The trail did not begin very auspiciously. As Iced F*cket and I waited in the parking lot of Toronto Brick Works for the pack to arrived, Iced F*cket managed to lock his car keys in his trunk. Having no way to cart the beer to the Beer Check, he set out on foot, leaving me to the mercy of the pack.
Birdbrian soon circled up the pack for chalk talk. It was here that I was first introduced to our out-of-town visitor, Blue Balls from Corpus Christi H3. Being a curious harriette, I was naturally intrigued how this harrier got his name. However he looked like the type of half-mind who would be willing to shed his trousers at the drop of a hat and I didn’t want the policed called until we had at least had a chance to run trail and drink some beer. So I kept my mouth shut and just assume it was due to the same "blockage" problem that Weak Link was always whining about.
Unfortunately, our Beermeister Kazoo and decided to do his job for once and brought beer to the start location. It was generally decided that I should do a down down before the trail even started for the following reasons:
The first check took the pack up a very steep hill. A stream of colouful oaths was heard from every hasher with the exception of Bottom Scrawler (a.k.a. E-coli Boy), who seemed to revel in this athletic environment. At the top of the hill, the pack found a pleasant surprise. Much to everyone’s amazement (including mine), two thoughtful teenagers had decided to lay a marijuana check for the pack. After taking a few deep breaths to clear our lungs and heighten our senses, we were once again on our way.
Iced F*cket and I had stupidly decided to hide the Beer Check behind a bunch of bushes. However as soon as the pack arrived they insisted on standing out in the middle of the ravine path where they could more easily scare the hell out of normal people. As mountain bikers peddled by us, KY Dick and Kazoo attempted to bring them over to the Dark Side with offers of cold beer, while the rest of the pack shouted out words of encouragement to these prospective virgins. When the beer bribes had no effect on the bikers, Kazoo decided to take matters into his own two hands and began grabbing at their behinds as they peddled by (all the while pretending he was only helping them up the hill).
The trail took the pack further along the ravine path and soon pointed them to the Shooter Check. While setting the Shooter Check, Iced F*cket had come up with a brilliant and novel way to conceal the bottles of Jaggermeister we had brought for the pack’s enjoyment. He hid them under a ton of toilet paper thinking that no one in their right mind would go digging through lavatory refuse. Well he was wrong. Apparently hashers will dig through lavatory refuse if there is even the remotest possibility that there might be alcohol at the end of the long brown tunnel.
As the pack drank, our GM just stood there with a huge Cheshire cat-like grin on his face, happily rubbing his own belly. Just a few Jagger shots later, he was walking up to various harriettes begging them to massage his belly for him. As he approached me, I asked Birdbrian if his belly was like the Blarney Stone. Would it bring me good luck if I gave it a really good rub? Birdbrian drunkenly replied to the negative. He informed me that his member was so long that it actually reached his bellybutton and he was just attempting to trick unsuspecting harriettes into stroking it for him because both of his hands were otherwise occupied downing the Jagger. Since our GM had neglected to bring his wallet with him, I naturally refused his request for a good rub.
Bottom Scrawler, on the other hand, was entertaining the pack by telling stories about a certain "friend" of his who could only get women to sleep with him if he got them drunk on Jagger first. Hey Scrawler! Does this "friend" of yours have a funny American accent by any chance? Did he just get married in France? Is his wife’s name French Tickler???
Back in the parking lot of Toronto Brick Works, the continued to drink beer. While most of the pack looked for Iced F*cket (who had apparently wandered off to the On In), Birdbrian entertained himself by flexing his muscles and commenting on his toned body. This soon caught the pack’s attention and we circled up. Down downs were handed out for the following offences:
H2Ho – for being one of the hares
Birdbrian – because the scared vessel was missing
Kazoo, Blue Balls and Shadow – for FRBing
Blue Balls – for visiting
New Shoez and Birdbrian – for running to the start
location and falling down a hill and sh*tting in the woods
French Tickler, Bottom Scrawler, KY Dick,
Aquidite – for back-sliding
Blue Balls – for visiting (again!)
Birdbrian – for saying, "Wait! Am I looking buff?" in the middle
of the circle
Easy Bush – because she was eating salty stuff
Weak Link – for wanting to impersonate the GM
BirdBrian – for showing his ass to H2Ho
Bumbeads – for possibly loosing his job
Trix R 4 Prix and Bottom Scrawler – for racing
New Shoez – for saving geese
On On
H2Ho