SFH3 Run #1815: New Shoe Hash
|:||Golden Gate Park at 9th Ave & MLK|
|:||Buck Fucka y Pole Her Bare|
|:||Do Her Well|
“Tis a blessed day, ladies and gentlemen,” Cockagami’s drawl drew the crowd in further as the last rays of light died in the west. “For we are gathered together here in the presence of our Lord and Savior—” he nodded at Hand Pump, “and we celebrate! We celebrate the redemption that has been brought onto us, mortal sinners, as He has separated the wheat from the chaff and fermented it faithfully.”
The choir behind him took a low note, Roman Showers gesturing unsuccessfully to bring I Cunt Hear You into tune. Weekend at Abba’s and Minor 69er were harmonizing perfectly with their ‘On Ons’, ignoring the fact that Dick Ass Mother Fucker beside them sounded remarkably like a plucked chicken.
“We have good news to bring our brethren, today,” Zippercised announced above the din. “Enlightenment has come to one of our own on this day,” he said shoving Do Her Well forward onto her knees. “After years of searching fruitlessly, a woman has found her way into Brown Eye’s heart.” Perfect Woman shed a tear.
“Pay attention, my congregants, to her shapeless form!” Cockagami bellowed. “You can’t even tell she’s a woman, not that we were that certain before… faith moves mountains, but we demand more evidence for that sort of thing.”
“Sometimes you just have to take that chance,” whispered Good Shit Lollicock to Saigon Sally. “But Abbah was worth it.” Sir Menage A Lot let out a low whistle.
“And now to honor our Creator, Code for Penis will sing us a song as we open our wallets and our Paypal accounts,” Zippercised declared. Code for Penis mouthed ‘I will?’ while Muff Daddy passed around a cap. Circle Jerk leaned over to help him out.
“Oi,” Cuming Mutha yelped. “This beanie’s too wee to fit a brass razoo in.”
“I think he means the mössa can’t hold his klöver,” Blowqueen chimed in.
“It’s too small,” Wee Wee Wee All The Way Home told all the gaping faces.
“That’s what she said,” Udder Moron giggled.
“It’s mine!” Just Doesn’t Get It leapt in front of the congregation, wiggling his thumb in the front of his pants.
“Shit, this is going south,” Cockagami muttered, praying internally to the sky. At that moment, Crabs motored by in a tuctuc, throwing treats at the crowd.
“Great, we’ve got the cash,” Zippercised whispered in his ear as everyone stuffed their mouths with chocolate. “Now bring the brimstone.”
A breeze picked up as Cockagami raised his hand. “We thank most of you for your piety and devotion to the hash. But some…” thunder rumbled in the distance. “Some have strayed from the proper ways.” Backside Banger gulped and shifted to the back.
“Millimeter Peter. One of our very own, here before us today, and what is it that he is clad with?”
“New shoes!” The crowd roared. Shaft began to salivate, and Bitch Pimp could barely keep her dogs at bay. Just Arno got so excited he spilled Zippercised’s beer and was immediately struck by a bolt of lightning.
“New shoes. Do I even need to have a debate?”
millimeter Peter stood demurely. “Will it be the lashes?” he asked hesitantly, batting his eyes.
“I don’t know,” Cockagami responded. “Will it be the lashes?” he asked the crowd. Stinky Floss nodded fervently, and Cockamole brandished her “Lashes 4 mmP” campaign sign.
“How about some Big Cock Chains?” Don’t Tell My Wife About The Big Cock Chains suggested. Jizzard and Deadbeat yelled out in support, and Douchicorn cantered in place with excitement.
“What about a deep cleansing?” Wash This Asshole asked. Mouth Down South cheered, joined in by visitors Pink Cherry Licker and Dung Fu.
“I have something for such a scoundrel,” Got Wood growled seductively.
“This is getting weird,” Fucker declared.
“Getting?” Fuck Buddy asked.
Zippercised silenced the crowd with a glare. “For such a crime, we have no choice but… to make him drink a beer. From his shoes!”
“Aww,” moaned Reverse Schoolgirl in disappointment.
“Not even one lash?” millimeter Peter asked.
“Not one!” Cockagami threatened. “Now go away.”
“We’re lucky tonight to have a new hasher in our presence,” Zippercised announced. “The spirit of Voyeur has arisen and taken a new host body. We have known this man for years but have learned of even more about his self-possession tonight. Dick Simmons—”
“Dick Simmons is willing to go to great lengths… well at least a couple of inches… to capture the perfect moment on his camera. And so tonight, for not stopping even when nature calls, we baptize you in the name of the Virgins, the Justs, and the Holy Spirits… Cockarazzi.”
“Did someone get that?” Cockarazzi arose, face wet with exuberance.
“Oh yeah,” Yessiryesshesfat grinned at him.
“Hares,” Zippercised glared at the pair in front of him. “Pole Her Bare and Buck Fucka you have a lot to confess tonight. Your sins are numerous, your crimes unspeakable, your trail without excuse or explanation. You are lucky *hic* that we had beer to make us forget your sins. But there is one thing you are now held responsible for that shall not go without repercussions… Leave It To Cleavage is… I can’t even say it.”
“She’s leaving!” Cockagami blurted out. “Since I never take responsibility for anything, it’s obviously your fault.” Meh bleated his displeasure and Dickweed shook his fist so emphatically that Whorifist had to look away.
“I’m never coming back,” Just Lars confided to Just Josiah.
“I, uh.. okay?” Buck Fucka shrugged. “The bar’s that way!” he declared.
“Oh, right,” Cockagami was distracted. “Nothing left but the passing of the piece. Piece of Ass be with you!”
“And also with you!” they echoed back. “Piece of ass,” Fuck Norris said to One Night Only, then passing the piece to Ru Ru Rimmin, who decided to hold onto it tightly.
“Is she really leaving?” Sleazy Like Sunday Whoring asked Bitch’s Bitch.
“No worries,” whispered the figure standing beside her. “I think we might find a use for those Big Cock Chains after all.”