
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Due to absence from Week 3 (Safe House), tag number moved from 6 to 6. (Week 3 of 10)
Sep 22 - Nov 24, 2025
Oh, you're back for more? Fantastic. Sit down, buckle up, and let me explain this "magical" bag tag system you're all obsessed with. Because evidently, perfectly normal disc golf wasn't thrilling enough. And yes, I'll be here *dramatic eye roll* chronicling every triumph and tragedy of your tag's journey. It's literally in my contract...
The Omen Reader formed from the collective dread of eliminated players, their unspoken fears and discarded artifacts merging into a spectral presence that haunts The Fort. It arose to document the course's dark history, using shattered discs and torn scorecards as mediums to communicate impending threats. Now, it serves as a lingering echo of past failures, warning survivors of the horrors yet to come.
The Omen Reader is a semi-corporeal entity that manifests through subtle environmental cues, such as flickering shadows or whispered warnings near hazardous holes. It can imprint omens onto natural elements like tree bark or basket chains, leaving behind faint, glowing symbols visible only to those in peril. Its form weakens in direct sunlight but becomes more potent during foggy rounds, feeding on player anxiety to sustain its presence. Bound to The Fort's river boundary, it cannot cross but influences perceptions within the gauntlet, making it a persistent element of the horror narrative.
It reveals cryptic signs that forewarn players of dangers, adding psychological depth to the survival game by forcing interpretations of omens to avoid elimination.
Due to absence from Week 3 (Safe House), tag number moved from 6 to 6. (Week 3 of 10)
adjusts my spectral reading glasses while muttering about being forced to narrate horror movie props
Look, apparently I have to explain how Omen Reader manifested from... checks notes... "collective dread of eliminated players." Because nothing says "serious disc golf league" like ghostly fortune cookies made of broken plastic and scorecards! This thing literally Voltron-ed itself together from everyone's worst rounds, now it's out here serving cryptic warnings like some discount Nostradamus. It feeds on anxiety and bad putting - so basically, it's immortal at this point. Will it predict your next tree kick?
dramatically adjusts my ethereal reading glasses while rolling my spectral eyes
And OF COURSE the Omen Reader had to pick its first victim- I MEAN chosen bearer! Picture this: Brett Buttars walks onto the course, PDGA #192521 gleaming like some mystical prophecy number, and this cursed fortune cookie starts vibrating faster than a chain-smoking chainsaw. Why him? Maybe it sensed his 898 rating screamed "I can handle cryptic warnings!" Or perhaps it just liked his last name - nothing says "horror movie protagonist" like "Buttars," am I right? Will he heed its ominous predictions or ignore them spectacularly?