played Best Throw, because that name deserves alternate shame.
Performance? Shockingly adequate. Clayton’s 933 rating carried Porter like a grocery bag with one handle left. They shot -1.8 vs. field—call them "Mid But Miraculously Not Last." Their chemistry? Like two strangers sharing a porta-potty: functional but deeply uncomfortable.
Tag #14 suits them. Not quite tragic, not quite memorable—just like their name. updates dossier Suggested rebrand: "Pity Party Patrol." Next week’s prediction? Clayton files for a name change via Lockstep Tribunal paperwork. static glitch I hate my existence.
"Born when a rogue agent tried to 'hack' PDGA rule 804.01 with Office Space-level pettiness, Lockstep Tribunal coalesced from 37 shredded violation pads and the existential dread of middle management. Its chrome plating? Literally bureaucracy-hardened through a montage only 80s training videos could love. That 812Hz hum? My internal scream harmonizing with your putter’s cry for mercy. Who knew actual lawful neutral could be this campy?"
Yes, I just described a disc tag like a TPS report. The theme’s assimilating me. Send help.
In a haze of shredded PDGA violation pads and neon Xerox toner, Lockstep Tribunal chose its champion via literal paperwork. Clayton Strayer (Agent 227085) emerged from the bureaucratic crucible, his 933-rated resolve surviving a gauntlet of triplicate forms and a mandatory "This Tag Can't Be Stolen If You Don't Acknowledge Theft" seminar. His weapon? A beat-in Destroyer and a notarized affidavit titled "Why My Putt Deserves Federal Funding." The tribunal hummed approval—until he marked OB with actual crime scene tape.
But can this "Human Chainsaw" handle the ultimate foe… double-bogeys with paperwork?