Chapter 1: 100th Hash
by FuckWOD

As the hares and a small contingent of hashers returned from dropping off cars at the on after location, hashers started to show up left and right dressed in their best lingerie and stripper clothes at the Inn Complete on South Campus of Syracuse University. While FuckWOD collected hash cash, Tweedle Me was given the task of writing 100 on the unexpecting hashers in various locations. She utilized this opportunity to draw a giant penis on Spermislide’s back and he returned the favor by giving Tweedle Me her own penis to sport throughout the hash. Kickstand also provided the hashers with temporary tattoos and PO was passing out beads for all hasher to wear that would come into play later.
As hashers like Rectal Retriever and Spermislide showed up in their best lingerie, circle was called to order by Slip and Swallow. As virgins were introduced to the typical hash marks, they were also introduced to at least one new one a POPC, apparently a PO picture check. Then Slip announced we would all be given one additional tag that we would be known by for the rest of the day. Since this hash was all about the 100 ways to DO IT…they were all tags with pictures and names of various sexual positions. Some of these were well known ones including reverse cowgirl, while some were more interesting like Fleshlight receiving The Slip, which Golden Snowball did not appreciate because apparently Fleshlight would have to do Slip the rest of the hash. Circle ended with PO announcing that he had some “clean” boxers (because they had tags on them still) to give to the last hasher to sign in (Kneegina), the 6th hasher to sign in (Dr. Camel Shrinker), and the 9th hasher to sign in (Upper Decker Wrecker).
Once the laughter and revelry from circle was finishing up, the hashers started to head out on trail and ran past some SUNY ESF freshman that seemed quite confused about seeing people running past in lingerie, but they had no time to ask questions. As we ran through the ropes course on SU’s campus, we ran past many more ESF students, including one who apparently thought it would be appropriate to videotape us on his cell phone. Luckily, he cut the video just before too much incrimination could be obtained. Magical Dickslit even showed his gentimanly ways by asking this random student to not take any more photos of the group just before some of the more scantily clad ran by.
As trail got away from the ropes course, we ran deeper into the woods behind South Campus, the hash crashes and sliding down hills started as the FRBs too hashers down trails without marks and one of the longest falses ever set by the hairs. When we had finally realized what happened, we ended up back on trail and at our first beer near behind the Skytop Building. As the merriment commenced, hashers started to notice that Tweedle Me and Spermislide were missing. This was not unexpected but concerning as we knew that there were people setting up the Juice Jam concert right nearby. As the virgins were being entertained and Tweedle You started a war by secretly putting briars all over Kneegina, who proceeded to use those briars against Tweedle Me and other harrierettes by putting them on their nipples and throwing them around. As this finished, the announcement was made that whomever had the most beads by the end of the hash would win a great prize from PO. This caused a couple harrierettes to use whatever means necessary to get beads away from the harriers as quickly as possible. One even walked around and showed every harrier she saw her boobs to get their beads. As we were about to leave the first beer near, Tweedle Me and Spermislide returned to announce that they had mooned the concert workers and that Spermislide would have to see them the next day since he would be working Juice Jam. This made for a very funny run by the Juice Jam area, especially since Spermislide was now sporting a leaf to cover up a big hole he obtained in his stripper clothes he was wearing.
As we headed off back into the woods in search of our second BN, the group started to split up a bit between the FRBs, the walkers, and the DFLs. The group caught back quickly with each other just before entering the woods due to an unexpected clothing swap and a picture opportunity with many of the harriers deciding to switch clothes with harrieretts. This left many harriers with too many body parts hanging out or showing. JackOff obtained Shits and Spits underwear, while FuckWOD decided against putting on Tweedle Me’s dress for fear of ripping it. This did not stop Turtle Dick, however, who got into Tweedle Me’s dress with the help of a few of his friends. As he got the dress on, he realized that the brown bra he was wearing would potentially be a problem, so they tried to work it off of him without having to take the dress off. Needless to say that bra could not be worn again without a lot of saggage. As the DFLs from the clothing exchange approached the champagne stop, the champagne had already been consumed, but saw the other hashers hanging out by a quarry and throwing rocks. At the bottom of this quarry was Dry Spell playing with some rocks, while trying to avoid being hit by other rocks thrown by Bushey and other harriers who were having fun at Dry Spell’s expense, to create a penis and the statement I love SOH4. Some hashers commented on the shape of the penis he was creating saying the balls and head were huge but there was no shaft. They also commented on his use of stool to “mimic” cum. Most harriers stated that just looked more painful than cumlike. Finally, we saw him trying to pull bushes out of the ground so he could make the balls harrier, but he seemed to be having trouble. Tweedle Me and JackOff decided to come to his rescue. First, Tweedle started going after the same bushes Dry Spell could not pull out the ground, so instead she decided to help him just grab other plants to use in their place. JackOff then intervened and distracted the Tweedle with things going on further down in another part of the quarry and off they went. As the hashers noticed some onlookers, they decided it would be a good time to take off back into the woods.
In short order, the hashers found beer near number two in an old, abandoned garage. What most hashers neglected to notice the wide open door they could use, most decided to climb between the rungs that used to hold the glass. Except for one harrier, who now looked very fashionable in his newly acquired dress. Pom Pilot, thought it would be extremely appropriate to break apart the runs so he would not have to bend over and show off his ass to the world. That is when people finally noticed the door and started to laugh. As beer was being consumed, PO and Utica Chub ran off to start getting things ready for ending circle and the on after. When the virgin hare Pastorbator finally called on out to start locating the on after, all the hashers left quickly because they knew there was more beer to be consumed and some fun to be had. The final leg of trail had them come across a NYS DOT area, where they had to climb over a fence or climb around a fence to get around to get back on trail. Two things were noticed near this fence. The first being the lovely video camera sitting right near the bridge probably taping everyone as they ran by and the giant no trespassing sign on the gate that also had the POPC in front of it. We took our picture and realized it was on in from there to Candie’s where we would have the on after.
Captain, Fakey, and a couple other bobbits joined us for ending circle where the traditional accusations were made and the subsequent down downs doled out. Near the end of circle, PO was given the reigns by RA Slip and Swallow to first figure out who had collected the most beads. Analyze This and Water Pussy were called into circle to have their beads counted. As this was happening, hashers were running into circle to add their beads to each contestant’s collection. Since it was too close to call, the hash decided that this needed to be settled on the pole inside. Yes, the bar has a stripper pole for patrons to use. It was just about the time that the clientel of Candie’s started to become intrigued by what was going on outside their bar. To end our circle PO wanted to recognize a few of the hashers for helping keep the hash alive after he moved away. He called OTD, Slip and Swallow, Golden Snowball, and Pink Penalty. He gave them all special prizes and the hash went off to get a piece. A piece of juicy steak purchased by PO and to get beer from the beer fountain.
The on after was filled with revelry and merriment. The focus of the night is who would be the most entertaining on the stripper pole. People like CWOP, OTD, and Assfault were all very entertaining. However, I think the winner of the stripper pole challenge had to be Cummando Cobbler, who just so happened to be wearing Shits and Spits underwear under his kilt. Knowing what the entire hash saw that night, I am sure Shits will have to wash those if she ever wants to wear them again because as the hashers who were watching the entertainment saw, Cummando had a little bit of trouble keeping it all packed into the underwear.
The beer was a flowing and the food was plentiful, all in all, the hash definitely got a good piece and good memories for its 100th hash.

Chapter 2: In which the beer runs out twice.
by Fleshlight

As the night fell clothes were replaced, the keg slowly emptied, and, perhaps most tragically, the stripper pole was removed. Slowly without alcohol and strippers a discontent fell upon the revelry. While some plotted a return to civilian life others directed their efforts towards finding the mythical “Irish Festival” an unexplored mecca of Guinness, loud noises, and possible shenanigans.
Among these brave souls venturing to find more beer on the magical streets of Syra-Cruz were Fleshlight the Vigilant, Kicky the Upstanding, Snowball the Shiny, Lips Dick the Brave, Kneegina the Moist, JackOff the Drunk, Camel the able to carry lots of water, and Turtle the guy that apparently made out with Pastor the Also Drunk. As the fellowship held counsel and discussed their plans to sally forth, Sir Kneegina exchanged pleasantries with the local muggle population.
Their leader, an unnamed matriarch sook to understand the ways of hashers which were heretofore foreign to her people and the two quickly built a rapport. “Why bother running?” she asked, “could you not simply drink your beer at the bar? To me these ‘hares’ you speak of seem a devious lot hiding your beer rather than bringing the coolers to a simple porch or even a picnic table”.
“Ah, such is the holiest of hash mysteries”, Kneegina responded knowingly, “Long ago our forefathers drank too heavily from the font of life. They found life meaningless without its nourishing fluids and so as they drank more they only developed a greater thirst. Such it was that the font began to run dry because everyone was drunk and didn’t bother brewing more beer. The Hash Gods grew fearful that such unchecked consumption would bring about a dark age of sobriety when the great keg in sky finally kicked. And so the Goddess Genny placed a curse upon all the peoples of the earth that after drinking too much they would experience headaches, fatigue, thirst, nasea, poor or decreased sleep, increased sensitivity to light and sound, dizziness or a sense of the room spinning, rapid heartbeat, red bloodshot eyes, shakiness, decreased ability to concentrate, and according to the Mayo Clinic mood disturbances, such as depression, anxiety and irritability.”
The muggle chieftain’s eyes stared into Kneegina’s fascinated by his tale, “So it is that we hashers run each Monday (Saturdays in the winter) to rid ourselves of this curse and in doing so work up a good thirst and, in dedication of our forefathers, satisfy it in beer.”
In relaying his tale, Kneegina had lost track of time and was surprised to be interrupted by Fleshlight and Snowball, “We must journey forth as much of our company has already departed”. As they gathered their wits and bid farewell to the remaining hashers the muggle chieftain took her leave from the bar accompanied by her noble warriors and was soon lost to view in the exodus happening around them.
Finally, the remaining members of the “Irish Fest” fellowship had bid their farewell and set out. The scamp Kneegina had one more trick to play. He approached the door of the nearest car and threw it asunder hoping no doubt to see some titties or at the least a penis. Alas, it was the muggle chieftain’s door! Her warriors fell upon him with such suddenty that the valiant chieftain could not stop them before the brave Kneegina was sodomized several times. When they were finally reigned in she apologized thoroughly and wished the hashers farewell.
Armed with the muggle chieftain’s favor the final chariot traveled with unexpected ease out of the misty meth forest and reached the sparkling square of Clinton where they quickly subdued the beer tent and acquired the mythic spirit of Guinness. In short order the fellowship reformed about the sound tent, discovered new compatriots, Lady Anal of the bitchy face, and Dry Spell of crooked nose and the festivities resumed. Guinness was consumed by all.
But as even the cheapest of hookers eventually catch herpes, all parties must come to an end and such was the case with the Irish Fest. As the crowd dispersed the company retreated (along with some free beer) to the nearby Penny Pub to, of course, drink more. This time the honorable Fleshlight was waylaid in conversation with another of the muggle tribe.
They lingered long at this street corner trading tales of their exploits with the muggle as the hashers were not yet finished with their beer. Although more was forgotten of their conversation than was remembered one exchanged became lodged in Fleshlight’s head. “Do you like porn?”, the muggle asked. Before, Fleshlight could respond, the muggle continued, “I love porn, especially stuff with strapons. I once met Richard Gere’s Brother at Adult World.” This time Fleshlight interjected, “Why, do they have hamsters there?” he blurted stupidly but was again ignored. The Muggle continued unfazed “At least he said he was Richard Gere’s brother, but who knows right.” As Fleshlight’s attention wandered it was shaken back when the muggle uttered the phrase “I guess he never gets hangovers somehow”.
“What do you mean he never gets hangovers?”
“Say have you ever-”
“Dammit man! Listen to me” Fleshlight’s eyes were lit with apprehension. “What affront to the gods is this!” He stepped forward meaning to grasp the muggle’s lapel. Screaming now, “What do you know of this man!”. Suddenly, a beggar rounded the corner and pushed his shopping cart between Fleshlight and the muggle. In the confusion of denying that he had any change and offering alms of half of a beer to the homeless man he lost sight of the muggle in the crowd and suddenly Fleshlight was alone on the moonlit corner without answers and with a sinking hopelessness growing in his chest.
Surely it was impossible, no one could drink all he wanted and evade the effects of Genny’s curse. It was more power than any man could wield. Without repercussion surely such a man would consume all of the alcohol in the world leaving it a barren sober wasteland. Such a thing cannot be true.
When he arrived at the bar he relaxed and assured himself that the man was surely a bedlamite and not to be trusted. Surely only madmen like porn with strapons after all.
Soon Fleshlight was returned to his normal chipper state as Jack Off said, “Hey, nice hair I owe you a shot.” The two took their shots and joyously greeted Gay Steve and Gay Steve’s Brother.

Chapter 3: In which a crucial decision must be made and vomit is produced
by Fleshlight

After a rousing rendition of the National Anthem (why is that on the jukebox) Fleshlight retreated to the outdoors hoping to clear his mind of the night’s events and so when Gays Steve’s brother offered him a smoke he was happy to accept.
Upon inhaling the fetid vapor Fleshlight felt his consciousness fade and a peace washing over him. Suddenly, however, as if coming from the concrete itself a hand dragged him by the hair into the cold pavement. Pain flashed through his mind like a hot iron locomotive. A second hand reached out and pulled him deeper, through the concrete. The sharp pain faded quickly as he tumbled down into a fleshy pink abyss. A brief look upward showed the Penny he knew engulfed by an oval shaped orifice shrink as he fell deeper into its depths.
Either the hole was very deep or he was falling very slowly for fleshlight had plenty of time to take in his surroundings. He was too inebriated to wonder what was going on. First he looked down and was satisfied that he would not immediately collide with the bottom of whatever this pit was. He then looked to either side and noticed that they were made of a smooth pink fleshy substance which was excreting a curious smelling fluid. He reached out and brushed his hand on the wall which reacted with a slight quiver and the entire cave contracted momentarily.
“Well!” Fleshlight thought to himself. “After such a fall as this I shall think nothing of crashing at a hash. How brave they’ll think me at SOH4!”. He continued thinking in such a vein until he presently landed on a soft pulpy cushion not a bit hurt. Blinking his eye’s he would have been happy to sleep there forever if it weren’t for his piqued curiosity. He first took account of the room (if that was a proper description at all) he had landed in. He was lying in a sunken area along the circular wall of the pit. Atop the hill in the middle was a narrow opening in the floor almost totally sealed by its own elasticity. He tried to squeeze through by pressing both fists through the opening and pulling outwards, but the hole was much too strong and resisted his entry.
Perhaps there were others holes? The room was quite large and Fleshlight walked the whole circumference looking into every corner finding no place to go at all. He walked sadly back to the middle wondering how he was ever to get out again. Suddenly he spotted a little three legged table in the middle of the room. “Curious, I was certain that I hadn’t seen that before”, Fleshlight said aloud. On top of the table was a single perfectly ripe peach with a sign that said “Eat Me”. Fleshlight thought this a bit strange and was hesitant to eat an unknown fruit, especially one he found near the Penny, “Who knows where this one has been”, but since he had no other ideas he plunged the wet fruit into his mouth and drank its sweet nectar.
This act made Fleshlight very excited and with juices dripping down his face he began to masturbate with reckless abandon. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself”, said Fleshlight “a deviant you are, to go on masturbating this way. Stop this moment I tell you!”. But Fleshlight went on masturbating and masturbating, but he went on all the same shedding gallons of semen on the floor.
Finally he got tired as sperm number 178,895,362 escaped his urethra and began swimming towards the tight hole in the center of the room. As Fleshlight collapse exhausted in the corner of the room #178,895,362 plunged down into a second abyss.
#178,895,362, more courageous than Fleshlight plunged ahead into the wet cavern ahead of (him, her?). There was no time to examine chromosomes, the semen race was on! Ahead there was marked out a sort of race course, but with no direction specified. Small dots on the ground were the only source of direction with occasional crosses and BN’s. Semen was scattered about here and there along the course. There was a quick On-On which seemed to signify the start of the race, but they all began swimming when they liked and left off when they liked. It was not easy to determine when the race was over. But after a time they all stopped to partake of some Genny Cream Ale. The most Jewish of the sperms began swimming off before the rest had finished their delicious beverages, but it did not matter for everyone was having a splendid time.
This proceeded for some time until #178,895,362, who was now very drunk on the Cream wandered away from the group. A bit confused he/she discovered in the far wall, much removed from the entrance there were two doors both made of the same flesh substance leading in opposite directions. Between the two doors stood a tall figure with the stubble of a not so recently shaved beard. He was dressed in a green gown and held a sprig of barley in his right hand.
“I am the Goddess Genny,” he proclaimed. #178,895,362 was in awe at the sight of the best beer ever in person. “You are now faced with a choice little sperm! To your left is an egg predisposed to drinking to excess and having lots of fun. If you take this path you will find much happiness, but also many hangovers. To the right is an egg which will grow to drink in moderation. This path will lead you to joy in watching your friends get drunk and make fools of themselves, and you will not have hangovers.”
Sperm #178,895,362 became confused and hesitated long before asking the Goddess Genny, “Is there a way to have both. I want to both drink in excess and be free of hangovers!”
Genny smiled and laughed a bit at the sperm’s stupidity. “Such a thing is impossible people who claim that they don’t have hangovers just don’t drink enough. They are little fakers who pretend to get drunk for attention, but really stop after only a few beers”.

8 Hours later Fleshlight blinked his eyes in the bright sunlight and realized that he was still on the street corner next to the Penny. It had all been a dream, but he wasn’t worried anymore for he knew that Richard Gere’s brother was just a little faker. Then he threw up.

Respectfully Submitted,
FuckWOD and Fleshlight