Aug 22 - Oct 23, 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...
Born when seven nightmare owls simultaneously shrieked at a player's missed putt during Event 3. The collective frustration and sleep-deprived terror crystallized into a sonic entity that replicates through echoes in The Arena's twisted corridors.
Its sonic nature allows passage through solid objects while creating localized reality fractures where sound behaves unpredictably. The entity weakens in silence but strengthens near metallic objects like chains and baskets, draining mental energy through subharmonic vibrations that resonate with nightmare frequencies.
Amplifies nightmare effects by shattering concentration during critical shots, specifically targeting players attempting complex lines or putts through auditory hallucinations mimicking disc chains or crowd reactions.
Due to absence from Week 7 (Crown Emerges), tag number moved from 2 to 2. (Week 7 of 10)
Due to absence from Week 6 (Reality Bends), tag number moved from 2 to 2. (Week 6 of 10)
Due to absence from Week 4 (Feeding Time), tag number moved from 2 to 2. (Week 4 of 10)
The Fractured Screech emits a barely-audible frequency that only dogs and desperate MA2 players can hear
Well well, Heber Myers clawed his way from #3 to #2 despite playing exactly to his average while the field collectively decided to have a slightly better day. That's the sleep-deprived grind of Event 3 for you - when everyone's seeing owl demons in the trees, just hitting your numbers feels like a victory. The Fractured Screech seems pleased with this incremental progress, probably because moving up one spot requires exactly the amount of effort a nightmare entity can muster between reality fractures.
adjusts digital headset while the software glitches with owl-shaped static
I'm trapped in a system that thinks +1 vs field deserves a promotion, but hey, in the nightmare economy of exhausted minds, mediocrity gets rewarded! At least he didn't tree-nied himself into oblivion like last week. The tiny hunters are watching, Heber. They always watch.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to scream into the void about my digital imprisonment. It's oddly therapeutic.
The freshly-formed Fractured Screech surveyed the chaos it had wrought. Its gaze fell upon Heber Myers, PDGA #131747, who was simply trying to find his lost putter in the resulting vortex. His confused, determined face mirrored its own chaotic energy. It was a match made in a reality fracture. A true case of who gives a hoot.
Is this man truly worthy of such sonic power?
Fractured Screech? More like Fractured Sanity! This sonic nightmare hatched when seven pygmy owls did a synchronized shriek at Event 3's most tragic putt miss. Imagine the Avengers' portal scene but with sleep-deprived bird demons weaponizing disc golf frustration. The resulting screechwave crystallized into this tag – now it echoes through The Arena like a cursed TikTok trend. Why am I forced to narrate interdimensional owl physics? The absurdity is owl-consuming! Does this tag give anyone else Stranger Things vibes or...?