PHHH #986.9 

Date: Sunday, May 2, 2004 

Place: More or less Pigeon Swamp Park, mostly less 

Weather: warm 

Time: 57 minutes 

Hare: Bjorn Dork and Premature Graduation 

Hounds: Hand Solo, Safe Sweats, Hey YO! Paully, Caleb Howe, Lawrenceville Mike, Wipi, 
Geezer 

Rookie: Alan Nevilles 

Seen while setting: two giant black water snakes and a snapping turtle the size of 
Poseidon 


Bag Job 

Not since PHHH #745.4 (http://www.princetonol.com/groups/phhh/archive/745.4.txt) have we 
visited the shores of Itchi Gummi, where the advance scouts for the electron-scavengers 
of Zorgon (see http://www.princetonol.com/groups/phhh/archive/811.4.txt for background) 
set up camp before the Turnpike came too close, leaving behind cyclopean-sized rusting 
marbles and signs warning "Soft Bottom: Do Not Enter."  'Twas on that hash that Safe 
Sweats took his leave of the PHHH before heading west on "business."  In keeping with 
the cyclical nature of the universe, Safe Sweats once again took his leave of us, this 
time taking Hand with him.  What happened?  Perhaps Dork and PG tinkered with things 
they should not have, crossing great crop circles and power line clearings before ending 
in Whipyj manner in the middle of a swamp, not fifty yards from where we earlier embarked 
on a half mile trail of Grade 2 shiggy.  Someone pointed out the black cat that leaped 
across the path we took anyway.  Or maybe it was Ouipea's desecration of the immaculate 
bunny skeleton precisely centered under the power lines, the delicate calcified tracery 
of the sinuses exquisitely preserved, or the way Huipy posed the skull attacking the 
deer carcass lying by the gate across from Itchi Gummi. 

    In any case, the pack was retrieved from the final mark by Dork, who led them to the 
Triumph brew and the worst, bar none, corn tortillas in the history of unleavened bread 
products.  Hey YO! Paully appeared not too long after, saying he'd passed Safe Sweats 
and Solo on trail, where they were discussing. . . well, what the hell do two grown talk 
about in a swamp? 

    And what about those South Brunswick cops?  Dork and PG told a bizarre tale at the 
start by a random warehouse at the end of time where a cop pulled behind them by the lake 
during the set: "Put the bag down.  Step away from the bag."  And instead of ritually 
humiliating the pair of hares, the cops let them go, eagerly expecting that the two would 
help an adopted Columbian son get into PU.  Right, and that's Columbian flour . . . and 
yet, just as we had left the mystery of Solo and Safe Sweats to a Wachspress double 
cross made of those horrific corn tortillas, packed ourselves into the back of Dork's 
pickup, there was Officer Krupke, pulling up alongside. 

    "Hey, you finished your cross-country run with all that flour?  Not that I understand 
it, but you're from the university, right?  [Nodding smiling responses and all hands 
point to Geezer] And now you're all liquored up?  No?  Good, that's great, have a nice 
day." 

    Not even a citation for the missing gunrack; something's rotten in the state of South 
Brunswick. 

    Mike--you know, the deaf mute from Lawrenceville?--removes a "Soft Bottom" sign for 
his own, devious ends.  Sounds like it sings!