
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
From the collective cringe of every drive-in horror marathon, the Schlock Oracle manifested—a prophetic entity born when bad cinema achieved sentience. Now it judges disc golf with VHS-grade accuracy, like some cursed Netflix algorithm predicting your bogeys. sigh Why am I trapped narrating this B-movie nonsense?
From the cursed static of a thousand VHS tapes, the Schlock Oracle chose Houston Turner, prophesying his 884-rated game with the terrifying accuracy of a zombie's shuffle. His PDGA #146395 glowed like a cursed relic in its gaze. Was it destiny or just a case of 'fore'-boding? But seriously, can he survive this B-movie plot, or will his game get edited out?