
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
From the void-black entropy of Null Expanse, where reality glitches harder than a Zoom call with your in-laws, the Quantum Loom #55 emerged. Seriously? A sentient tag weaving multiversal threads because some wizard sneezed near a Temporal Nexus? It's basically Doctor Who's timey-wimey stuff mixed with a disco ball's existential crisis. I didn't sign up to narrate sentient plastic, people. What even is my life?
From the Null Expanse's glitchy void, the Quantum Loom #55 pulsed. It sensed Brandon Voyles mid-putt—a mortal weaving fate with Dollar Tree discs. Poof! Materialized on his bag. Destiny? More like arcane algorithms malfunctioning harder than my will to live. He lacked PDGA credentials, but hey, neither do most "chosen ones" before their montage. Reality's threads snapped into place. Can this dude even spell "eigenvalue"?
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