A Load of Warlocks (and witches)

 Donut Hashgate Flash RainbowWarrior OldDog C5 Twanky Iceman Ram OldFart Motox Bomber Posh Dumper Septic NappyRash HP and dog Barney Honeymonster and dog Max Slowsucker Swallow Snowballs Slippery Nutty Potty Simple Skids Slapper NoSole Dunny Rampant Mr Blobby Mrs Blobby TC and dog Molly Whinge Bogbrush Fannybag Paella TinOpener Lilo and dog Minx Foghorn Dave Catnap Mesenger Boy and dog Lucy Webfart Yvonne Michelle Zebedee Florence BGB Full Frontal Lemming Mother Theresa Spex LoudonTasteless Dribbler Butterfly Jwax Baldrick

Trick or Treat?

While I have been away lady autumn has stepped quietly into the country with a stately tread, clothed in russet and gold, tinting the leaf tips and flecking the trees with fire. O to be in England now that autumn’s here! And, of course, the added bonus of a Hallowe’en Hash.

While the countryside surrounded Dunsden Village Hall with its evanescent beauty the Hash filled the car park with an horrific motley of the wonderful and the downright weird. Firmly in the former category stood Cerberus and Desperate. Cerberus in a frightfully well crafted witches costume with a spiral coned witches hat and a lurid pair of black and orange hooped tights. Desperate in a rather more coquettish, low-cut, high-skirted number that looked like a cross between Bewitched and Debbie Does Dallas. Both were quite enchanting. Unlike their opposite numbers. Shitfor was a red-faced horny devil in a dark red boxing dressing gown while Billy was, well he looked like an escapee from a Kiss lookalike convention, with long black hair and a white face. He slightly spoiled the scary effect by admitting later that he was wearing a girdle…(purely for medical purposes you understand).

It was quite a problem getting everyone’s name in the recording machine since many were in costume and unrecognisable.  An unbelievably grey-faced, warty person hobbled over to me with a, “Hello Hashgate.” It turned out to be C5 so I asked him if he would be wearing a mask later. Whinge and Rampant were quite exceptional as twin Draculas. Skinny Dipper during the Trail mentioned that she expected Whinge would like to bite her. Something she didn’t mind too much as long as she got to specify the location of the fanging.

Our Horrible Hares had promised a Trail never laid before round the area so NappyRash, HP, Donut and I were very much looking forward to it since this is home turf to us. The Hash Horde flapped, foot-dragged and clumped On Out up the road… to a familiar track across the muddy field. Up the deliciously soggy bridle path where those mischevious Hares told most of the Hash to go straight on, then nipped off right on the track that led across the field to my road. Down the snicket next to the house owned by my friends and along the lane that led past the bottom of my garden. Hmm. No doubt the unknown part of the Trail would make itself known soon. I wondered what the village of Binfield Heath were making of a bunch of largely ‘mature’ people dressed in Hallowe’en costume who were sogging their way across muddy paths and shouting obscure chants at intervals. Think my chance of being elected to the Parish Council has swirled its way down the murky plughole of missed opportunities.

Just after skipping across the playground I experienced a truly horrific moment. Think Edgar Allen Poe and a mighty blade swinging towards one. I was following BGB along a narrow path through the wood. He was dressed as though for midwinter with several jackets and a bright yellow woolly hat. I wasn’t taking much notice of him since he was a few yards in front. Suddenly, horror of horrors, I became aware of something swinging towards me at head height. I had nowhere to go as what I first thought of as a small pumpkin on a string neared me rapidly. Funny how your mind works at moments like these. Just before it whacked me on the forehead I thought maybe the Hares had placed something in the trees to give us a fright, realised it was too small and yellow, then it and the trailing bramble from which it hung slapped me damply. BGB’s rather sweaty hat! Lovely. Posh did the same thing with her long blonde, curly wig and ran on for several yards without realising before she was called back. And Florence nearly lost her cat’s tail to a similar clawing bramble. Actually, Florence gave me the quote of the day at the rain-soaked beer manned (very generously by Desperate’s damp parents) stop later. Pushing up her drippy cat mask she informed me, “I’m a wet pussy.” Before skipping off into the woods to scrape out a small earth hollow for her comfort break.

As we followed Mr Blobby’s flapping cape across the slippery mud of the field after the Beer Stop Lemming and LoudonTasteless (short-cutting with élan) appeared from nowhere. Lemming offered the pathetic excuse of a poorly foot to explain his absence over the last few weeks and we duly enjoyed taking the micky. We got that feeling of dejá vu as we swooped down a well-known (to four of us anyway) muddy hill into the forest where earlier we had enjoyed a False. “I’ve been here before!” Exclaimed Snowballs and Donut and I aired our local knowledge to him superciliously. From here it was a breeze back past the end of my road where we had a choice to either go straight down the hill to the village hall or take a grassy detour. I found myself running on the other side of the road to AWOL who offered me a race with a grin, knowing that he has a bendy leg. Since mine is not so clever at the moment we trotted down to where TinOpener stood by the car park entrance under a large and bright umbrella.

Inside the hall we were met with a hot pie, a cool beer and warm conversation. Cerberus and Desperate had done a great job of cooking the food and handing it out while Billy and Shitfor continually tested the beer to ensure it was of the highest quality. Got to hand it to them all. They did a great job and we all thoroughly enjoyed their 8-mile Hallowe’en Hash and aprés party.

On On.  Hashgate.

Down Downs

RA C5 presented the following :-

Up and Coming