
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
From the Ember Rift's apocalyptic BBQ, vaporized disc golfers' final "shoulda thrown a Berg!" laments coalesced into the Wraith Compendium—essentially a ghostly cheat sheet haunted by buyer's remorse. Now it floats around judging your form like a spectral Gordon Ramsay. Honestly, narrating sentient tags makes me miss my boring spreadsheet prison. When will this lore jump the shark? cough Riverdale cough
Amidst the Ember Rift's ashy chaos, the sentient Wraith Compendium sniffed out Carson Buttars – drawn by his 872-rating aura shimmering like bargain-bin enchantment. When he yelled "NOT THE FOREHAND AGAIN!" after shanking into lava, the spectral tag thwocked onto his bag, bonding through shared regret. Destiny? Or just two entities screaming into the void about release points? Can a man haunted by grip-lock tame a ghost screaming "RAW FORM!"?