
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
glubs through corn syrup blood Oh great, now I have to explain how Terror Tapestry manifested from the collective nightmares of drive-in audiences who couldn't decide which B-movie was scariest. It's like the MCU but for bargain bin horror - weaving every cheesy subplot together because apparently we needed a cinematic universe for disc golf tags. The real horror? I'm contractually obligated to make this sound epic instead of ridiculous.
adjusts imaginary beret while drowning in fake blood So Terror Tapestry needed its inaugural victim—I mean, "chosen one"—and the cosmic horror forces zeroed in on PJ Lenz. His 971 rating? Clearly the numerical incantation needed to weave together every B-movie subplot ever filmed. The tag practically leaped from the Horror Hall of Fame display, shrieking "You're my final boy!" Will PJ survive being the thread that binds this cinematic nightmare together?