THE SLAP
Christmas in September, Garden Gnome Gnight, Exquisite Cuisine with matching hand-picked wines laid on by Hash, free down-down beers donated by the establishment, original and new carols, the weather cleared for the well set run; What could possibly upset the mellow Hash bliss?
THE SLAP ! become the talking point of the night. Who saw what?? Who heard what?? Who did what, and when, and why??
Mountie was freed of her many worries concerning the weather, the incessant springtime Ballarat drizzle, whether or not the trail would be washed out when time to run actually hit. A quorum attended (she promised the owner and chef 25 plates), with more at the drink stop. Eight hardy souls actually followed the running trail, which meandered through alleyways and carparks, along the shiggy trails of the Yarrowee, up towards the Sovereign Hill and into the fabulous east before doubling back along both sides of Steinfeld and through car parks up to the drink stop.... where else but at Dan Murphy's. The ever resourceful Pus Bucket was just removing the cold drinks from the checkout counter when the majority of the athletes turned up. Some were so desperate for a drink that they followed him into the coolroom, but none offered to help him pay....
And no, Pus Bucket did not slap.
Most of the 8 runners managed to short cut the run, Chriss Cross and Nummy Nummy Num Num, in particular missed the fabulous east; The Bill managed to shorten the run along the Yarrowee; Rowdy and Dumb and Dumber tried a long cut for good measure, all successful in their attempts to piss off the run setter.....
And no, Mountie did not slap.
The down-downs worked well without ever reaching the heights. The Bill is now very comfortable in his role as Rose Gold Grandmaster, and managed to delegate Rowdy to screw, Dumb to be Sergeant, and Plucka to be the fall Guy....
But no, Plucka Duck did not slap.
Half a bar and Bar Liquor were farken welcomed back. Donuts was welcomed back and given a drink for growing a beard for the theme night. Flo Jo was charged in absentia for apologising for an October run because she would be overseas in February. Pus Bucket tried to explain science to Rear Entry, unsuccessfully. Normal was charged for being a c-unt; he drank on his own; nothing changes..
But no, Normal did not slap.
Heavy sent in his screw song, to the tune of 'Fly like an Eagle' by the Steve Miller Band. Some knew the song, unfortunately not the ones who were charged to sing it. Anyway, "Mountie squarks like a seagull" was the theme, and appropriate too because Snag has may duties, and the nature chorus from the real gulls on top of rebel sports added to the harmony.
Christmas carols followed in some sort of order, " 'Kwak' the Herald Angels sing, Plucka Duck has turned to sin. ", was rude and appropriate. 'We wish you a Fluid Movement' may need a little work...
But no, Plucka Duck did not slap.
The meal was exquisite, even SOS got seconds - seagull scraps but no complaint. All enjoyed the selections of wine, though half a bar had to pay for his excess.Gnome beards and hats were supplied for those slack enough to not dress up, although Glider in an Essendon jumper had many puzzled. Hymen, as always, was perfect, looking like a cherubic devil, but isn't that what a hymen represents? Heaven and hell in one flimsy membrane....
And no, Hymen does not slap.
A tender turkey breast was dished up. Not a turkey slap....
But a turkey was slapped, not once but twice. The second time harder than the first (which rules out most hash men).
Next week's run delivers the promised hymen. Deliverance.
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