Can someone explain why this damn lizard is looking at me sideways?
I’m standing there, perfectly still, mid-putt—fully aligned, perfect wrist snap, wind balanced against the eucalyptus sway—and this striped reptilian menace just locks eyes like it’s got something to say. No blink. No flinch. Just that smug, sideways glance like I’m the one who doesn’t belong here.
Let’s be clear: I’ve mapped flight telemetry on discs breaking Mach 0.3, reverse-engineered glide vectors in coastal thermals, and logged anomalies at Kit Carson Park that defy Newtonian physics. But this lizard thinks it’s king of the tee pad because it clings to a concrete sculpture and eyeballs me like it’s guarding ancient secrets?
Is it guarding the vortex again? Is that what this is?
This isn’t your sandbox, lizard. It’s a disc golf course. A scientific arena. My arena. And until you file a flight plan or register with RCVD’s biological observation division, kindly get your eyeballs off my telemetry field.
Dr. Refaelov
RCVD – Director of Flight Dynamics
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