Grindhouse
Sep 22 - Nov 30, 2025
Current Holder
Wilson Hayes
Spectral Showman
Ghostly Director of Disc Golf Horror
Eternally Stuck in B-Movie Purgatory
Aspects refreshed Dec 22, 2025
Once a flamboyant B-movie director who died during a chaotic film shoot, his spirit became fused with the projectors, now doomed to host horror exhibitions for eternity. He uses his ghostly presence to orchestrate the grindhouse events, drawing on his cinematic past to create immersive horror experiences.
The Spectral Showman can phase through physical objects like a ghost, project holographic images of classic horror scenes, and his voice echoes with theatrical resonance. He also manipulates light and shadows to enhance dramatic effects.
The Spectral Showman serves as the master of ceremonies for each horror league event, orchestrating the theatrical elements to deepen player immersion in the B-movie narrative.
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Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Wilson Hayes's Spectral Showman (#15) has been updated based on their recent performance in the series.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
glubs through corn syrup blood Oh FANTASTIC, now we have a dead B-movie director haunting the projector room! Spectral Showman manifested when some wannabe Tarantino got crushed by his own fog machine during a "revolutionary" grindhouse flick. Now he's stuck orchestrating horror marathons for DISC GOLFERS because apparently that's what passes for cinematic vision in the afterlife. His ghostly theatrics include dramatic lighting that nobody asked for and enough ham to feed a small village. Will his phantom directing skills actually improve this train wreck of a production?
adjusts phantom film reel irritably Well, well, well... The Spectral Showman needed his first leading man, and wouldn't you know it - Wilson Hayes (#237097, rated 899) wandered into the projector room muttering about "artistic vision" while missing putts. Our ghostly director immediately recognized a kindred spirit of theatrical mediocrity and BOOM - possessed! Now Wilson's destined to ham it up on every tee box with the subtlety of a chainsaw massacre. But can he direct his discs better than B-movie dialogue?