Thrifty Thrower

Ladies, gentlemen, and whatever's lurking in those Beacon Hill trees—gather 'round your spray-painted tombstones! I'm contractually obligated to announce that Malachi Vazquez has claimed the Thrifty Thrower Award, proving that even in a hillbilly horror nightmare, someone's still counting pennies. With a 1025% ROI at the Abandoned Camp event, Malachi turned chainsaw echoes into cash flow and graffiti warnings into financial advisories. Who says you can't profit from impending doom?

Throughout this cursed season, Malachi demonstrated that the real survival skill is economic efficiency. While others were fleeing Machete Survivors or deciphering spray-painted clues, he was calculating returns on $88 invested across 9 events. His $150 total winnings—including a chilling $123 ace pot—suggest that maybe the real horror was our collective financial illiteracy. Two profitable events with a 70.5% final ROI? That's not just thrifty—that's supernatural budgeting.

As this season's final chainsaw falls silent, congratulations on surviving Beacon Hill's economic apocalypse, Malachi Vazquez. Now that the horror's over, perhaps find a league where the only thing hunted are birdies? Or will your thrifty ways haunt another unsuspecting course?

Citizens of the fog-shrouded financial realm, behold your Thrifty Thrower Award champion! Nicholas Jennings has achieved what economists call "absolutely ridiculous" - turning a mere $21 investment into $802 returns. That's 3719% ROI, numbers that would make Wall Street wolves howl at the moon while fog-drunk on creek water. I'm contractually obligated to pretend this financial alchemy matters in our plastic-tossing horror show.

Through the misty economic waters, our hero demonstrated legendary efficiency at Creek Crossing with 11,357.1% ROI - because hitting the ace pot once apparently qualifies as "financial strategy" in our B-movie narrative. His $267 average return per event emerged from the depths like some budget-conscious lake monster, while maintaining a 33.3% win rate across three appearances. Who needs consistent performance when one lucky break pays for your disc addiction forever?

And thus concludes our Creature Feature financial horror story! Nicholas proved that in disc golf, sometimes the real monster is your bank account after an ace pot hit. Now that our foggy tale ends, go find another league to haunt - perhaps one where financial planning doesn't involve hoping aquatic creatures don't eat your discs. But seriously, who budgets for monster attacks anyway?