PRINCETON HHH HASH #683.4 Date: October 18, 1998 Weather: Missing Venue: surprise! The Institute Woods Time: 63 min Set By: Throat Deep (internal combustion by Erin Walsh) Hashers: Juicy Dal, Table Toes, Uranus Williams, Ice Blue Balls, Tree, Darby, Tropical Depression, RoJo, A Joy to His Mother, Wacko, Morrow Pettigrew, Skaar Tissue, Hey Yo! Paully, Geezer, Delay LLLama Rookie: Laura Hey Yo'spal Descriptions, Polemics, and Lies: Hard Times in Hash Alley It was another cold night in Princeton, New Jersey. The armpit of America, they say, but it has its charms. I sat with my back to the window, listening to the cars pass by on the rain-soaked street below. The Nassau Street traffic never stops, and sometimes it bothers the hell out of me and I have to don my chinchilla earmuffs. I always make sure to avoid it when I drive through town. I was having a relaxing evening; it was nice to be out of my weekday undercover disguise: no ridiculous beard, no glasses, and that ridiculous car I have to drive! I was sitting at my desk, reading my name in reverse on the smoky glass of my office door (EYE ETAVIRP, SSOM RETEP), wondering how I was going to pay the rent this month, when she walked in. What a dame! She was a stunning beauty, long slender gams ensconced in slinky red pants, a pink t-shirt that read "Owner of the world's cutest cat", and old running shoes. The shoes were leaking. My type. Fulsome. She was gasping, out of breath and covered with scratches and a fine white dust, as if she had been rolling in a briar patch behind a crack house. "Mr. Moss?" I stood up from my chair. "At your service. Peter Moss, private eye. Sit down, dame. Looks like you've been through hell. Can I get you a drink?" At that, she burst into tears. Was it something I said? And what was that smell? Somewhere between swamp gas and rotting flesh, I thought, and not too far from either. Could that odor possibly be coming from this tomato? "Oh, Mr. Moss, that's just it, they've stolen my beer!" Now we were getting somewhere. "Who's stolen your beer, and what the hell is that stench?" "Oh, sorry, that's my Used Hasher Smell. Drives some men wild. But that's not important. They've stolen my beer, and I won't get hash credit without it, even if I bring cookies! I can't bear the shame of a second set with no credit! What am I going to do?" "Okay, I see this isn't going to get any more rational, so let's jump in head first. What do you need from me?" I backed away and slyly opened the window. Despite the autumn chill that was in the air, I needed the fresh air. It was becoming positively rancid in here. "I have the note they left, but I can't read it." She handed me the note. It was scrawled in a child's handwriting and was, curiously enough, written in very poor Spanish: ZORRA: TENAYMOUS SUE CERVEZA. NO BAS A RECIVIR CREDITA POOR TO HACH ESTUPIDDO. iJA JA JA! Hmm, digging deep into my high-school Spanish, I pulled out a rough translation: "Bitch: we have your beer. You won't get credit for your stupid hash. Ha Ha Ha!" The only words that were spelled right were the words for "bitch" and "beer." Typical. Stalling for time while I was piecing it together, I asked: "And what kind of beer did you buy for this hash?" "Piels. Real shit. Panther Piss, the Geezer calls it, and he's right. I would never touch the stuff, but hashers adore it. I think someone's trying to get on their good side, or at least take me down a notch." "Piels, eh? I think I know who wrote this note, but I'm afraid I don't know where your Panther Piss is. I have a feeling it'll turn up in a week or so, though. Have you heard of Road Jaundice? Alias RoJo? Back before the turn of the century, her name was McGill, and she called herself Lil, but everyone knew her as Nancy." "Yes, she's our Grand Dominatrix. You know her? Did she steal my beer? How do you know?" "Yes, and I think she gave it to one of her underage Boy Toys. Who knows what gruesome task she demanded of him as a 'favor' in return. I shudder to think of it." "Wait a minute, now it's all coming together. Throat Deep! He's underage, and he was complaining about not having a car or the ability to buy beer. He really wanted to try drinking and driving, or at least drinking and setting. He was desperate. I bet she put him up to this. But who wrote this note?" "I'd recognize her work anywhere. She tries hard, but her written pronuciation is just awful." "Thanks, Mr. Moss. What do I owe you?" "Hell, just bring me a six-pack of Piels sometime. I love that stuff." Damn! I hadn't meant to let that slip, but maybe in her state, she wouldn't notice. Her Noisomeness got up to leave, but as she reached the door, she turned to give me a hard stare. What I had said was sinking in. I didn't say a word. "Geezer?" On-On The Unknown Hasher ----------------------------------------------------------------------- NEXT HASHES: NEXT WEEK'S HASH: 1 PM 1 PM 1 PM. Meet at 1 PM 1 PM 1 PM. Bring flashlights. #684.4 Sunday, Oct 25, 1998, *1 PM* 87 Prospect, Hand Solo sets the God Help Us, It's a Hasher, Mrs. Wacko! hash 1PM 1PM 1PM #685.4 Sunday, Nov 1, 1998, 2 pm, 87 Prospect, Iced Tropical Blue Depression Balls set The Family-Friendly All Saints Day Hash. #686.4 Sunday, Nov 8, 1998, 2 pm, 87 Prospect, Table Toes sets #687.4 Sunday, Nov 15, 1998, 2 pm, 87 Prospect, Pyro Man sets #688.4 Sunday, Nov 22, 1998, 2 pm, 87 Prospect, Wacko sets??? or maybe we can convince Big Nut to set again??? #689.4 Sunday, Nov 29, 1998, 2 pm, 87 Prospect, Throatwarbler Mangrove sets??? #690.4 Sunday, Dec 6, 1998, 2 pm, 87 Prospect, Joy sets??? #691.4 Sunday, Dec 13, 1998, 4:33 pm, 87 Prospect, Toxic Waste sets the Hanukah Hash (hash starts at sundown)?????? #692.4 Sunday, Dec 20, 1998, 2 pm, 87 Prospect, Hey Yo! Paully! sets a 10 minute all-wilderness hash ----------------------------------------------------------------------- To subscribe to the Princeton Hashnet, email the message subscribe phhh to the address majordomo@cdiprinceton.com Post messages to the Princeton Hashnet by emailing to phhh@cdiprinceton.com and don't forget to check out our Web Page http://www.princetonol.com/groups/phhh -----------------------------------------------------------------------