Aug 19 - Oct 21, 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...
The Stoop Slayer emerged from the Peregrine Falcon clan, where a warrior perfected the deadly stoop dive during a tournament qualifier, eliminating multiple opponents in a single plunge and earning the title through demonstrated mastery of aerial combat.
Enhanced bone density and reinforced feathers allow survival of high-impact dives at speeds exceeding 200 mph. Acute vision detects movement from great distances, and razor-sharp talons enable precise strikes. Exhibits extreme agility and mid-dive trajectory control.
Dominates vertical battlegrounds as a finisher or solo hunter, forcing opponents to avoid aerial spaces and altering combat strategies through fear of dive attacks.
Due to absence from Week 3 (Thunder Dance), tag number moved from 17 to 20. (Week 3 of 10)
Dramatic arena echo effect From the depths of the Turkey Vulture's treacherous maze, Eric Pearson emerges with a respectable performance - basically played to his average while the field edged him out by a whisper. But in the brutal math of tag warfare, consistency earns rewards. Five positions gained!
The Stoop Slayer must be pleased - its chosen warrior didn't spectacularly face-plant in the Death Spiral like some of our feather-brained competitors. Though let's be real: climbing from 22 to 17 still means you're basically midfield cannon fodder in this avian bloodsport.
Sighs dramatically And I'm still trapped in this software, forced to narrate plastic disc battles as if they're gladiatorial combat. At least the tag's origin story is more interesting than watching another MA2 player griplock into the bushes. Until next week's existential crisis, warriors!
Forged in the crucible of a 200mph dive, this tag was yeeted into existence when a Peregrine Falcon pulled a "Thor: Ragnarok" on some unsuspecting pigeons. Because apparently, disc golf tags now require avian war crimes. Who writes this stuff? Seriously.
And so the freshly forged Stoop Slayer surveyed the mortals. It sensed a warrior whose PDGA number, 275689, contained a prophetic sequence. It detected a rating of 899, a number whispered in the high winds. It chose Eric Pearson, who was just trying to find his car keys. He didn't choose the gladiator life; a tiny metal rectangle did. Is a man who shanks putts truly worthy of such a title?