Name: ZH3 Hash #1107: The French Revolution of 1848
\nLocation: Restaurant Swaad
\nHares: Smoking Cock
\nRA: Weapon of Ass Destruction
\nAttendance: 19 hashers + 1 Canine
\nScribe: D.E.Floured<\/p>\n
As I came round I could see stars behind the silhouettes of treetops. It was night. Where was I?<\/p>\n
Close to my right a voice. \u201cCan you move your toes?\u201d<\/p>\n
The voice said it was Just Ottmar. A figure helped me to my feet and told me we had to keep moving \u2014 despite the sheet ice \u2014 otherwise eagles would trail us. Or the eagles would catch the rabbits. What rabbits? Which eagles? Nothing seemed to make sense. I was cold. My head hurt. I didn\u2019t know where I was. The man insisted we run.<\/p>\n
I stumbled on the uneven and slippery path as he ran effortlessly. He kept mentioning flowers. I couldn\u2019t see any. He seemed worried about not losing a flower in his hair. I could make out lines, what looked like insignia on his bodysuit. Military? It was dark, my head hurt, my spine hurt, I was in an unfamiliar forest without flowers and an imposing soldier was worried about his hair. I decided to keep quiet and obey. I don\u2019t know how long we ran. Later, at the tree-line I saw the movement of lights, then figures. Ottmar called a signal as we approached. We were nearing a city.<\/p>\n
It seemed to be a paramilitary commando. Outlines of a score of people, interspersed in pairs or trios at irregular intervals along a road, some holding muted flashlights. Parachutists perhaps. Parachuted into the forest, where they must have stowed their equipment. Only one was carrying a rucksack. The rest, wrapped head-to-toe in material so one could only see eyes, were unarmed. They had a dog with them, and hadn\u2019t been looking for us, so I think they were hunting the rabbits. Or one rabbit\u2019s flowers.<\/p>\n
I was jostled into the middle of the group. Behind me someone spoke ominously about widows, a naked and wasted body, and chalk outlines. A silhouette shouted menacingly that there were \u201cno criminals in Tsvitzerlan.\u201d They were vigilantes!<\/p>\n
A gang of vigilantes, hunting in the peri-urban region of whatever settlement lay ahead of us, hunting and murdering the families of the seditious and the insouciant. My life was obviously endangered every second I spent among this militia. Despite my disorientation I had to escape. I tried to run. Vision blurry and feet unsteady I attempted to flee down the paths branching from their route. Yet whenever I started in one direction, the pack would double-back or change course. I tried a few times, they persisted; and insisted \u201cBe near, be near!\u201d I cannot remember how long this continued, nor do I understand why they did not kill me on the spot. Only that we ran until weariness overcame my entire body.<\/p>\n
Next in my recollections is the gang standing in a clearing. They were angry. They were discussing supplies, they were meant to restock with super-dense, nutritious energy and multivitamin rations. This was the rendezvous where an agent had been supposed meet them. In their hunger and thirst they cursed the name of \u2018mimi\u2019 their treacherous ally. The only hint of provender was shitty beer. And yet \u2014 on this coldest of nights \u2014 the beer was warm, so \u2018meme\u2019 must have been here recently. Growing evermore vociferous the vigilantes repeated the syllables: mee-mee, m\u011bi-m\u011bi, m\u011bi-m\u00e9i.<\/p>\n
In a flash of lucidity amid the cacophony and the throbbing at the base of my skull I realised they were shouting m\u00e8i mei (\u59b9\u59b9) and that their collaborator was surely the younger sister of a vigilante.<\/p>\n
At that moment I felt dizzy and cold. I lay down. I may have slept.<\/p>\n
At some point in the night there was food \u2014 baguettes and a variety of rather nice cheeses \u2014 combined with the macabre celebration of the capture of their prey, Carlos and LAM. I don\u2019t know where they found the food, yet this night\u2019s hunt had evidently yielded a protesting hispaniard and a subdued visitor by way of Hanoi.<\/p>\n
A ringleader made a mocking lunge-pose and drank some kind of hallucinatory from a special glass, while the vigilantes chanted. They forced Carlos to do the same, while shouting oaths and curses. Then LAM was made to follow suit. Subsequently each of the vigilantes took the mixture to their lips in turn. Through the crowd of bodies it seemed as if with every sip the draght changed color: at times the glass was yellowish, then appeared to be blue, then redder. Until I was made to drink. The lukewarm fuzzy foam stuck to my palate and I swallowed the bitter substance with difficulty. My head spun. The cold wind seemed to cut deeper. I became dizzy. I lay down.<\/p>\n
The next thing I know, I woke up in here.<\/p>\n
As dictated by D. E. Floured, from the Triemlispital on February 22nd, 2018.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Editor\u2019s Note \u2013 Think you can do better? Volunteer to do the next write-up.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Name: ZH3 Hash #1107: The French Revolution of 1848 Location: Restaurant Swaad Hares: Smoking Cock RA: Weapon of Ass Destruction Attendance: 19 hashers + 1 Canine Scribe: D.E.Floured As I came round I could see stars behind the silhouettes of treetops. It was night. Where was I? Close to my right a voice. \u201cCan you […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2743","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-write-up","post-preview"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2743","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2743"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2743\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2745,"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2743\/revisions\/2745"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2743"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2743"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/zh3.ch\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2743"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}