The Body Snatchers
Run 1701 turned out to be quite alarming. I am now VERY nervous about attending future runs and might start hiding under my bed.
It all started innocuously enough as we assembled together outside Cheung Shan Monastery. Myself (your handsome hero, Serbian Spammer Bomber Baron Diver von Mooseheime), Mango Groove and Golden Balls arrived to find Liberace waiting for us. Velcro Lips was next, then Hash Beer Eunuch arrived on his motorbike, but lacking beer. Last to arrive was One Eyed Jack and there was our first inkling that things were seriously out of kilter.
As One Eyed Jack turned in to park, music blaring from his car stereo, Velcro Lips sashayed her way across to greet him, singing and dancing at him through the car windows while the rest of us looked on bemused. “Okaaaay,” I thought. “That’s unusual.” Little did I suspect just how bizarrely the night would unfold.
The next indicator that things were not as they should be, was the briefing. Knowing Liberace was the hare I had brought speed hiking poles with me to support my dodgy ankle up and down the hills.
“You won’t need those,” he told me.
“But what about the hills and the shiggy?” I asked.
“It’s all flat,” he advised me.
What? A Liberace run with no hills or shiggy. Hmmmmmm. By now I was beginning to get suspicious. Was Liberace misleading me or was this some imposter.
Before we set off, Golden Balls called out to a couple running past to come and join the hash. And lo and behold, they approached the group and turned out to be Shanghai hashers who had no idea there was a Northern New Territories Hash. They were unable to join this run, but hopefully, we’ll see them in future (unless they read this report, in which case they will know it is not safe as they may be replaced by alien clones).
And so, we set off. Onto a split, with trail marks running off into the distance in both directions. One led up a hill through jungle (so maybe it was the real Liberace as hare) and the other led along the road. Knowing Liberace was the hare, everyone except Eunuch and One Eyed Jack set off up the hill. Which turned out to be a false trail. So we chased along after Eunuch and One Eyed Jack. But where were they?
Further up the road we found a checkback. True trail went down a side road. And there we caught up with the front runners. We then found ourselves exploring many checks with false trails marked in every which direction. Liberace had clearly being paying attention to some of my trails. Markings out of sight around corners. Trail markings in three dimensions and not just on the road. But no laminated notices; clearly he still has some lessons to learn.
But always trail followed road or path. No hills. No shiggy. As this continued and we pounded down the tarmac, I began to realise Liberace had been replaced by an imposter.
More strangeness ensued. At one check most of the pack went off following a false trail. Eunuch took the opposite direction and started calling “trail” and then “on on”. No, I didn’t make a mistake and type the wrong name. Eunuch was calling trail. Only me and Velcro Lips were check hanging, the rest of the pack having disappeared into the distance following false trail, so only we were close enough to hear this strange phenomenon. Off we went, not thinking to question our safety. Then when Eunuch went chasing along another false trail taking most of the pack with him, we then had what must qualify as the second-most unbelievable event of the night, when Velcro Lips became the front runner for a while.
Eventually, I passed an on home sign and confidently ran on, sure that I was on the right trail, only to be confounded by a checkback. Who puts a checkback after the on home?
Even then I didn’t realise just how severe the danger was. Not until I arrived back (not the last, and arriving before the circle started) and discovered that the first to finish the trail was Golden Balls, who had managed to run past Eunuch and Mango right at the finish. WHAT?!? This has to qualify as the most unbelievable event of the night.
Fortunately Liberace had gone out to buy beer and ice so I was able to grab a can and drink my shock away.
Just as the circle was about to start, consternation errupted when the police arrived and set up a roadblock only 50m down the road. First thoughts were that they would be interested in our beer drinking and that perhaps we should move the circle along the road and out of sight and mind. Calm returned when ex-rozzer Liberace was dispatched to find out what they were doing and returned to tell us that they were looking for illegal aliens.
Now the circle could begin.
More consternation ensued as we realised that Golden Balls’ clone had mistakenly lined up with a street light so that his shadow was cast in the circle. A slim-waisted shadow. Now the game was truly up.
The circle quickly was dragged back into normality (for a while, until we tickled Golden Balls’ tummy). Many downdowns for the hare for a flat, shiggyless trail with many false leads, and for many, many dogs having promised at the start that there were no dogs at all. Many downdowns to others (including myself) for various crimes. A renaming for one night only, Racing Balls. Soliloquies from Velcro Lips (on circles being hijacked on lesser hashes for bitchy personal downdowns) and Eunuch (about his admiration for the British passport office, Philippines divorce law and his enjoyment of his many holidays). Intelligence on who is sleeping with whom provided by Velcro Lips. – Serbian Bomber
- Serbian Spammer Bomber Baron Diver von Mooseheime
- Mango Groove
- One Eyed Jack
Pod People (Cloned Alien Imposters)
- Velco Lips