No Words submitted this week, so the run report is penned (keyed?) by your scribe

The day started well with a good number of the hash family arriving at the pub nice and early for the run. Newie Ian also joined us and was duly welcomed at the circle. Only then did one of the Hares - Cap't Haddock - arrive and swiftly throwing on the Hashit, joined the circle. Was this a bad omen? Did a late hate equal a rotten run? We would soon find out.

Stallion's introduction to the run was fortunately swiftly over - his incoherence hasn't improved at all, and the pack set off at a pace led by Smiffo. The first check was soon discovered. Much milling around and to and fro'ing as the true trail was sought. Sadly poor trail marking by the hares meant that it took some time to discover the TRUE WAY. Now Knobber got the bit between his teeth, followed closely by fellow FRBs Airscrew and Mabel. Up the hill, past the Medieval Castle and then down into the valley went the pack. Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death went the ..... sorry, getting carried away there.

At the lake, a Beer Check was a surprise for the pack, and the thirsty hashers quickly set about looking for the amber nectar. However, the hares who had been whispering conspiratorially began to argue in ever increasing volume. Apparently each was blaming the other for forgetting to hide the beer. What a disaster! Abysmal Haring if ever there was. Tempers soon rose and the hares started throwing punches at each other. The disappointed pack set off again, leaving the two hares rolling in the mud. Cardiac called the ONON as the trail led into a wood. Shaggy as usual tried to outguess the hares (not difficult with these two!) and short cut across an orchard. Although a few noticed the faded sign 'Keep Out - Private Property' the hash collectively thought that the hares knew what they were doing. Fortunately it turned out all right, and the Nudist Colony inhabitants were very good about the pack charging onto their game of Outdoor Twister. A couple of the chaps pointed the way to the exit (Gorjoyce and Bedpan got confused and ran up the hill) but the hash was soon on it's way again.

By now the end was fortunately in sight, and everyone was pleased to hear the ON-INN shouted by Pecker.

All-in-all a very poor run, but to be fair it would have been one of the best if only THEY HAD WRITTEN THE WORDS ON TIME!

On On
Shagpile