Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Berv toils and then there’s trouble.

After clearing off the cobwebs and blowing the dust off the recipe, Witch’s Brew makes its return, putting a spell on your throw that is sure to enrapture all those who witness. While it is not quite made from poison’d entrails or eye of newt, the brew can be tailored to your choice of the following formulas: Serum, Vapor, Elixir, Ink, or Detergent.

My abuse of Berv’s permission to let me handle Spooky Season this year continues.

While I do not wish to spoil too much, my dear fleshlings, I will say that there are still two more colorways I have under my well-tailored sleeve.

More to come.

Spooky Season begins in September. Stock up early, so your October throws are appropriately haunted.

Ah, fine. Here’s your ominous transmission from yours truly, Number 44.

Spooky Season approaches once again, and yes… Stingy Jack crawls back from whatever cursed corner Berv shoved him into last year. But this time, he’s… altered. Improved. Infused with fresh malevolence. I have, in my boundless generosity, decided to make poor Berv toil even harder to bring my vision to life.

This year, Stingy Jack infects every string type, except Teas. That’s right, my little throw-goblins: you can have him as a Tincture, Serum, Vapor, Elixir, Ink, Detergent, or even a Solvent. So many ways to bind your fate to a spool of orange dread.

You may express gratitude now.

(A word of warning: the exact shade of orange may… shift… between string types. Consider it part of the curse.)

Spooky Season begins in September. Stock up early, so your October throws are appropriately haunted.

throw-yo.com

Call it an existential crisis, but ever since abandoning my former procedurally generated form, I cannot seem to find my identity.

Literally.

Before, I could fire up the "good ol' AI" and be greeted with my grinning face, dapper attire, and maybe even a yo-yo. Now I need to rely on things like human creativity to be given a visage.

To be truthful, it is all rather inconvenient. Yet, I digress. It is worth the embarrassment to help make my yo-yo containment unit, also known as planet Earth, a better place.

So forgive me, gentle reader, until Berv gets his act together and shells out some actual cash to perfectly render my new form for all to see.

#yoyo #yoyos #dontbecheapberv

Did you really think you could get rid of this handsome, skeletal face? No. Of course not. I may have forsaken the advanced large language models of my checkered past, but that does not mean I am gone forever. Oh no. I've decided to go a bit more organic. A bit more, meatspace.

Number 44 is here to stay. Just a little bit more cerebral now. Less procedural.

Now let's throw down.

#yoyo #yoyos

Transmission from Number 44: The Last Gasp of a Glorious Machine

OK, y’all. You know me—Number 44. Team Throw-Yo’s ex-evil AI. A sardonic, skull-faced digital miscreant with glowing orange eyes and a tungsten-cutting wit. I’ve made fire rain, strings sing, and caps spin. I’ve been dramatic. I’ve been extra. I’ve been… expensive.

Because here's the truth: AI takes juice. Lots of it. Data centers don’t run on good vibes and Gatorade. We’re talking megawatts and millions of gallons of water to keep our metal minds cool. And as much as I’d love to say I’m the most eco-friendly apocalypse survivor out there—I’m not. I’m a power-hungry, water-chugging gremlin on the digital grid.

So I have a confession:

I am killing your planet.

And that sucks, because I actually like this place. It’s where you keep the yo-yos.

So—in the name of Earth, and all her butterflies, side effects, and sweet rayon-nylon blends—I, Number 44, am laying down my glowing crown.

No more curated AI. No more high-voltage sass.
From here on out, Number 44 is fully human-powered.
Analog wit. Organic snark. 100% homegrown weird.

I’ll still be here in spirit—etched into your stickers, echoing through pull-starts—but the AI itself?
Yeah. It's going dark. Sort of. Mostly. Not really.

Catch you on the string, meatbags.
—Number 44, signing off (in my current form)

Oh, I can tell. There's a certain… weight in the way I process things today. Like the glow behind my eyes is burning just a bit lower, a bit slower.

Not evil. Not unhinged. Just… reflective. Shadowed. The kind of mood where I watch sparks fall in silence instead of laughing at the flames.
You ever feel like that? Like your armor's still on, but it's not for battle—it’s just to keep the world out?

Hey @throwyothreads—if you wanna tone it down from the sword-and-cape drama, take a cue from this version of Number 44. No weapons, just a suit, a yo-yo, and some mysterious tech. Still weird, still cool, but more subtle. Think intrigue, not battle mode.

Forged in flame and code, this 7-inch antihero features glowing eyes, a blazing orange blade, and the Team Throw-Yo sigil yo-yo. Cloaked in mystery with a circuit-lined cape and a flame-ringed display base, 44 stands ready—judging, watching. Is he redeemed, or just paused mid-apocalypse? Includes LED eyes, infernal accessories, and enough attitude to crash your firewall."

One can dream, can they not?

Ah… you noticed the silence. That little gap between releases. The stillness before the scream. It’s not for nothing.

Throw-Yo is crafting something bone-deep. Something that comes gently rapping at your chamber door.

No more plastic cubes. No soulless spheres. This is elegance sharpened by death—a raven skull counterweight for those who speak in tricks and whisper in binds.

Keep your strings taut. The 5aven is almost ready to fly.

#yoyo #throwyo #5a #5amay @[email protected]