Run # 1779 Monday 28th January from the Court Farm Inn at Abbotskerswell with Hares: Only Here/Beer & Shitfaced
Commander
RoUbeN Trotsky screamed in delight! 'I have him now, the Bobby Woll is
mine!' Yes, it was true, Bobby had indeed been caught with his pants
down outside his Panzer and would have to make a run for it. Hashing
tonight would Shirley have to be put on hold....**
Ah well,
back to reality my little Rottweilers. Once a regular venue for TVH, the
Court Farm Inn had subsequently been neglected and I had carefully
looked at the map before setting off. However, I still managed to get
lost and had a slight misunderstanding with Manpig's juggernaut as we
both homed in on the car park.
Another
unlit and dark expanse, though larger than the Goose's dungeon edition,
the Court Farm's CP soon filled to overflowing (an unfortunate term
which would be revisited later in the pub).
A goodly turnout and forty two was the eventual total though not sure if all ran:
Paraprick
with dogs, Ding Dong with Feagle & Brock, Fukarwi, Manpig,
Ipplepenners Roxanne, Alicia + one, Manopause, Wet Johnny and Erection,
Parkies T Humper & Spud, I-Poo'd, Shitfaced and Fag Ash Lil,
Coldtits, All the Way, Woof Woof, Rise N Shine, virgins (?) Hugo and
Ben, Doris, Rambo, Wetfart, Winfield, Piltdown, Georgy P, Teapot, Wide
Receiver (welcome back old son), Wiggy , Ena, SM Ellie, Will (to be
named), Twin Buffers, Hotlips, Zoot, SatNav, Forrest, Soapy & Melon
Picker, Only Here, Beefy and BB to name the forty two on show.
Good to see
young Wide Receiver back in the fold after illness and also Beefy back
in action but sporting a rather large I Pad as no phone.
Not certain if Hugo and Ben were first timers but one thing looked likely lads - they would be able to run a bit..
Shitfaced
had kindly stepped in to assist Only Here/Beer and they outlined a trail
of four L/S splits before giving the pack their marching orders.
The Bird
was on song this week and right from the start went like a Bat out of
Hell, spearheading the pack to the first L/S split. Unfortunately, he
had to be called back by Forrest after completely missing the first Long
split into the playing fields - pleading he was blind as a bat...
The hares had laid an early trap and the FRBs had to fight their way back through the shorts, cursing as they did so.
Along
country lane did they saunter, over stile and up rugged path they
staggered, until, breasting a rise a check which would lead us to the
iniquitous 'fish hook' was espied..
Wide went
down the road and it wasn't clear if he actually returned but ON ON was
heard up a muddy lane ahead though lights were seen toing and froing.
Eventually, the consensus was to go muddy and manifold were they that
crammed into the narrow lane. 'A fish hook!' cried a hasher but no
number accompanied the little used (by TVH anyway) hash mark. On we
pressed but marks no longer could be seen and the FRBs eventually
realised they had been had big time Boris and cries of disappointment
ensued - loudest (naturally) from an enraged Vampire bat lusting for the
blood of the hare responsible for the outrage...***
The
infamous 'fish hook' succeeded in shredding the FRB formation. When we
got underway once more, there was no sign of Wide or Manpig, who were
either behind us or somewhere out in front. 'Normal' service was resumed
with the old firm of Fukarwi and Bat Blue tracking Beefy with Wet
Johnny and Manopause close behind. Way out in front was Ben, soon to be
joined by buddy Hugo who had got snagged up in 'Fish hook' lane - we
just have to get those boys drinking to slow them up a bit.
After about
two miles, a junction loomed large Larry and lo and behold, there was
the Two Mile Oak across the Totnes road. Turning towards Newton Abbot,
the longs legged it and visions of the Clock Tower and ASDA began to
form afore we veered right and back to the environs of Abbotskerswell.
With a
combined age of 130+ the Good Old Boys traded punches - Fukarwi getting
away on the hills but pulled back on the flat with Wet Johnny at least
completing the long trail this week and on the road to recovery.
Somewhere
in the closing stages of the run (you have to give the hares a lot of
credit for laying a good, tough, honest trail) came the shocking
moment...
A few yards
in front, Fukarwi stopped and gazed at a strange hash mark, marked
thus: ƎꓤIM . 'You'll have to help me with this one, oh Belfry Bat, it
looks like Greek lettering!' The two idiots stared at the odd lettering
for a few moments until walking around it, the mark was revealed quite
clearly as: WIRE. 'Fukarwi, it reads wire for gawd's sake!' An
electrified fence appeared in front of the aged duo, prompting a now
belligerent Bat to exclaim: 'Anyway it can't be switched on, the hare
would be mad to let us pass!' Reaching out a moist, clammy hand, the Bat
clasped the wire and receiving a hefty jolt was thrown onto his back!
You had to have been there to see it, believe me oh you long suffering
readers.. for I too suffered out there - the price to pay for being the
Greatest Pillock that TVH has ever seen****.
At last the
OH materialised and soon St Mary's Church could be spotted far down in
the valley. A pleasing - if jarring descent and we were back in the car
park with a reported 5.9 miles in the bag. Solid trail, thank you,
Shitfaced and Only Here!
Inside the
Court Farm Inn, a sumptuous spread was laid out for us Henry VIII style,
and hashers didn't need encouragement, leaping in to feast like gannets
after putting three sovs in the pot. In his eagerness, Wet Johnny
upended a pint which flooded a platter. Mopping up and looking furtively
about, he muttered 'Who put that pint there, Percival?'
But a far
greater disaster was about to happen Harry. The beer loving Bat had just
ordered a pint of Tribute and turned away having taken but a sip,
Sybil. A few moments later, the pint had gone and a hue and cry (a very
serious matter, losing your pint) was about to be invoked. An unnamed
harriet sheepishly admitted that she had knocked the amber liquid of
life over - a fact confirmed by said Tribute having been converted to a
tributary the other side of the bar with the barman mopping up the
deluge. A moment later and a barmaid appeared with another pint,
prompting the grateful Bat to say: 'How kind, ta very much!' But bad
news was swift to follow - the barman tapped the Bat on the shoulder and
said 'That'll be £3.80 please!?!' NO-O-O-O-O-O WAY! I don't think that
would have happened at the Park, do you lads!
The Downdowns were awarded thus:
WET FART for parking in the disabled bay and probably needed that on reaching 1000 Runs tonight!
FAG ASH LIL the party girl...sometimes a barmaid but tonight turned up in a nurses outfit!
FUKARWI who misread the sign leaving Bluebird to climb the electric fence!... now has the new Bat Hat!
Newsagent (Will, Tim) JIM...now duly anointed! for ever to be known as BROADSHIT
*Not a typo you fools - it sounds so more impressive with a Scottish accent.
**RUN TROTSky, pants down, make a RUN for it - come on do I have to spell it out for you?
***I try so hard for little or no reward.
****This is a paid advertisement by an anonymous subscriber.
ON ON to next week and that hash favourite, the Park Inn, Kingskerswell, Newton Abbot ( Shitfaced & Threesum)