As the Big wheels plodded through the bubbling fountain and children laughed with nary a worry, a sickening site ascended upon the Pavillion that crested the top of the highest hill of St. Louis. A fitting start to hash, as it was literally all downhill from there.
Each cooler came graciously pre-packed by the beermeister with the finest beers and delicacies that the Americas had to offer, including Natty Daddys, S.T.A.G. and Cheetos. Truly we wished to represent our nation with pomp and circumstance as the world peace through beer event was not one to be taken lightly. Luckily the beermeisters also thought ahead of time to keep only the American beers and cornpuffed cheese turds cool and made certain that there was no room in any cooler for any other beer.
However, savages as they are, the half minds dug into the luke warm international stock that was slowly accumulating on the tables in an effort to give the appearance of culture and sophistication in the likely event foreign dignitaries and diplomats were to appear to appraise the fanfare.
An entrepreneurial “T.S.A.” was providing everyone with the opportunity of a lifetime wherein each of us, for the small fee of $6, could have a temporary silhouette of human male anatomy transcribed upon our hands. Flabbergasted at her unique skills and the nonchalance of the speed in which she performed the act, the crowd was then stunned to hear that additionally she and “Ice Princess” would be providing us food of the fried and cheesy sort after the run. A wave of emotion crashed upon the hill as everyone choked back tears to exclaim the praises to our generous patrons.
Around this time the second hare, one “Fake Bake Fuck”, appeared from the South carrying an emptied bag of flour. When looking upon the crowd of smiling faces a shock of pure terror turned his hair white at the realizations of what he had condemned these innocents to on the grueling and certainly fatal trail he just had laid. “How many would die tonight?” and “How many children will now grow up without parents?”
“Quarter Pound Me” sought to maintain some sort of order. Gathering the half-minds into a circle The delegate from New York, Rusty Drawers, was presented. As were a multitude of sacrificial virgins including Just Andrew, Just Andrea, Just Drew, Just Andy, Just Androux, just Andrew Yang, Just Eric Andre show, Just My Dinner with Andre, Just Dr. Drew, Just Andes Mints and Just Valerie.
Within the inner circle The hares, “Fake Bake Fuck” and “Ice Princess” transcribed the ancient symbols of hashing and ritual casted the “Hare Hunt” spell on the 30 radius area so that our next 20 turns we had to use the dash action to seek the hares. In an effort to dose the pheromones to a non-lethal level “Quarter Pound Me” tried to counter-act the spell with the “Blessing of Flour” Spell. It merely delayed the inevitable though as the Hares took off. After 10 minutes of drinking now slightly cooler foreign beer every member of the party except “Postage” failed their Willpower saving throw and were compelled to chase after the hares.
After much debate flour was eventually found in the grass and the hounds plodded madly down the hill. Checks were checked and dots were found. Down Southwest Blvd and past a blockade of a restricted street the feverish hounds, now foaming at the mouth were loosing fluids fast. Often from more than one end. Beer was found quickly in the crevice of tree and the pack, now satiated, continued on. Civilians milling about in their Wednesday best at the local market screamed in horror as men and women in the form of beasts galloped through their carriage park and behind to the eerily groaning abandoned huntsmen hall of “Sandrina’s place”. There the brutes slogged down more, equally exotic tinctures and elixers from Australia and Germany.
The Hunt continued past the old St. Louis Mental Hospital. Hidden from view and obviously a coded message, “Dewey Sexual System” discovered the Dairy-oriented sexual exploratory tome of Christy.
Transcribed in full is Christy’s One Day In Fall:
I was with my daddy and we where at home and we thoght to stay up in till 3am! And we made popcorn and then we put presles and then we melted chees and it smelled good. In a bowl and then we whacht Power Rangers. But then I wanted to play Uno and my daddy shufle the cards and it sondeded like somebody is saying shhhh really fast. We played 2 ronds I won at the 1 rond. And my daddy won the last ronde. DAD DONT GROPE THE HOT CHESES BECAUSE IF YOU GROPE IT. IT WILL STAN MOM’S FLOOR! And after the last ronde we checked the time and it was 2:30 AM I said “it is allmost 3A.M.” my daddy said “yes I know” and we wachd another movie called Tine Titans go to the movies and then we chekd the time and it was 3 AM! We finished the movie and then I said “Can we stay just stay up in till the morning My dad said “ok but if I go to sleep don’t wake me up” So I said “ok” but then both fall asleep on the coch. And then I wake up because dad was snoring and I hit him with a pillow he woke up and he fall back to sleep and then I chact teh time and it was 6:30AM abd the TW was still on so I turnd it of and I whent back to sleep. Until the next morning and when I woke up there was a big MESS and I started to clean and the I exadently groped a bowl and I heard a ding I told my slef opse. My….dad…..is...going….too….give….me….in…..DROBLE! And then he woke up and he didn’t give me in troble instead he helpd me clean up
“Vomit Comet” came upon a license plate holder and, being a hasher and not a trasher, retrieved the trail treasure with pride and renewed fervor. “Fat-Liner”, with an air of audacity flew to take it not once but twice. Each time cutting open his hand as the God’s smote him for his gall.
In Tilles Park the hares met with the pack and dropped concentration. Astoundingly all had survived and took part in the boon of now very cold foreign beers. Once full A quick jot back to the starting circle was had.
It is at this point the record seemingly becomes fuzzy and little detail is recorded.
The Pizza once promised was awaiting us. Our dazed minds, contorted from the fever-dream of the hunt and the elixers of foreign lands engorged on the Italian pies and the frenchest of fries.
Within the Circle, the Religious Advisor presented again the Esteemed delegate from New York wherein he performed a native song. The crowd went mild.
At about this time an officer of the law had braved the victims reports of the townsfolk and sought to brave the army of be-socked hounds. Upon arrival, however, he observed friends within the pack whom had once helped him in a time of need (so I assume). With great conviction he allowed the ritual to play out to its fullest with the knowledge that such a happening is necessary to make the flours grow on the streets of St. Louis.
The virgins were summarily asked to show a joke, perform a hidden body part, or tell a song. Jokes were told and consequently many jollies got off.
The closing chants of Low were swung and the hill slowly returned to being as quiet as the grave.
-- Vomit Comet
Pavilion at Sublette Park (shocker!)
5653 Southwest Avenue
St. Louis, MO 63139
Fake Bake Fuck & Ice Princess
WHAT TO EXPECT:
Fake Bake is celebrating 10 years of hashing by laying a short trail so we have plenty of time to enjoy ALL THE BEERS before & after trail.
HOW DOES WPTB WORK?: Bring 4-6 fancy imported beers to share and you don’t owe hash cash (we will have coolers of ice and cups). If you don’t bring fancy beer, pay $7 and drink the normal shitty beer.
FOOD/On After #1: since we’ll hang at the pavilion after trail to finish the fancy beer, we will eat there too. Some international foods will be brought in (think Italian, French & Mexican). To partake, just pay an extra $2!
On After#2: if you want to keep drinking or if they kick us out of the park, we’ll mosey on down to The Trophy Room at 5099 Arsenal Street, 63139