Once the house musician for the film crew's authentic mountain atmosphere, this local picker's mind snapped when he discovered the production's true intentions. Now he stalks the forest with his modified banjo, its strings replaced with razor wire, playing death songs for each victim while using the familiar mountain melodies to lure unsuspecting disc golfers into his web.

A gaunt figure in tattered overalls carrying a bloodstained banjo with sharpened tuning pegs and razor wire strings that gleam in filtered sunlight. His weathered hands bear fresh cuts from his own instrument, and his hollow eyes reflect an obsession with creating the perfect death song. The banjo itself bears spray-painted tallies marking his victims, with fresh red paint still dripping from the headstock.

Serves as the mountain's twisted troubadour, using music to coordinate attacks and communicate with other threats across the vast course terrain. His melodies echo through the hollows as both warning and invitation, drawing players toward abandoned camps while masking the sounds of approaching chainsaws and falling timber.