T'was a dark night in Flitwick as the pack assembled for run number thirteen-hundred. With birthday boy Fat Controller in Sri Lanka and half the hardcore hashers in Costa Rica it was a matter of just twelve.
Off the pack went, crossing the road before entering the grounds of Flitwick Manor Park. Captain Fantaaastic was not getting lost this week, although he was running up the road with no flour. Alongside the pathway was evidence of Beavers. They were the gardening type, less logs and dams, but more dib dib dob 1st Flitwick who had planted a bed of flowering daffodills. Custard shone her torch but was unable to see the banks of snowdrops that looked lovely in broad daylight along the driveway to the manor.
The executive hare, Rapid found no progress past the dry moat, or fenced off tennis court, but saw a path into the enchanted woodland. After FRB Depth Charge had number checked back to Double Entry and Pussies Galore we all looked up and contemplated at the crisp crescent moon and stars on a very clear night. There was shiggy in the green meadow, and after this swampy patch several including Bangers and Spotted Dick pursued a long falsie. Onwards past the lake went the remainder, breaking into a moonlit serenade led by Ringer of 'Hi Ho, Hi, Ho, it's off to work we go' as the approaching distant lamps in the darkness gave images of returning dwarf diamond-diggers.
Inside the Spice restaurant Nik Nak talked of shared times working unbeknowst alongside Depth Charge many moons ago. Gispert was toasted around the table and a great meal was enjoyed.
On on to the red dress run where word has it the vicar is giving right proper religious advice.