After nearly 2 weeks of water throwing and stunt driving madness, it is finally safe to venture out. On arrival, the A-site was splendidly decorated with flags and photos of notable English chaps and chapesses, the patriotic tones of Jerusalem ringing out. It was clear from the start that the hares really knew how to set a special run.
A circle was formed, new shoes christened and the trail described by the Hares SIR FREE WILLY, LADY FLIPPER, ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING IDEA and TURD BURGLAR, all sporting Bowler hats adorned with the George cross.
The paper led us North along a sandy track by the pineapple fields. It was quite a distance before we reached the first check, VASELINE THIGHS the gentleman that he is offered me first choice so I elected to head up the hill, while he continued straight up the track. VT was first to call on-on but I continued anyway as I know the hares well and was rewarded by a glimpse of paper secreted behind a tree. The paper led us over an obstacle course of fallen trees and branches as the smarter hounds including RABBIT SHOOTER followed a path 20 meters further down the hill.
Those of us who stayed on paper were attacked by a swarm of killer bees before we joined the aforementioned track. The pack were kept together by the checks and short cutters led by VV. One disadvantage of short cutting was missing the view of Bang Saray at the top of the hill, it was a cheeky climb but well worth the effort. After scrambling through the cassava crop about 50 minutes from on-out, we found the on-in, greeted by the hares and a smorgasbord of traditional English treats.
The cheese and black pudding were devoured in seconds and the Snakeys proved to be popular, a reminder of my misspent youth. The real ales did not last too much longer, the vodka redbulls and gin tonics being polished off before the circle began. GANGREEN commented that G&T is a particularly civilized drink, I agreed as I drained the bottle into my plastic pint pot.
Our GM SCAR WITH 2 T’S called a circle and after threats of bucket time, everyone eventually mustered. I was approached by MENTAL DISORDER at this point passing on a message from SFW reminding me of my scribely duties. I assured him that I had not forgotten, I just prefer not to take notes or sit and rely on my booze soaked brain to make some shit up. By this time the raffle had begun, this week many prizes had been donated including a wad of counterfeit cash, upon which you could choke a dozen donkeys, the now standard CD collection and hash undercrackers.
EMPEROR AIRHEAD invited the hares to sit and after much deliberation, the run was declared to be successful. Much confusion followed as WANG-KING, WANG-KING’S WANKER and WANKING were interrogated. A change of schedule as the Hares were called in to sing, SFW wearing a camp rainbow Fauxhawk. With my amp cranked up to 11, I provided the axe duties and we performed Pretty Vacant. Well that is what I was playing, I couldn’t really hear anyone else although I fear we may have been a bit out of sync. Perhaps we should have practiced first but as ANFI said, it is punk, does it matter? I am sure the Pistols themselves would have approved.
Time to pick a scribe for next week, the first candidates WEE MOANING WEASEL, BEETROOT HEAD, SHORT TIME and I’M A FUCKING CUPCAKE all declining due to not being present. The options of Lying leavers or scribe dodging cunts were presented and BH and ST were rewarded with the bucket for their response. GENERAL KIDNEY WIPER had previously agreed to scribe and had already left but I filled the ice again anyway as I am a horrible bastard.
I vaguely remember LORD CHICKEN FUCKER walking in and out of the bucket a few times and there was definitely a sweet chariot mentioned but it is all a bit wobbly. On-on to the nuclear sub for some Britney Spears and another Successful St George’s Day Run completed (with no arrests this time). No apologies for the Mockney Rhyming slang.
On-On! Cabbage Head