PHHH #951.9 
Date: Sunday, August 31, 2003 
Weather: Laborious 
Location: Sauerlands, Greenwood Avenue entrance, Hopewell 
Time: 70 minutes 
Hare: The Red-Faced Chugger 
Hounds: Hey YO! Paully, Ouipee, 42 Fackler, Lev Hofman, Henrik Ronnow, Barclay Satterfield, 
Jan Kaiser, Hand Solo 

The Wide World of Hashing


    "Welcome, everyone, to sunny Hopewell, New Jersey, home of hot zones, hot soups, and 
heinous kidnappers!  I'm Brent Musberger and we're here for Princeton Hash number 951.9.  
With me today is our commentator, veteran ex-hasher Charlotte Eugene.  Charlotte, what's 
special about today's set?" 

    "Brent, this is an unusual hash for three reasons.  One, by its own rules the PHHH 
doesn't start Sunday hashes until AFTER Labor Day; two, a rookie with four hashes on her 
navel ring is setting, and three, she's chosen a location not used in five years 
(see archive/684.4.txt), the long-ignored western Sauerlands park.  So we're looking 
forward to a really shitty hash." 

    "Fantastic, and what can you tell us about the hare?" 

    "The Red-Faced Chugger is as tough as they come--just look at the scars on her legs 
from Henrik's set Wednesday and the burn marks from who knows where.  She's fit, above-average 
IQ, and can drink the Cuban Assassin under the counter at the Belle Meade Inn.  On the flip 
side, she's too quick with apologies for the morons in the pack and stocks better beer than 
they need or deserve." 

    "Alright, and as you can see the hashers have arrived at 18 Model Street only to find the 
start is up the road.  And, just as you said, she's already apologizing for, for. . . My 
goodness!  Is it true she didn't finish the set?" 

    "Brent, this won't go well with judges, and what's worse, she's trying to warn the hounds!" 

    "Fortunately, they've ignored her and headed up the path.  Nice terrain, the path's 
stretching them out a bit, but there! They've found marks off trail!" 

    "This'll help on the scoring, because it brings the pack back together since the Chugger 
has put only one mark every 100 yards." 

    "Charlotte, is it true the hare spoke with the legendary Louisiana Reptile Fancier before 
her set?" 

    "Yes she did, Brent, but it looks like she's losing the pack by hitting trail again, and 
the FRBs, or front-running bastards, are stringing out." 

    "Oh my! Barclay Satterfield has taken a face plant!" 

    "That's gotta hurt. Barclay's a promising rookie, a real gamer, but it looks like she 
snapped two fingers breaking her fall." 

    "She'll have a hard time with the flute at the Philharmonic auditions tomorrow night with 
that handicap. . . And now they've gotten to the end of the trail.  Barclay catches up . . . 
and wants some sympathy from the hounds." 

    "Brent, I'm stunned!  No insults, no jeers, they're not even laughing at her--this is not 
your typical hash full of wankers!" 

    "And now, rather than turn back, they're heading cross-country, due south.  Charlotte, 
what's going on?" 

    "Hand Solo suggested a visit to the Lindbergh house for wayward boys, and Ouipee seconded 
the motion.  So they're adding to the hash, but I don't know know how the judges will 
interpret this unusual initiative, especially since they're . . . uggh, walking." 

    "It's certainly given them the shiggy missing from the set and--what's that strange cry?" 

    "As usual, Hey YO! Paully started late and the pack is calling him to join them." 

    "And here's the hare!  They're back to the start and there are new marks." 

    "But they're on pavement, Brent, and if there's one thing the judges hate on a Princeton 
hash, it's asphalt." 

    "Still, the Chugger got Ronnow and Hofman off on a side street . . . but Ouipee's first 
to keg by sniffing out the turn into Mignella's parking lot." 

    "Brent, it doesn't look good for the Chugger.  Incomplete set, pavement, and Barclay's 
baling out already." 

    "Charlotte, I'd agree, but Henrik's just shown how to put a bottle cap in orbit with a  
Gatorade bottle.  And look at the beer--Yuengling, Sam Adams, some obscure brand from 
Vermont, the hare has shown her colors during her down-down and offered more beer back at 
her apartment.  They've packed up, and . . . look, there's Paully, coming up the road!" 

    "I've never seen him look so vicious after two hours of exercise, and Weepy's even giving
him a bottle." 

    "Joke's on Paully, no twist-off, no opener!  Now they're back on Model Street and The 
Red-Faced Chugger's going for broke!" 

    "Brent, her hospitality is amazing!  I haven't seen anything like it since A Joy to His 
Mother invited Paully and Pyroman to share his bed in '98! (see archive/677.4.txt) The on-in's 
going to be longer than the hash!" 

    "We'll be right back after local station identification and these messages from our 
sponsors." 

    "'Honey, where's the steel wool?'  Wankers, stop solving your poison ivy the old-fashioned 
way--" 
    [90 minutes later] 
    "It looks like The Red-Faced Chugger has more than made up for her trail debacle as the 
board lights up with the judges' scores: Philadelphia, 1; CHarlotsville, 1, Isle de la 
Possession, 1 . . .but wait, this just in from Nova Scotia--a .7!" 

    "Brent, the Geezer must be sore in the bunions after a month with Mrs. G.  I can't 
believe he'd beat up on a rookie like that.  There ought to be a law." 

    "But here's the Rumson vote, and . . . Yes! 1.3!" 

    "You can rely on Rumson's old men to love a long on-in and young women!  But I'm sure 
The Chugger is feeling a lot better about life after her shitty hash." 

    "This is Brent Musberger and Charlotte Eugene from Hopewell, New Jersey, saying goodbye 
til next week on The Wide World of Hashing."