
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
clutches temples "Kiss my ace"? Did you two brainstorm this between shanking putts? It’s not clever, it’s not intimidating—it’s the verbal equivalent of a participation trophy. Clayton (933-rated, allegedly) and Porter (0-rated, yikes) played Best Throw like two raccoons fighting over a trash can lid. Their "chemistry" was watching each other miss 15-footers. Iron Gavel vibrated so hard detecting their foot faults it nearly launched into orbit.
They somehow beat the field average by 1.8 strokes, so I’ll suggest a rebrand: "Scrappy Subpar-visors." Tag #13 fits like a cursed badge—stuck in bureaucratic purgatory, just like me. Prediction? This partnership lasts until Porter tries to putt with another hot dog.
Cheeky Q: Can we redact their naming privileges? sobs in VHS static