“We are here live at the opening ceremonies for the San Francisco Hash House Harriers, and the festivities are already mired with controversy.” Wine Rack winked at the camera.

“That’s right!” Humpy gestured dramatically at the white wall of fog behind him. “Behind this bank of fog, the most debaucherous and depraved events imaginable are taking place. Trust us, we never lie.”

“Sexxx-Ray and Boner Marrow are overseeing the night’s events, and they have promised to leave everyone sweaty, tired, and begging for more punishment. Rocky Bowel Movement has twisted himself up with more kinks than you find at Folsom, and Cuming Mutha gave himself a good solo flogging already.”

“That’s right, Wine Rack—would you believe that Cockamole and Muppet Dick just stood there watching him? I wouldn’t either, because I doubt they could see anything.”

“It sure sounded good. But if that’s not your thing, keep your ears perked for sexy sweet chirps from Just Doesn’t Get It. Apparently the bird world isn’t all that into monogamy-- at least the hawk hanging out by Stern Grove wasn’t scared off by Do Her Well. Hawks don’t care if you gawk, boys.” Wine Rack smiled and cupped her ear. “A little birdie told me Hoseblower and Blowfish have backed out of being birdsmaids, but I’m sure Jack the Ripper wouldn’t say no.”

“Meanwhile, you might have hoped to see more of Gloryhole and Masterbaster if you went uphill, but that is entirely and utterly Not. The. Case. No, it’s just even more fog, so even if Damien the Antichrist, Cum Test Dummy, THUNDERPISS, Pomegranate Pullout, Fuck Buddy, Five Angry Inches, and Circle Jerk were reenacting a satirical Last Supper for Dick Simmons to take a video of, you would never know.”  

“Didn’t they need more people than that?” 

“It’s a metaphor.”

“Well if you need something else to get your fill of scandal, I heard One and Done accused Diarrhetos of flagrant cheating.”

“Oh really?” Humpy looked surprised.

“Showing up at the hash on time? Almost as bad as the doping Touchmaster 69 is up to—we saw her coming out of that Taco Bell. Worst of all, to Lost in Foreskin’s chagrin—the down downs are bigger than ever.”

“Ah, Lost in Foreskin has already gotten me in trouble tonight for violating international boundaries.” Humpy sighed. “Thank god that there’s enough fog in the air that we declared ourselves in international waters and sailed off into the distance with Fucker and Shaft.”

Wine Rack nodded. “Sounds legit. Muff Daddy gave me a green card earlier, but I think it might have just been an old club cracker from Hand Pump’s van.”

“I’m sure it will all work out—just like with Backwash and Wash This Asshole, who felt like they got teased all night long. But even they were satisfied eventually.”

“I think we’re wrapping up here, folks. On All Fours and Peekabooby are processing the refunds, while Hoseblower and Scarf are manning the fog lights so no one trips on that third MUNI rail. Meat Hall of Fame is set to file all the FCC complaints directly under the tap in the beer van. Thanks for joining us. On out!”