Hash # 1,037, February 8, 2004
Hares: Mean Jean & Innocent Doug
Start:: West 4th Street stop on F,V,B et.al.
On-In: Jeremy’s Ale House, Front Street
Scribe: Sarah Down Under
God #1: Cheese & Rice, I’m bored shitless!
God #2: Language! Language! It’s much more ladylike to say “fromage & rice”
God #3: Oh go to Hell, you pedantic bitch! I’m bored, too.
God #4: You think you have problems? HA! Nobody even BELIEVES in a “Number 4 God!”
God #5: PAH! WHINER! …HEY! My sister went to Hell a couple of months ago. Package deal (although the wait in Purgatory almost caused her to miss her descent). Apparently it’s MUCH nicer there this time of year. Better than sitting on these little damp clouds, listening to that incessant bloody harping.
God #3: Yes, yes, yes. Blah Lucifer this, blah Lucifer that…Hmm! I’ve got it! Let’s screw with the NYC Hashers! That’s always a lark. Gullible little f*ckers.
God #1: Boooooor-ing! We’ve done that every weekend for the last couple of months – snow, sub-zero temperatures, sleet, impossibly long trails…although the Superbore Hash last week WAS a perhaps God #4’s most inspired turn. I mean, “Tits out for the FCC! Tits out for FCC!” Brilliant. We exposed those uptight bastages to some of the most base – and often most appreciated – elements of hashing…and MTV paid for it.
God #2: Shut up! It’s my turn! I’ve got it! I think I have a brand new way to mess with the NYCH3…”
Our scene closes with some gods huddling conspiratorially in the corner of Cloud 9, a cramped little dive with smoke-laden walls, careworn bartenders, and bathroom stalls scrawled with “For a wicked good time, call Hope Eternal, 666-999-6969”
Fade to Sunday: The sky is impeccably blue, and the temperature just over the freezing mark. The Downtown 6 train is running to every station. It’s perfect. A little too perfect…
God #2: Oh, I’m so damn good I want to touch myself! Look! Look how the pack is assembling ON the start mark…which is OUT of the brilliant sunlight! See how they shiver on the Dark Side? I know it’s been done before, but I’ve perfected this! Manslave, DownUnder and C*ckstar stand on the opposite corner, in the sun, bemoaning the idiocy of the majority of the pack, and meanwhile, on another corner, at the advertised West 4th stop, yet ANOTHER small pack gathers…
God #5: Oooh, Divide and Confuse! This is getting better.
God #2: Observe as you see the Hares arrive well before the start and go over to the Dark Side, taunting those in the Light as they do so. How is this day different from any other day, hmmmmm?
God #3: Oooh, oooh, you’d better pick me, b*tch! I know it! This day is special because the Hares rarely arrive to start the pack a perfect 15 minutes late, colour-co-ordinated AND give them instructions AND hand out chalk!
God #2: Messiah on a matzoh! You are not only annoying, but correct.
God #4: Of all that is Allanis! Do you see what I see? It’s a visitation by Wet ‘n Sticky! He’s been gone for eons, and is being greeted like an old friend.
God #1: Typical. I don’t even get a First Coming, and he’s already on his Third.
God #3: Can it, ya big Mary! June is hashing, too…and in skimpy garb!
God #5: Who’s June?
God #2: Occasional hasher. Tall babe. Told you I’d screw with ‘em. Resurrecting people all over! Talking of which, there’s Janeway!
God #1: Let’s get on with this before I’m forced into omnipotent boredom again.
God #3: Aaaaand, they’re off! The pack rounds to the west and into the Village. Leading the pack are…Well, crap. I’m not omnipotent. But near DFL are Downunder, C*ck Star, Sticky, June and Manslave. They cross over Sixth into SoHo and…Communion Wine Shots! God #2 – you’re a GENIUS! See how they become dazed at a check! Watch them scatter as if chaff on breeze! Look at the disorder as they must walk through the crowds. Allah, Mohammed & Abraham! Can this be true? Is that Hardy near the BACK of the pack?
God #1: Heh. Look at Head up Ass attempt the ol’ “Red Sea Moses” trick with the crowds and fail miserably! Even better is the expression of partial relief on their faces as they think The Path is leading them south to St. PJ Kelly’s, only to curve back into the narrow recesses of crowded Chinatown.
God #4: Uh, God #2? I’m wondering about your true messianic tendencies when you r*n the pack through such temptations as a genuine (dare I say Divinely-smelling) food “mini-mall” in that region. Only Satan could match that for true deviancy. We could have lost Ed Lunch forever!
God #5: Talking of deviating, can we step this up a notch?… Fine. No takers, then I will, you lazy sods! Ah-hem: Heading down John Street and over to the South Street Seaport, Jesse and June were neck-and-neck. Oh…oh…what’s this? I see Downunder pull out her cell phone…
[Aside, God #2: And HOW IS THIS DAY DIFFERENT FROM ANY OTHER?]
God #5: …and the Voice of Mean Jean on the Hotline led D’Under and others unto the Promised On-In. There were no 40 Virgins, but there were rafters of undulating bras. Large styrofoam cups poured forth beer and good cheer followed.
God #1: Okay…tell me again how God #2 has found a new way to mess with the hash?
God #2: You’re just jea-lous! You’re just jeal-ous!
God #3: STF up! Don’t make me strike thee both with great vengeance! Observe if you will, the Table of Plenty set up almost simultaneously to the beer….observe how this buffet banquet satisfies both plant-slayers and meat-slayers….how it is continuously refilled, as are the Styrofoam goblets, PRIOR to hash clothing transformations! And a Virgin Hare. Is this not unusual?
God #4: I have breached the route to enlightenment! Thus, it stands: Confuse them with sunlight and a hash path that does not deviate, then disintegrates into chaos and naughty hash curses, only to bring them into the House of Jeremy, wherein all Hare sins are mitigated. Ding, ding! What do I win?
God #5: A smack. Now, turn the other cheek…
Fade out on the gods quibbling. It is time for the Ritual Punishment of Hasher misdeeds. And the scroll of the chosen was brought forth by the Lord of Misrule himself, Head up Ass. The following were summonsed to do penance:
- Mean Jean & Doug the Innocent: For the crime of being Hares and disintegrating the pack along the narrow byways of SoHo and Chinatown, they drank. ( MJ, being more practiced at this punishment, bested Doug easily)
- Young Bill: Young Bill has now converted to his true NYCH3 calling by way of a naming. He has shed his former Christian name, and will henceforth be known as “Wet Willy” for his uncanny ability to attract a downpour more reliably than Noah, whenever he is chosen to hare.
- There may not have been 40 virgins awaiting in the paradise that was the House of Jeremy, but there were possibly 2: Nick, and another, who appeared to speak in hieroglyphics or tongues, thus avoiding being consigned by name to this particular scripture. There was also a visitor, a comely young lass named “Town Bike”, from the far reaches of Glasgow.
- Baboon Ass and Joe The Body: They both wore rather conspicuous wrist time-pieces, yet both failed to make it to the start on time.
- Marghretta, or “Empress of All She Surveys”: Despite the magnificence of her title, it was revealed she was little more than a wrong-doer on weekend furlough from a penal institutions (hush now…smutty puns will earn thee an stopover at the third level of hell – rooming with Bottom). The Empress protested that her ankle entourage and wrist enclosure were a “pedometer and heart-rate monitor, respectively”, but to no avail.
- Magoo: Lazarus purportedly arose from the dead. Magoo, generally healthy (though afflicted by “trail blindness”) could not overcome a chill in the air, and failed to arise from his bed to hash. He did however, struggle vainly with the subway system to make it to the House of Jeremy intact, and wearing a venerable Hash “Marathon MMIII” shirt.
- Fast American Dave #6: He of the Blessed Tripod was punished for the grave transgression of r*nning too fast, and missing many a hash mark. For this, he was made to carry the “Magoo” mark.
- Bottom: Rather than holding fellow beings equal, Bottom almost violently laid low a pedestrian on trail (Enough with the innuendo, filth-mongers!). However, Bottom is the recipient of a 3-month amnesty from punishment (see: Mean Jean Super Bowl Write-Up, 4:2) and was able to pass his penance on to Baboon Ass.
- Dave Longfellow: For being a man with a Second Coming of Note. (Longfellow’s last incarnation at the House of Jeremy was as a rather large cardboard cut-out at the millennium r*n celebration back in June of 2003, AKA “Flat Dave”) He was now a fully fleshed “Dave in Full.”
- AOTW: This went to Slow to Blow, for carrying, in his backpack, to a hash, the Book of Ultimate Treason/Infidelity: the “Triathlon Training Guide”. He was sentenced to a down-down of near-Inquistional evil for his wrongdoing –a matching 3 “offerings” of “Boors Light” – one down-down for each stage of the triathlon.
- Proof that gods are omnipotent, and unrelenting: A late punishment to C*ckstar. C*ckstar was yet again witnessed “Spelling her lover’s name in vain”, for not once, but twice, and before the rooster crowed, failing to notice (as guest scribe) that there was no “h” in Jon’s name.
The beer flowed and the food was plentiful, and continually renewed. The pack was satiated and whine-free…
God #2: See? I told you I’d f*ck with ‘em. They’re almost delirious.
God #3: Pah! That’s the alcohol.
God #2: Religion, alcohol/ Tomaytoh-tomahtoh. If it’s an opiate for the hashes, who gives a damn?
God #5: Oooh… I spy Nietzsche. He’s always good for an argument.
God #1: That’s it. I’ve had enough!
God #4: On-out.