Run #438 Bring Me the Head of Bitch In Heat

Dr. Kimble found a new trail and needing minds so minuscule that they would actually *un it decided to set it as a Gypsy trail. Well he knew his halfminds as last Thursday night the flotsam, jetsam, and gutter trash of hashing gathered in Corte Madera. It being Dr. Kimble there was also an odd assortment of the hoity toity in attendance. The Whine and Chowder Society provided Beastie Boy and Useless Tool, or was that Useless Beastie and Tool Boy who can remember. On the other hand they also produced Morning Missile and Goes Down Easy who will be well remembered Goes Down Easy found herself in the enviable role of priestess for a night as she delivered the evening’s religious service from the Sacred Missal. Face flushed with desire it was clear that she was on familiar ground as she panted her way through arching backs and wads that went down easy. Morning Missile was so taken by her efforts that he launched an evening missile. Thinking ahead he had another pair of shorts available. AganaH3 sent Slimus Maximus who lived down to his name so thoroughly that Chickless Boner was fearful that he would be replaced in the eyes of Gypsy bimbos as the lowest circle in dating hell. Dick Chick sensing the panic, fear makes him smell even more than usual, assured him that he would always be the lowest in her eyes and even lower in Bigfoot’s. Once a semblance of calm had been restored the pack was on-on. Oddly enough trail shot straight up hill. Unfortunately the good Dr. K had failed to remember to leave the fixed ropes in place necessitating a slower pace by all except those hashers who like Rainman have cloven hooves. Watching him ascend the slope it became clear why Twinkle Tits calls him “my little devil.” T/BC seeking a saner approach headed left into the brush where Whippet Out promptly angered a nest of what must have been African Killer Bees. Too bad for the bees as T/BC’s venom is so much more powerful. The carnage was awful; Fits In and Whippet In were last heard castigating him for picking on the poor insects. Trail eventually became a real trail that could be followed by those who have never struck a Faustian bargain. Bag Lady acted as a combination sweep and MASH for those who fell by the wayside or were gnawed by Badger. Drill Me insisted that in an attempt to preserve the few unbitten members of society she’d fed Badger before the *un. Dickless Namehole came across the skull of a deer departed whose likeness to Bitch In Heat was so striking that T/BC not sure that it wasn’t Bitch decided to carry it on-in just in case a proper funeral for our fallen comrade was in order. Bag Lady in a desperate effort to keep the beds at UCSF Hospital filled thus ensuring her continued employment was spotted removing the toilet paper Dr. Kimble had used to mark a barb wire fence. Only virgin Just Wayne was fooled. Naked Hasher used Just Wayne’s dilemma to pass and become a FRB. Charmer that he is Naked patted Just Wayne on the cheek as he passed and allowed as to how it was an ill wind that blows no good. Just John assuming that Just Wayne was taking one for the team used him as a stepping stone to cross the wire. A kinder gentler ClapTrap peeled the poor sucker off the wire and ministered to his punctures. Just Wayne, not in enough pain to miss a chance, tried to convince her he was loosing air as well as blood and get her to wrap her lips around his “valve” and blow. The trail proved so easy to follow that D’anglin Anglin managed to stay in the same county...a rarity. Eventually the pack was reunited and the furniture properly placed. Serious drinking was begun. Bigfoot and Enter The Gerbil still in control of the Sacred Bucket had produced a noxious yellow fluid that was consumed with much trepidation. At the sight of Fits In Shithead prostrated himself and kissing her feet begged her to once again assume her role as dominatrix of the Bucket. Toeing him onto his back she hissed, “Wait till next week big boy.” Enter The Gerbil was soon in his Fool’s Cap and delivering down-downs which since they came from the Bucket were brutal. Since it was Ben Gay’s Bday trail and he was noticeably absent his cohort in crime Bone Marrow was forced to drink in his stead. While a nondrinker she tossed it down like a champ and woke up three hours later. ClapTrap sought to avoid drinking and poured it over her head. Bag Lady assures her that the hair will start growing back with a month. Nutless Sac drank his down manfully and borrowed a cup to clean the rust off his truck, he should be able to replace the bumper cheaply. Fucking Pesto Chicken was toasted for having achieved 100 *uns with the Gypsies and will be receiving a shirt soon. Seeing as it’s only taken him 10 years he’s probably not in a hurry. Likes To Lick insist that the Bucket was filled with drain off from the funeral home parking lot at the trail’s start. He may be right since by the evening’s end he was embalmed. Not far behind him in fluid intake Open Wide volunteered to take the skull and check it with Bitch’s dental records for a positive ID. A last health was drunk to the King who is on a diplomatic tour of Europe from which T/BC and Fits In had recently returned. Those not headed for the hospital and a quick stomach pump ended the evening at Roundtable.