PHHH Hash # 776.4 Date: June 14, 2000 Weather: Subterranean Venue: Plasma Physics Lab and wooded environs Time: 1 hour Set by: Wacko Hashers, in alphabetical order: Catch and Release, Cereal Killer, Chris, Dancing Fool, Exciteable Boy, Hand Solo, Hey Yo! Paully, Juicy, Kim, Latecomer, Llloda, Minor minor minor minor Tom the Army Guy, Nonsensei, Oui Pee, Rat (Mike Blake), Rojo, Rubber Alan, Schwa! Spawnosolo, Throat Deep, Toxic Waste, Uranus Williams. Rookies, in reverse alphabetical order: Todd, Pat, Jack, Gina,(down-downs all around) Apres-crasher: Bob McKillip (down-down for disorderly crashing) Centennial Hash: Juicy (ordered to down-down) The Secret Life of Wacko Mitty Wacko walked slowly up the stairs in Frick. His head throbbed, a pain dampened only by the sensation of cotton balls that filled his mouth. God, what he'd give for a beer. He turned the knob to the unpreposssessing door on the second floor. "Wacko! Damned good to see you! You look like hell--why haven't you taken my advice since your last assignment?" "My wife doesn't like the Maritimes. What is it this time, G?" "He's back, just in time for your set." "Not . . . " Wacko shuddered at the thought. "Yes, the Louisiana Reptile Fancier. He heard about the turn-out for Uranus Williams's hash, and he's determined to reduce the numbers for the rest of the summer. Too many hashers and scare the turtles and all that rot. Word is he's got a mole in the hash, and he may have turned Ouipee. You'll have to watch the virgins, Wacko. Help them out." Blast, thought Wacko, as he raked his thinning hair in a vain attempt to stimulate some neurons. Last thing I need is to hold hands of rookies thinking it's all about gamboling by babbling brooks. But we still don't know whether Preston got out alive last week. He popped a Rolling Rock and surveyed the grounds of the Plasma Physics Laboratory: its gracefully aging oaks, well-tended lawns, and empty parking lots. What to do, what to do. . . Wacko tried to keep them safe and dry with a tour of the labs' tunnels, but some followed Cereal Killer down a dead end just as a shadowy figure turned a wheel on the end of a pipe, flooding the tunnel with industrial solvent. Those who escaped trekked to the woods, but not before Schwa! climbed a mountain of dirt, only to have the ledge mysteriously give way. Her screams obscured the presence of the cable half submerged on the hillside. Spawnosolo found a sandbox and stayed there; Hand Solo drank yellow water from a bottle left by a roadcrossing and set off on an aboriginal runabout, never to be seen again. Throatdeep offered hashers small tubes of what someone on the back of a truck told him was toothpaste. It drove some, like Nonsensei, mad, and turned Rubber Alan into a maniacal FRB along Wacko's sylvan trail. At the regroup, WeePee humiliated exhausted latecomers into muttering to themselves, "Never again." Catch 'n' Release ate some pretty yellow lilies and staggered, retching, back into the woods. Rojo followed a trail to the top of a parking garage, only to be run down by a Volvo. There were few left at the second regroup on the helipad, and when the black helicopter descended with the apparent intention of pureeing the survivors, Wacko could only throw up his arms, and scream, "No! NO! . ." "What do you mean, 'No'? Is it too much to ask for a little time off from chasing our children all day? And after spending two hours playing 'catcher in the rye' you want to go out with these pathetic losers for dinner?" Wacko blinked. Had it been a fugue state? How long had he been in it? And how should he answer his wife's question? Which question? Best to think positive. "Yes," he said bravely. "Fine," said Mrs. Wacko. "Just don't expect dessert when you come home." NEXT HASHES: #777.4, Wednesday, June 21, 6 pm, 87 Prospect, Hey Yo! Paully sets the summer solstice hash. #778.4, Wednesday, June 28, 6 pm, 87 Prospect, Geezer sets. #779.4, Wednesday, July 5, 6 pm, Nonsensei sets the co-dependence day hash. ================================================================================ Part B: Date: June 21, 2000 Weather: Lonely Venue: George Davison Rd to I haven't got a clue Time: 1 hour Set by: Hey Yo Paully Hasher: RoJo I thought I was smarter than this!!!!! After a long hard day of working to make the world a better place with horse pee, I decided to make my way thru Magnificent Montgomery County, B-U-T-ful Bucks County and onto the condo-apartment laden land of Central Jersey. Can they squeeze another condo development in Plainsboro? After an eternity of traffic I arrived at the start...only the cars remained in the parking lot...what is this...Paully's car???? Oh, it must be an A to A...does he have a friend that lives around here and that is where the On In will be??? NO!!!! The first marks into the woods were calling me...luring me into their dark, damp, depths. Do I dare enter???? Alone in the woods on a HYP hash???? You only live once! Go for it! You never know what you may find or who you may find. However, the marks disappeared, as well as my hopes...so remembering Paully runs of the past I headed to the roads. After miles of running, and all hope drained I went back to the cars. To my delight a familiar face was waiting for me. The Cuban Assassin! "RoJo, it has been far too long since our last encounter. How have you been since the untimely departure of our friend AG?" He then made an off that I could not refuse...all I can say is that it had something to do with Jorge, a steg, the Belle Meade Inn and a couple of crazy bonobos. OnOn