THE HIT MAN HASH
Saturday, March 2, 2002
Hare: Don Wet Pussy
Meeting Place: Mafia bakery in the middle of nowhere

The hash started innocently enough…

I was running late as usual. As I stood in Keele subway station wondering how the hell I was going to get to the start location in time, I noticed a familiar red jacket bobbing along on one of the bus bay platforms. I turned to run away, but unfortunately Shadow spotted me before I could escape. He immediately ran up and told me we were going to be late. (Thanks Einstein. Don't know what this dumb bimbo would have done without you.)

The wise Shadow then started reminiscing about his centuries of hashing experience. Shadow told me that he often stuffs his backpack under hashers' cars when he arrives late to a run and then prays they don't drive off and scatter his crap all over the road. Wanting to cut the conversation short to prevent myself from going deaf, I suggested we hail a cab. We spent the next 15 minutes standing on the corner of Bloor and Keele frantically waving our arms at each cab that drove by. As another empty cab zipped by, I began to wonder why none of them were stopping. Did we look like escaped convicts? Could they actually smell Shadow from all the way over there?

Some cab driver finally felt sorry for us and picked us up. When we were within one block of the start location, Shadow suddenly ordered the cabby to stop (since neither of us wanted to be caught dead arriving at a run with the other). No sooner had I jumped out of the cab, then a familiar car pulled up beside me and honked. To my dismay it contained GagsALot and GladHeAteHer, who giddily waved at us. (There goes what little is left of Shadow's reputation!)

The start location for Hogtown's first ever Hit Man Hash was in the parking lot of some bakery, which (Don) Wet Pussy claimed was the headquarters of his family's organized crime ring. Shadow and I found Don Pussy in a foul mood. Apparently the police had intercepted his shipment of stolen florescent yellow running outfits and he had nothing to wear to the run. However he soon circled up the pack. As I looked around I noticed that he had brought a number of his henchmen along with him (presumably to keep the rest of us in line). Moonman, a.k.a. "Sticky Fingers", was there - along with the bimbo he had knocked up several months ago. Don Pussy had also brought some "protection" with him in the form of KY Dick (no, "KY jelly" is a different kind of protection). What KY Dick had in muscle, he made up for by having absolutely no brains. Unfortunately this made him quite unpredictable and dangerous (although not nearly as dangerous as Shadow after a meal of baked beans). Don Pussy drew a chalk outline of a body on the ground and explained exactly what nasty things would happen to us if we didn't follow trail. Finally new boots Just Frank and Just Lok were introduced.

Before we set off, Don Pussy handed each of us a sheet of paper that listed all of the landmarks we were going to pass. At each one of these, we were expected to stop and pay our respects to all of his "extended family members" who had met their end in a variety of creative ways while handling "family business". Although I enjoyed looking into car trunks, the cement blocks got boring pretty darn fast (especially the ones that we couldn't really see since they were still sitting at the bottoms of lakes).

The run took us along a number of city streets and the pack got completely lost for what felt like hours beside some mall. The reason soon became clear. Apparently the underachieving Cums On Demand had checked all of ONE BLOCK north before giving up. Weak Link finally decided to check a few meters further and we were once again on our way.

At some point during the run, each one of us came to the harsh realization that this was going to be no regular trail. In typical mafia style, it was turning into a Ballbuster. At one point Rose Eh and I ran into Weak Link who was wandering south along Keele desperately looking for marks. Rose Eh pointed out (OK, whined) that we'd already been out for two hours, hadn't found the beer check yet and were still a good two miles away from the cars. She then suggested we skip the BC and head back to the cars. Weak Link initially agreed but then commented that he had the keys to the beer check (a car) and didn't want to turn back for fear of displeasing Don Pussy. Weak Link was clearly not part of Don Pussy's inner circle, since the crime boss had refused to divulge the actual location of the moonshine. Leaving Weak Link behind, Rose Eh and I found the not so clever KY and quickly convinced him to stop the insanity and turn back.

As Rose Eh, KY and I walked back to the cars, KY brought up the subject of weddings and told us that he only takes dates who will sleep with him. Rose Eh commented that she will only sleep with people who are willing to invest money with her. I was glad to see both of these hashers had standards...

...and speaking of standards, as the three of us walked along, a car suddenly drove by and honked at us. Apparently Dapper Sapper and Soft Stiffy had decided to abandon trail and go cruising for chick. And it was clear that Rose Eh and I didn't make their cut-off, because they took one look at us and drove away.

We finally made it back to the bakery, where KY hopped on his bike and peddled toward the On In. Rose Eh and I jumped into her car, but not before we checked her trunk to make sure Don Pussy hadn't left any unexpected surprises behind.

At the On In, Rose Eh and I ordered beers and socialized with the other clever half-minds who had also ditched trail. Soon the rest of the pack began to arrive…

As soon as he walked into the bar, Moonman shoved his hand down his pants and produced an organ. No, not a skin flute, but a real electronic keyboard that he had probably stolen off some small child while on trail. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work - even with the combined engineering geniuses of Moonman, COD and Bridbrian trying to play with it at the same time. Then a harriette suggested that it might work better if they actually turned it on. Still no luck. Finally Moonman admitted that he had found it in the trash. Leaning the truth, I suggested that perhaps the keyboard was in the trash because it was broken. COD laughed at my ridiculous idea and informed me that nothing is "broken" until an engineer tries to fix it. He then ran out to his car and retrieved his gigantic emergency tool case.

Our team of engineers operated on the keyboard and managed to "fix" it so that instead of making no noise, it now sounded like a sick cow. At this point FLAB informed Moonman that he would have to find a new place to live if he though he was bringing the organ home with him.

Down downs were handed out to the following:

Don Wet Pussy - for haring
Just Frank and Just Lok - for visiting and for being new boots
Dapper Sapper and Birdbrian - for being late to the hash
Don Wet Pussy - because it was his b-day
Moonman - for shopping on trail and picking up trash
Shadow - for being a geek
KY Dick - for making it to the BC
Cums On Demand - for having a tool box in his car and for compensating

After the circle closed, KY's firm and muscular bod was immediately noticed by the two biker chicks running the joint. Before you could say "Yo quiero Taco Bell ", KY was on the dance floor dancing away with the biker babes wearing a sombrero. Soon Moonman joined him. These two FAME students delighted hashers and patrons alike by enthusiastically grinding to Geri Halliwell's "It's Raining Men" cover. Not wanting to be left out, Wet Pussy soon ran onto the dance floor as well. As I watched these three fools partying away to "YMCA" in their new sombreros, I was reminded of a bad scene out of "The Three Amigos". Except that Martin Short, Chevy Chase and Steve Martin were paid good money to publicly humiliate themselves - while KY, Wet Pussy and Moonman were dancing because no one had the foresight to cut them off in time.

As we left the bar, I overheard the following conversation:

Biker Chick: Which one do you like?
Other Biker Chick: I like the one that's not so smart.
Biker Chick: Which one is that?

You're not alone girls, we haven't figured that one out either.

On On
H2Ho