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 HASH MAG ARCHIVE 1997: RUN NO.701 Run Date: 21 April 1997 Gun Running At Tolchmoor Gate The Hares claimed to have thrown 17 Ibs of white flour all over the area but only Dishy saw it. Attached is a map of where the trail went, marked in green .....and where the Hashers went, marked in red. When they all got back at five to eight they all saw red too! Discontented grumbles of "Wasted evening" were heard. When the hares got back with Dishy, from a perfectly laid, perfectly timed run at eight-thirty precisely they saw red too. Discontented grumbles of "Wasted flour" were heard. So it was not a happy lot who entered the Moorland Hotel at Wotter. Inside, however, things brightened up. IAT was trying to give away some dusters in red, yellow and grey colours with mis-spelt words printed on them, claiming they were souvenirs of last week's momentous 700th run. Tinkerbell suffered the rounds of abuse as she bravely tried to collect £1 from each hasher. Not Norman almost took his jeans off to show how well his eight year old scar had healed but was deterred by the look of shock on Twice-A-Week's face. This week's division of tables seemed to based on height. It you were six feet tall or more you grouped on the left, leaving all the dwarves on the right. Why is it that all the tall blokes such as Fferret, Wimpers, Rover, Sub, Deadly (and sometimes IAT) get in huddle round the bar so that everyone else gets neck-ache trying to talk up to them? How about putting them all in a team for the Albaston Relays and calling them 'Drake's Runner-Beans'?. Dress them all in green tights and they could win the Fancy Dress prize for the fastest fancy dress Team! Skippy was not there for Deadly to victimise and since the rest of the Harriettes present could hold their own against him, he picked on IAT instead. "What's this GRID REF" he roared. "It's all wrong, you've put the numbers back to front". It took Rudolph to produce a map to explain to the Old Queen that the runs were thirty miles apart before he was convinced that the references were correct. IAT was happily eating his rubber pasty, discussing the merits of aged Grand Masters who were still mobile and somehow became the butt of a joke. He added that in his case GM did not stand for Grand Master but for Grey Matter! Ha! Ha! Anonymouse and Mudflaps sat in shell-shocked silence tonight. At the start of the hash (the bit where it was going OK) everyone turned west, leaving Mudflaps walking up the public footpath. Suddenly a nasty, bully-boy farmer appeared and shouted at li'l ole Mudflaps and threatened to blow her head off with his shotgun. It was most unfair, she was not running with loose dogs or chasing his pregnant ewes, so he should be charged with assault, threatening behaviour and carrying an offensive weapon in public. SO WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?!!!
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