'Twas the Hash before Christmas and of all the sites,
Our dear Hares, they did choose Candy Cane lights.
A new start time was given and friends I do fear,
The Hares they forgot 'bout our circ-ling beer.
The Hashers just stood there, some getting the bends,
When along came new people … new virgins, new friends?
"You here for the meeting?" asked the one with the hat.
Confused, one Hasher asked, "What meeting is that?"
With a glance at the church, across our dry street,
He asked, "The one for NA … is this where we meet?"
Now Hashers aren't know for pleasantries nor tact.
Filters are rare, we simply react.
Some gave a chuckle … at the farce they did laugh.
But what we discovered … oh what a gaffe.
"Why are you laughing? Why do you jeer?"
"Oh no," thought Hashers, "Damn where's that beer?!"
In jumped Beaver, oh he'll save the day.
He talked to those two, they went on their way.
By now we'd be waiting for what seemed like a year.
And still no Hares … and no sign of the beer.
At last our two Hares, they fine'ly strolled in.
Not clue of the torment of their beer sin.
"Where's our damn beer? For goodness sakes!"
"Look at poor Dapper … you gave him the shakes!"
"That's not our job, now listen here."
But all we heard was "blah blah blah" 'cause now we had beer.
Away we went On Out, to run past some lights.
But first was a S'mores stop, for one or two bites.
We stopped in the yard of the parents of Hare TSA.
Who perplexed to one Hasher, I heard her dad say.
"Who's TSA? Does it stand for something fun?
What does he look like? Please point out the one."
A moment passed by, then three or four.
"Oh look my beer's empty … I need to get more."
We ended the night with the usual stuff.
Plenty of beer, no need for the guff.
Hash shit given, no contest from peers.
The Hares won easily, because of … well, beers.
How was the trail? Did it pass our low bar?
Well this trail's the shittiest, the most by far!