PHHH #963.9
Date: November 23, 2003
Place: Mercer County Community Park and points northwest
Weather: Indirect
Hare: Safe Sweats
Hounds: Hand Solo, Major Disappointment, Weapea, Brain Injury Volunteer, Jimmy
Ruckfutgers, Captain Lame-O, Lady MacBeth, The Red-Faced Chugger, Nonsensei,
Henrik
Seen at the start: Miner 69er, Charlotte (aka Minor Disappointment if Major D.
gets his act together a la Tropical Depression)

Let's Get Lost

Not that anyone else had a problem. Heck, even Captain Lame-O and Lady MacBeth
managed to overcome the misdirections and get in a hearty hash from somewhere
near the MCCC marina, across three raging torrents that Henrik had the fortitude
or idiocy to cross up to his chest, over the high-speed railroad tracks, and
ultimately to SafeSweats' homey abode where the assembled, happy multitude
partook of Black Angus hamburgers, Belgian beers, Ghiardelli chocolates, and all
manner of comestibles as they gathered around the combustibles in his backyard.
    All, that is, except the hapless Chugger and, who else, Huipui.  If Chugger
had checked with Nonsensei, she would have sprung the passenger door on her
gormless guide as she hung a left, and hung on to the caravan like a limpet.  As
it was, having navigated SafeSweats' convoluted directions to Quaker Bridge Road
and over the RR bridge, Weapej confidently said, "Take the next left" and
started reading a map to show Chugger how to get to the house of her long-lost
cousins on Long Island that evening.
    Five minutes later, he looked up to see Village Road West turn to Village
Road East.  Some time later they arrived at the park, circled the parking lots
by the marina in a futile search for a red 'Vette or some vehicle vaguely
resembling Nonsensei's or the Disappointments.  Having lost the Lame-O MacBeths
on the way to the other park entrance, the pair decided to start running from
the marina and hope to run into marks.  But which way?
    He chose poorly and they headed counterclockwise.  Bellowed RU's returned
nothing but echos and they kept going round, and round, and round.  The Chugger
proved astonishingly placid as sun dipped lower, civilization disappeared, Huipy
led her through a swamp, and it appeared obvious that not only would she not get
free hamburgers and leave for Long Island at the desired hour to visit relations
not seen since childhood, but that she would run a Solo-length hash around the
entire lake in preparation for the 5-hour roundtrip drive that evening.  One can
only imagine what the Grand Dominatrix would do to the groveling Wipi in such a
situation, much less Llloda, and that was before they found marks a quarter mile
clockwise from the marina and she provided the on-in goodies from the back of
the Chuggermobile.  Shitty hash indeed. . .

Next: Hand Solo sets a live turkey loose in Belle Mead, and all the hares follow
the feathers!