Name: ZH3 Hash #1094: Freyza Bolokov
Location: Hare’s Hutch (Saddam) Schaffhauserstrasse 80
Hares: Saddam, Squatty Potty
RA: Weapon of Ass Destruction
Attendance: ~25 hashers, 2.5 virgins
Scribe: Naked & Wasted

A terrible storm descended on Zürich. Rain lashed down, commuters froze, and trees uprooted themselves. Little did the Hash House Harriers know, this disturbance was conjured up by the dark wizard Saddam, setting the stage for an epic quest.

The clouds parted on the morn of the 6th day of February, and a sundry band from far and wide gathered. Their goal: to enter the mystic woods of Zürichberg, cursed by the wizard Saddam, and return, alive. The band gathered for council in a timely manner, except LIDU, who rocked up late having consumed too much Butterbeer on the prior eve. Unwittingly, two virgins from mythical lands stumbled into fray: Just Mitul from the Big Smoke, and Just Gary from Old Hampshire. Just Nina, having only ever partaken in post-quest celebrations and not a quest itself, was also considered chaste. Saddam explained mysterious glyphs that had appeared, and were to appear, in the woods and swamps. The merry troupe departed in search of their precious … beer.

However, merriment soon faded as the easy paved exit from the shire gave way to the wizard’s dastardly tricks. A long check-back at the top of a stairway afforded no smiles (except Saddam’s); neither did the second nor the third. The adventurers battled through the destruction; mud, splintered logs, and felled trees barred the path. The fellowship demonstrated determination: bold alternative routes were explored (Dog Woody heroically scrambled up off-piste after Shamcock). Fallen warriors rose back to their feet, and lost soldiers rediscovered their path. The stress of the trail caused the hashers to turn on each other (for which Slippery’s abuse of the seniors earned him a DD). Nevertheless, the gang’s steady progress could not be abated. The aquatic duo, Fishy H and Fish F, with no hooks to catch them, led the pack from the front, closely followed by Just Tobias. Everyone (probably, nobody was counting) returned to find their precious.

At the post-adventure council gathering, misdemeanours were identified by the elders and punished (rewarded) by ale (cheap lager). Primary culprits earned deadbugs: Dog Woody had hoppy medicine tenderly administered by Virgin Hunter, and How Do You Define Veird was doused much less tenderly by Squatty Potty. To lift spirits, the council sang hymns: the Chicken Song raised the proverbial roof, but Weapons of Ass Destruction’s improvised “Forestiality is best boys, … stick your log in a log” fell a little (lot) flat.

Formalities completed, the company retired to the dark wizard’s hutch. He and sorceress Squatty Potty had brewed three cauldrons of spicy potion. The hashers tucked in readily. Well fed and off their guard, Saddam attempted to poison the remaining survivors with homemade red elixir. Failing that, he attempted again with stronger transparent elixir. It worked.

Hangover aside, many thanks to Saddam, Squatty, and the other organizers for a great hash, circle, curry, and on after!

Editor’s Note – Think you can do better? Volunteer to do the next write-up. Please send “stupid fat hobbits”, “Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul”, and a barrel of Longbottom leaf  to