Run No 1957 22 January 2020 – The Fo Tan Novela (30 Minute Read – Ed)

Location: Shan Mei Street Playground, Fo Tan

Image result for dark basketball pitch pics

Hare: G-Spot

Image result for g-spot cartoon

The Pack: Radio One, Stingray, Eunuch, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly, Liberace, Back to the Future, Gunpowder Plod, Crème Brûlée, Penile Dementia, Prince of Darkness*

Virgin Scribe: The Ponce of Darkness – formerly known as:

Image result for prince of darkness cartoon

Post-Run: My senses come to a hurtling halt. Who am I? Where am I? This body that I have found myself in aches and the adrenalin is pumping.  Why am I here? Where have I just come from? And who does this body belong to?

This body fits me perfectly but it is NOT mine! I see what he sees. I feel what he feels.  I am aware of my host but he is unaware of my presence. My host enters into a dark and dingy playground….

The playground is surrounded by tall industrial buildings. I read the sign “Shan Mei Street Basketball Court”.  Inside the playground I begin to make out the presence of silhouettes in the darkness. We are not alone!

People begin to step out of the shadows; I can tell that they are athletes. Not by their body shape but their clothing. They are wearing trainers that have seen better days, They are wearing shorts along with jerseys of important sporting events. Probably events that they have participated in.  They notice my host entering into the playground and inquire animatedly:  What took you so long? Did you get lost?

The cacophony continues as my host is handed a chilled can of beer. A beer will sort you out” a firm voice states. I can sense my host is happy to see these sporty individuals.  Each athlete addresses each other with weird and wonderful names, such as;, Radio One, Stingray, Eunuch, Golden Balls, Golden Jelly, Liberace, Back to the Future, Gunpowder Plod, Crème Brûlée, Penile Dementia and the like!  A circle forms and a kind of ceremony begins .Am I in some kind strange ritualistic occult?  What’s going on here?

Image result for invasion of the body snatchers cartoon

The Circle: A portly gentleman addresses the members, “Prince of Darkness, into the circle.” He beckons my host to the centre. “Who me?” He replies in surprise.  My host hesitantly enters into the circle. From the banter I can tell that the portly gentleman is named Golden Balls. Golden Balls whips out a familiar phallic looking item as if he were a magician performing in a show. On closer inspection I can tell that the object in Golden Balls grasp is an oversized wooden pencil with a fake lead tip. GB hands it to my host.. “Prince of Darkness you are to write about tonight’s run”.  I can tell my host is petrified of the thought. He doubts he has the ability to write. I feel his panic. We need to collect our thoughts … Run! What run?

A Flashback: I have a flashback! Before I entered my host body, I felt nothing and saw nothing. It was pitch black, a floating nothingness. I prefer to be in the warmth of a host body than to be airborne.I have been in many bodies over the centuries.  More recently I have been hosted by snakes, camels and bats to name just a few. There is not a body that will not do if I am accepted.  I enter them uninvited and stay in them as I please. I can use them for mobility.

Mind you most animals are predictable but my preferred creatures are humans.  They are so diverse, so complex. They are the most insane of all the animal kingdom.  But, the human species do have minds of their own and I also love to play around with their sanity. Furthermore, the human race have a great capacity for ingenuity, so with a little direction from moi,  I can commandeer their bodies and direct their madness to create truly wonderful things. And the thing I treasure the most about humanity is its CULTURE! It is also my favourite word in any of their numerous languages; CULTURE! 

Image result for boy george pics

With this culture they create language and art in many various shapes and forms, they use their culture to nurture their young and share with others. They build marvelous cathedrals, amazing machines. They share their thoughts through the airwaves and more recently along fibre optics. This species are shooting into space towards the stars. But sometimes I find myself in spaces without a body to influence. It can be a lonesome helpless place. A void I prefer to avoid.

The Run: Tonight I entered my host with a big bang. It was just a few hours earlier. At first I was disorientated, as I am with all new bodies. I scanned with my new hosts eyes and tried to orientate myself.  We were running alongside the industrial building on Shan Mei Street heading West with a convoy of runners from the New Territories Hash Harriers. This I deduced from the sports kit that they wore. They were searching for the markings set by the hare who goes by the name of G-Spot. My host wanted to keep up with them but I wanted to venture elsewhere. I knew the Hashers were heading for the hills above Fo Tan. Naturally I thrive in filthy crowded cities, so the last place I want to be is in the healthy countryside.

Anyway Golden Balls ran with my host along San Chuk Street. It was therefore hard to mislead my host in going in any other direction. We left behind the Fo Tan industrial zone and very quickly found the trail towards Kwei Tei San Chuen. The road ended abruptly and a wonky concrete path took over.  However, we had not been on the path for very long before Golden Balls announced that he had some kind of appointment to take care of. He swiftly took a detour and headed down towards the new estate.

I tried once again to give urges for my host to return to the city too but my host could hear the calls of the other hashers who were snaking through the village some distance further ahead.  My host was too determined so soon gave up with my attempts to divert him. It was safer not to.

As the path took a steeper incline the village homes became fewer and far between. Many of these were abandoned and sat derelict in the hillsides.My host entered a track that weaved through the bushes, the Hash House Harriers calls were barely audible across the valley as the gap widened.  The signs for the trail changed from arrows marked in chalk to splotches of chalk powder that looked more like dumped cocaine. My host Prince of Darkness entered the shiggy. This part of the trail was marked by dangling unused toilet paper. Not that I cared any less if the bog roll was used or not. PoD kept his distance just in case.

My host is boiling; why was he so hot?  I summoned his eyes to look down at his own appearance.  Good job I had! His laces were undone! My host stopped to tie them up. SHOES! He was wearing walking shoes. What stupid fucker wears walking shoes on a mountain hike? He was also not wearing sports clothes but regular clothing with brown denim jeans.  Is this fucker trying to sweat me out? Who fucking runs through a jungle with a thick clothing!? Twat! He had trouble tying them.  What is he, a retard?  I shrieked! Did I yell an expletive into his consciousness? I stopped cursing and calmed down. I felt faint so I simply observed my host’s running strategy.  The sound of the trail being called by the other runners had long disappeared but was now replaced with the sound of my sweaty host’s wheezing.

We reached the top of the valley and headed due southwest along the flat, my host broke into a sprint but he ran into a hidden branch which jousted for space on the narrow passage, knocking him off the trail.  He was on the edge of a sheer drop with his feet dug into the exposed roots. He managed to scramble up before losing his footing.The sound of the trail being called by the other runners disappeared to the sound of my sweaty host’s wheezing.

Next my host came across a stream with boulders. This part my host refered to as the Leaping Gorge and it was then that the Prince of Darkness’ jeans took a mighty big rip in the crutch. Heat poured out from his boxers as his bollocks cooled down.

Image result for torn shorts pics

No time to survey the damage; PoD hurried along a concreted road through the country park leading down a winding valley back towards Kwei Tei San Chuen.  Eventually my host was heading back to the playground but before my host could reach the finish line a familiar face gleamed out from a dining table at the local Tai Pan Dong restaurant. Andrew and Co from the dragon boat team accosted my host.  They forced him to sit and drink beer making me and my host very giddy before we managed to escape.

Run! What run? Oh! That run.  It was good…..

Back at the Circle: Crème Brûlée, Penile Dementia, Radio One, Stingray, Eunuch,  Liberace and Back to the Future had all got back safely. Golden Jelly and Gunpowder Plod never left. Then it was discovered that Golden Balls’ important detour was in fact to drink with Andrew of the Dragon Boat team 5 minutes from the playground!. Back to the Future also had had a mishap and she share her experience: she had an injured cheek which she nursed.

Gunpowder Plod was awarded the celestial bread maker.  Many of the patrons entered the circle to receive their jovial ribbing. Dozens of beers were either consumed, spat out or poured away. Golden Balls then recited a time he had a very unfortunate accident where his mouth was ripped open during a nasty prat fall requiring surgery. GB continued to fondly reminisce about being temporarily renamed “Cunt Face” He was in stitches, both then and now! 

The Re-naming: The circle came to an end and the proceedings finalized but suddenly it was suggested that my host was actually a pimp. The circle became reopened unilaterally wherein Prince of Darkness was doused unceremoniously with cheap beer as the instigator bellowed, “PoD, we now rename you the Ponce of Darkness” to the great amusement of the others, especially Radio One and G-Spot.  

Image result for ponce cartoon

PoD remonstrated that he had never consorted with prostitutes let alone solicited their services. He reminded them that he was happily married. With fond farewells everyone then departed on their merry way.

The Journey Home: My host smelled like a stinky piss-head which aroused the nostrils of of fellow commuters on his long journey home on public transport. For me I couldn’t care less; the shame was for my host not me but my host still held his head high.

The Revelation: Curious readers (who have got this far – Ed) may by now be wondering about my true identity. Let me tell you that my great ancestors gave you consciousness when we invaded your body.  It is where your great power and ingenuity came from.  You may call me a king because I wear a crown all around my body.  You do not have to fear me that isn’t important but you need to respect me at all times. 

My name is Corona.  You are born to run, so run for your life and savour every moment!

Image result for corona virus pic

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s