AGM / Run 1607
Wednesday, 6 November, 2013
Officers’ Mess, Police Tactical Unit (PTU), Fanling

Run starts 7.30pm sharp – aim to arrive at 7.15
A to A run, shortish (40 minutes)
Hare: Outgoing RA Mango Groove
Special free “stash” giveaway
After the run there will be a circle during which the new committee will be revealed
Police curry and booze to follow

Hash Cash says: “GM has persuaded me to waive Hash Cash for the AGM. HOWEVER…you should DISCREETLY bring a couple of down down beers with you. OnOn Stingray”

It’s a secure venue and visitors must register in advance, so if you’re going, or thinking about going, make sure you tell outgoing GM Gunpowder Plod in advance: 9307 2041

Directions:
By foot: Train to Fanling railway station, then follow chalk from Exit B (10 minutes).
By car: See map below. Find your way to Pak Wo Road and the roundabout next to Ka Fuk Estate. Take 1st exit (if approaching from south / Wo Hop Shek) or 2nd exit (if approaching from north / Sheung Shui), then turn right immediately. The depot gate is right in front of you. Follow chalk to start at Officers’ Mess. Only cars on the list provided by the GM will be able to enter, so if you’re driving make sure Gunpowder Plod has your licence plate number.

Next run November 13: Golden Balls

Report Run 1606, October 30, 2013
The Farty Fallacy, or, Where’s His Mum?

In summer, Fartypants had discreetly offered his mum up as hare-fodder for the Northern, intending to harry her straight from her flight out to the NT hills for a bracing session of thigh-slapping that would no doubt deflect criticism of his trail onto her – a cynical wheeze that was foiled when the GM switched dates for the AGM to the Farty’s Mum date of 6 November, at a stroke leaving the chuffy one without a scapegoat. “She won’t be here for another week,” he guffed. “Her run. Nothing to do with me. Can’t be helped. Parp. And I’m on a course anyway.”

Anyone seen me mum?

And so it came to be that Sir Moonie Gutbuttock trotted forward on his white charger, lance held erect in clenched fist (which waggled a little in a warm zephyr of manly love), and, as the pennants blew stiffly in the breeze and the very heavens resounded with a thousand blazing trumpets, announced: “I’ll do it. Anyfink for a larf!”

(Fade to a park in Tai Hang, where Velcro Lips is looking for somebody to punch.)

VELCRO LIPS: I’ll kill him.

SIR MOONIE GUTBUTTOCK: Ooh! Suit you sir!

MANGO: Come on Babsypoo, you’ll feel better once you’ve ripped yourself to bits in this shiggy.

DINGALING: Mine’s a Sam Mig.

VELCRO LIPS: Oooooh!

STINGRAY: Over there. Watch out for that tree!

EUNUCH: Bottager.

G-SPOT: Wait for me!

ONE EYED JACK: Short-cutter!

GOLDEN JELLY: (Aside) You see me. You look at me. I smile. You think I smile. Come. This way. To my humble abode. There. Like this. You think I smile still. I smile, but inside, I curse you.

SIR MOONIE GUTBUTTOCK: Cripes!

GOLDEN BALLS: Why isn’t Bogbrush here when you need him?

(Fade to Moonie’s gaff, where the circle was convened complete with chilli, garlic bread and mulled wine.)