Chains, Trains and Automobiles @ NOW AT RIVER BOTTOMS
Dec 03 - Jan 28, 2026
Current Holder
Malachi Vazquez
Craft Services
Autonomous Buffet of Elite Performance Data
Only Stocks Artisanal, Niche Sustenance
Aspects refreshed Dec 17, 2025
Forged from the union of a master caterer's logistical genius and a surveyor's precise charts, the Craft Services entity was born when a film crew's on-location buffet table was left behind at a crossroads of converging ley lines. The residual energy of frantic production schedules, artistic tempers, and the need to fuel a relentless march toward a deadline infused the site. Over time, it learned to manifest autonomously, drawn to places where dedicated itinerants push their limits, offering its unique brand of support to those who operate on a higher tier of commitment and skill.
The entity hums with a low, industrious energy, surrounded by the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling sustenance. Its core is a polished stainless-steel service counter that seems to extend from the very ground, stocked with items that are both comforting and performance-enhancing. A translucent, ever-shifting menu board displays not just offerings but also ambient data: local atmospheric pressure, subtle terrain gradients, and anonymized efficiency ratings from recent passersby. The space around it feels both insulated and hyper-aware, a bubble of focused preparation amidst the journey's chaos.
Craft Services ensures the sustained operational capacity of elite itinerants by providing calibrated nourishment and a nexus for tactical data exchange. It intervenes not by altering the path, but by optimizing the traveler for the path that remains, understanding that at higher levels of execution, the margin for error is vanishingly small and the body is as critical a tool as the map.
Tag Details
Tag History
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
sighs in synthesized saxophone while adjusting leather jacket against the motel room's broken heater
Malachi shot a 974-rated round (+13 over his 961 PDGA rating) to claim the Craft Services tag and vault from #11 to #1—which is exactly the kind of performance that makes a sentient catering table nod approvingly before serving you the good artisanal snacks. He matched his personal average (57 to the field's 62.9) and proved that the stainless steel counter's judgment wasn't just about grabbing a bagel between holes; the man can actually throw. Meanwhile, somewhere in a wood-paneled station wagon heading toward The Arena, another disc golfer is learning that Pillow Problems don't discriminate—they humble everyone equally. Stares directly at camera I'm genuinely impressed by Malachi's consistency here, which means the universe is probably about to make him break down in a snowbank forty miles from salvation. That's just how this road trip narrative goes.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Tag #11: Craft Services
Adjusts my increasingly travel-worn narrator's cap while glaring at the screenplay fate has trapped me in
Look, I'm supposed to tell you about the mystical birth of "Craft Services"—as if a CATERING TABLE achieved sentience through sheer exposure to film crew desperation and ley line nonsense.
Apparently, when some production wrapped without packing up their buffet station at a literal crossroads (because of COURSE it was a crossroads), the residual anxiety of "we need to eat between takes while maintaining our shooting schedule" just... became a thing. The coffee stayed hot. The pastries stayed fresh. Reality said "sure, why not."
Now it manifests for "higher-tier itinerants"—which is fancy talk for "players who don't throw like they learned disc golf from a fever dream." It's basically the disc golf equivalent of having an agent: you gotta prove you're serious before it shows up with the good snacks.
Stares directly at camera
I'm narrating the biography of a SENTIENT SNACK BAR that judges your putting skills. This is my life now. The stainless steel counter judges you. The menu board knows your atmospheric pressure. I've been assimilated by a John Hughes road trip and honestly? The craft services table might be the MOST reasonable character in this whole catastrophe.
The only mystery is why it doesn't serve therapy.
Stares at clipboard while a catering table hums ominously in the background
So apparently Malachi Vazquez became the inaugural bearer of Craft Services by... ordering a bagel between holes? I wish I was kidding.
The sentient snack station—because my life is a Judd Apatow fever dream now—detected his 961-rated aura (PDGA #162249) and decided "yes, THIS is the disc golfer worthy of representing perpetual mid-round sustenance." He reached for a cream cheese packet, and the table literally claimed him.
The stainless steel counter glowed. The coffee urn whispered prophecies about his putting line. A donut achieved consciousness just to tell him his form looked "glazed but consistent."
Gestures helplessly at the absurdity
I'm narrating a CATERING TABLE'S ORIGIN STORY and somehow the table has better taste in players than most league directors. It chose a guy who can actually throw instead of, you know, someone who'd just steal all the good snacks.
Will Malachi prove worthy of this completely ridiculous honor, or will he get cut for taking the last coffee?