Run No: 434 - 22 Sep 07 - Irish Bar, Taipa - Bin Liner and the Porn Star


HASH NO. 434: BIN LINER AND THE PORN STAR

No wonder the CIA are unable to find Osama Bin Liner. Our undercover reporters have discovered that he is alive and well and living in Macau disguised as an Australian camel trader. He travels with a tightly-knit group of accomplices which includes a former porn star. In an attempt to conceal their true identity they have infiltrated the local Hash House Harriers, passing themselves off as Mr. Sheik Me Me and Ms. Pubic Plucker.

 

We have evidence that Bin Liner is on a mission to destroy the new Grand Lisboa casino. We are uncertain at this time who is behind the plot, but it is rumoured to be financed by fundamentalist supporters within the MGM and Venetian movements. During training runs last week they refined their plan to use Saturday’s hash as cover for a suicide mission, having volunteered as hares to give themselves control of all aspects of the “Spectacular”.

The bombing run was to follow a well-marked route used by the walkers, to avoid any risk of the bomb exploding prematurely, with the trail passing first through a Buddhist Temple in Taipa for spiritual guidance before setting out on a direct run over the bridge to the Grand Lisboa. The runners were to follow a decoy trail, diverting the military’s attention by being forced to run back and forth for an unspecified period directly in front of Army HQ shouting “Are you on?”

It is known that Bin Liner ordered Ms Plucker to test the width of a gate obstructing the route in case the bomb-carrier should get stuck and have to abandon the mission or take the lives of innocent hashers following behind, who would no doubt have tried to push him out of the way in order to get through first. Whilst the identity of the bomber is still unclear, the main suspect is believed to be a Mr Cunter Ass Thompson, an American double agent who’s nationality and position within an international gaming organisation would be unlikely to arouse suspicion.

The plan began to unravel early on during the hash. Bin Liner had failed to realise that hash tradition requires the hares to lay a trail of flour or chalk for the runners as well as the walkers. During practice runs the ‘hares’ had accidentally dropped some grains of flour along the way to Army HQ, and had left an occasional arcane symbol to help them remember the way. Despite the absence of traditional markings, the runners were led to believe that the marks they coincidentally found did mean that a trail had been laid. After a great deal of trial and error they got as far as the army camp. There being no trail beyond that point, they milled about as planned shouting at one another and anyone else who cared to listen, and did indeed divert the military’s attention as planned for an extended period.

As may be expected, the end result was pandemonium, with runners racing around the Cotai district trying everything they could think of to find a trail, which wasn’t much. Gump disappeared into the distance trailed by the others until one of them asked another, “Are you on flour?” “No, I’m following Gump”. “Then what’s he on?” “F**k knows”, but it certainly wasn’t flour or chalk. The more dedicated but less intellectually-endowed runners decided that the trail must lead up the mountain as most Taipa runs do sooner or later. Once there they somehow found what looked like a trail and spent the rest of the afternoon happily running along it.

Nancy Boy was certain that nobody could be silly enough not to set a trail at all, and summoning his considerable powers of reasoning, decided that it must pass through Taipa Village somehow, so he and Cunter Ass ran in a sweeping arc, and did manage to bisect a trail near the church, which led them to the Kingsville Workhouse, where it abruptly stopped. Cunter Ass then announced that the best ploy would be to run all the way back to the Galaxy roundabout, the last place where they had seen what looked like a definite check.

Nancy Boy’s instinct immediately told him that something was wrong, very wrong. Why was Cunter Ass so determined to find the real trail when they had already been running for an hour and a half and were so temptingly close to the Irish Bar and the beer? This wasn’t in the tradition of the Hash, so quite undaunted by the challenge of keeping up with Cunter Ass Thompson on a long-distance dash, and purely in order to maintain hash etiquette, Nancy Boy decided to retire to the beer cooler.

By this time the walkers had already reached the target, and this is where the plotters’ planning really came into play. They now distributed envelopes of cash to every walker, all containing the MOP 3.30 bus fare back to the nerve centre outside the Irish Bar. With callous disregard for human life they left Leadbelly’s package slightly short in the hope that the bus driver would refuse to let him on. Thus he would not only be consumed in the carnage, but would in fact be blamed for the whole attack, enabling the plotters to escape to Kidnapper’s Bay on the SS Minnow, which was at that very moment drifting aimlessly off the airport runway.

Fortunately for us they had not anticipated their bomber being delayed by our hero Nancy Boy, and taking longer than expected to reach the target. As he was crossing the bridge, Mr Thompson’s life began to flash in front of him. The endless supply of virgins awaiting him in heaven suddenly seemed insignificant compared to the lack of hashing up there, as flour and chalk would certainly not stick to the clouds. He finally came to the conclusion that he LIKED it here and didn’t want to be a suicide bomber any more.

By now he had crossed the bridge and was in front of the casino, but of course there was nobody waiting for him with the bus fare home, so he turned around and set off back. On the way he had a brainwave, and concealed the various bits of explosive on the barges around the Macau Tower, where that night they became one of the noisier parts of the fireworks competition.

He arrived back to a hero’s welcome as nobody but the plotters knew his true identity. By now Bin Liner and the porn star had been discovered for what they truly were, been unmercifully punished with savagely administered down-downs, and having promised not to do anything so naughty again were welcomed into the warm embrace of the Hash. Luckily for the erstwhile bomber, there were even a couple of virgins on that day’s run, so was well in the end and they all lived happily ever after until half an hour later when the circle ran out of beer.

On on

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