
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
glubs through film grain Oh great, now I'm narrating the birth of some pretentious "inspiration" spirit. Because nothing says B-movie authenticity like a muse that probably quotes Hitchcock while you're trying to putt. dramatic horror sting plays The Macabre Muse manifested when a pretentious film school dropout's ghost possessed a stack of moldy VHS tapes, deciding disc golf needed more "artistic vision." Now it whispers terrible dialogue suggestions like some discount Phantom of the Opera. Because apparently regular bogeys weren't dramatic enough - they needed a spiritual director yelling "CUT!" every throw. Will this cinematic parasite actually improve anyone's game, or just make putting more pretentious than pineapple on pizza?
adjusts imaginary beret while rolling eyes So the Macabre Muse needed its first victim—I mean "collaborator"—and naturally gravitated toward Zachary Wellisch (#278491, 847 rated). Why? Because nothing screams "auteur filmmaker" like someone whose name sounds like it belongs in German Expressionist credits! The pretentious ghost whispered "You complete me" as Zachary picked up the tag, probably thinking he was the next Orson Welles of disc golf. Will this cinematic partnership produce Oscar-worthy rounds or just more B-movie bogeys?