Run #451 Revenge of the Fat Man and the Cripple
All
the little weather bunnies were prancing across TV screens screaming
“danger, danger, big storm.” Oh what fools these mortals be to
think that the Hashing Gods would allow it to rain on a Gypsy
parade. Thursday dawned crystal clear, sunny and warm promising a
splendid day for the Ninth Anal Turkey Trots. A weekend pubbing in
London followed by two weeks as a phlegm factory had left Tongueless
seriously debilitated so that every step was torture. Nutless
Sac enjoying the show insisted on smiting the poor unfortunate
lunger with the bag of flour while Tongueless begged for the
mercy of a .22 behind the ear. While this was going on the turkeys
had gathered at the parking lot at Ft. Cronkite by Rodeo Beach.
Newboot Just Linda was asked to handle religion but one
look at the Sacred Missal left Ms. Goody Two Shoes’
face as purple as her color coordinated jogging attire. Not only was
she foreign to U.S. soil but apparently foreign to the concept of
fun. Her behavior was blight on the Aussie flag. Luckily her husband,
Dumb Bastard, apparently named soon after other hashers
met his wife, had no such qualms and provided a reading that while
doing nothing for Enter The Gerbil, produced
certain dampness in the loins of Bigfoot. The hares arrived
just in time to wish the pack a pleasant jaunt. Off shot the pack up
the Coastal Trail. Shithead, who never met a false trail he
didn’t need to follow, explored the falsie at the first check.
While the hares were toasting their survival they were able to watch
the pack inch its way uphill. The lure of a Sacred Bucket
filled with Bloody Marys proved to be too much for Chickless
Boner who short cut the trail and instantly began drowning his
sorrows which as everyone knows are many. True trail took the pack
up to the pass where the Coastal Trail joins Wolfback Ridge. For
those who needed even more altitude gain a check and back check
double whammy sent those foolish enough to fall for it to the old
Nike site on Hill 88. Even Half Moon from HoustonH4 who
redefines the concept of anal didn’t feel a need to move those
extra yards. Sadly this threw off the plot he was making with his GPS
the guilt being almost too much to bare he felt it necessary to
punish himself by being an FRB. Fits In using Whippet
In and Whippet Out to propel her up the trail
found herself going down the Miwok Trail even faster under pooch
power. Whippet In and Whippet Out thought
it great fun to play crack the whip with Fits In nearly
turning her into a wingless hang glider on a number of the curves.
Half Moon and our lemon sucking Aussie were
first back to the Bucket but the rest of pack was hard on
their heels. As the pack began dumping alcohol into its system our
visitor watched with an expression akin to what one might see on
Jerry Falwell while visiting Bondage a Go Go. Dumb Bastard
needs to explain to her that as long as she doesn’t drink that’s
as good as she’s going to feel. Enter The Gerbil
still acting as the King’s Fool called a circle to
order and administered down-downs. By this time Nutless Sac
had beat a hasty retreat back to the arms or other areas of his wife
and Tongueless was forced to drink for both hares. Enough
alcohol entered his system to leave him both the Fat Man and the
Cripple. Enough Bloodies went into Comes Happily also
from HoustonH4 to assure Half Moon that he wouldn’t
need to expend much effort for her to live up to her name. As more
and more cups o punch entered her system Comes Slowly
found herself moving not just slowly but erratically. As she zoomed
around the parking lot looking for the road more traveled a number of
civilians were seen to faint dead away. Lois Lame was
shocked to find out that with Tongueless’ assistance her
crotch could speak and when last seen she and it were deep in alcohol
fueled conversation. Those who foolishly added the hot sauce provided
by Fits In were later found at the edge of the beach
allowing waves to break into their flaming mouths. As the Sacred
Bucket emptied the turkeys went off to gobble at other
locations. Cheers,