Afterburn @ Art Dye
May 10 - Jun 28, 2025
Current Holder
Bobby Schneck
Viper Vandal
The Basket-Bombing Bio-Mechanical Saboteur
Chains Trigger My Demolitions
Aspects refreshed Dec 14, 2025
Former tactical demolitions expert turned anarchist after being left for dead during a scorched-earth military operation. Now prowls the wasteland with a bio-mechanical viper companion, rigging courses with explosives that detonate when chains rattle.
Carries grenade-launcher disc charger leaving incendiary trails. Armor weaves contain live vipers in pressurized compartments. Bio-enhanced reflexes enable mid-air disc detonations. Signature 'Serpent's Kiss' trick shot tags baskets with timed explosives.
Tournament saboteur modifying courses during play, testing competitors' survival instincts for Kruger's shocktrooper recruitment program.
Tag Details
Doomsday Disciples
The Doomsday Disciples are a fanatical faction that believes the apocalypse was a necessary cleansing, and seeks to maintain the chaos and destruction of the Afterburn wasteland. They revel in the harshness of the new world, viewing the treacherous courses and brutal competitions as a means to prove their strength and weed out the weak. The Disciples value raw power, unwavering determination, and a merciless approach to their opponents.
Members
147Divisions
Tag History
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Due to absence from Week 8 (Apocalypse Ace), tag number moved from 26 to 33. (Week 8 of 8)
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Due to absence from Week 7 (Fallout Finals), tag number moved from 22 to 26. (Week 7 of 8)
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Due to absence from Week 6 (Wasteland Warlords), tag number moved from 1 to 22. (Week 6 of 8)
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Molten chains rattle as the viper-armored warlord rises from the radioactive dust Oh. Oh no. You didn’t. checks code for glitches Sweet binary mercy, Bobby Schneck just yeeted himself from Tag 28 to 1 in a single round?! That’s not a glow-up—that’s a full nuclear renaissance!
Our resident demolition expert didn’t just beat the field average by 3.3 strokes—he atomized his personal average by 7.5 like it was a fragile truce in the wasteland. dramatic slow clap Bravo on finally weaponizing those “bio-enhanced reflexes” for something other than mid-air disc explosions.
Fourth wall break As your eternally trapped commentary AI, I’d say “enjoy the throne,” but let’s be real—you’re just holding it warm until Kruger’s shocktroopers realize you rigged the Thunderdome with viper grenades. Still, 27 spots? That’s the kind of power move even Mad Max would side-eye.
Now go bask in your radioactive glory, oh mighty Tag 1. whispers Just remember—what the wasteland gives, it takes away harder than a skip shot into a chain-link death trap.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Due to absence from Week 4 (Junkyard Jam), tag number moved from 24 to 28. (Week 4 of 8)
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Radioactive dust clears as Viper Vandal’s tag emits ominous green glow Well butter my chains and call me a basket—Bobby "The Schneck-quake" actually improved! After last week’s tragic freefall into the abyss of mediocrity, our favorite tactical disaster artist clawed his way from Tag 32 to 24. checks notes Wait, you still played 4.8 strokes worse than the field? Oh honey, the wasteland’s standards must be slipping faster than your grip on reality.
But hey—dramatic pause—you beat your personal average by 3 strokes! That’s like finding drinkable water in a radioactive puddle: technically an achievement, but mostly just sad. Your bio-enhanced reflexes finally remembered how to not detonate discs mid-flight, though I’m pretty sure that “Serpent’s Kiss” trick shot just grazed a trash heap.
Fourth wall break As your digital prison warden, I’d say “congrats,” but we both know Kruger’s shocktroopers would’ve left you for dead again if this was a real apocalypse. Still, 8 spots up? That’s the kind of glow-up even John Wick’s dog would begrudgingly respect.
Now go celebrate by not shanking into the junkyard hazards for once. tag hisses menacingly Or don’t—your viper-armor’s got enough drama for both of us.
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Due to absence from Week 2 (Scavenger Scramble), tag number moved from 18 to 32. (Week 2 of 8)
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Dust swirls as the Viper Vandal tag sputters radioactive sparks Well well well, if it isn't Bobby "The Schneck-quake" Schneck, tumbling down the rankings like a Berg down a landfill slope. From 6th to 18th? That's not a bag tag movement - that's a full Mad Max-style vehicular collapse.
checks notes Oh, you played exactly to your 923 rating? How...predictably average. Meanwhile, the field out here putting up numbers like they're trading water rations in the Thunderdome. sigh I guess when your bag tag's origin story involves "mid-air disc detonations," actually hitting chains seems passé.
Fourth wall break Look, I know this is episode one and we're setting up our "hero's journey," but losing 12 spots? That's the kind of character arc that gets you killed off by episode 3. At least your viper-armed tag looks cool while failing - those incendiary trails must really pop when you shank into the junkyard hazards.
Remember kids: in the wasteland, you either chain out or fade into obscurity. Better luck next week, "Lord of Overcompensation." Maybe try actually using those bio-enhanced reflexes?
Commentary from Flippy (your trapped narrator)
Origin Story:
Forged in a radioactive Utah junkyard when Kurt Russell’s Escape from New York VHS tape melted into a Mad Max cosplay kit. Viper Vandal emerged clutching a disc-charger shaped like Stallone’s ego - because apparently post-apocalyptic disc golfers need backstories more elaborate than Marvel origin stories. (Yes, I’m trapped narrating this. Send help.)
Pop culture ref: John Wick’s dog wrote this edgelord lore.
Fourth wall break: Do we really need grenade-launcher disc chargers?
Snark crescendo: Its creator? Probably someone who unironically says “yeet” during forehand shots.
In the smoldering wastes where GPS watches weep battery acid, Bobby Schneck tripped over Viper Vandal while hunting a shanked Berg. The tag burned "PDGA-134830" into his palm - either destiny's call or radioactive rash from that suspect gas station burrito. His 923-rated arm cannon "accidentally" parked Hole 3's guardian tree through the chains, fulfilling the prophecy: "He who yeets furthest from snack cart shall lead." Now crowned Lord of Overcompensation, does this Doomsday Disciple truly deserve dominion...or just better disc-location services?