“Are you sure we can’t just go outside and run trail the normal way?” Douchicorn paced impatiently by the door.
Just Doesn’t Get It shoved him out of the way as he entered, panting underneath a full set of flood gear. He wormed his way out of several jackets, two pairs of galoshes, and a fisherman’s net. “No. No. It’s… not worth it.”
Cream Chugger ignored them both. “Roll to determine whether you advance,” she instructed Cockulus Oculus. “I’ll give you double points for your birthday.”
“Why are we taking turns?” demanded Titty Boo Boo. “It’s a hash RPG, it should be a free for all.”
“Settle down, settle down,” Bloqueen demanded.
“Who died and made you hare?” asked Cunty Butler.
“That was the last campaign, you weren’t paying attention,” Tears of Semen said softly. “Bloqueen defeated Do Her Well and obtained access to the hareline.”
“You arrive at the base of a hill,” Cream Chugger announced. The entire pack groaned. “You see a check,” she continued undeterred.
“Check up the hill,” chorused Reverse Schoolgirl, Tonya Hardon, and Ru Ru Rimmin.
“Sorry I’m late,” Deadbeat shoved his way to the edge of the table. “What’s going on?”
“You’ve been eaten by a dragon,” Tears of Semen declared.
“Oh, I get it,” Deadbeat replied. “Chinese New Year, huh?”
“Stereotyping much?” Udder Moron raised an eyebrow.
“In the center of the check is a fortune cookie,” Tears of Semen announced.
“Eat the fortune cookie,” One Night Only opted.
“You choke on the paper inside,” Cream Chugger declared. “Roll to determine the strength of your gag reflex.”
“Also, no one has solved the check,” prompted Tears of Semen.
“Check up the hill,” chose Dr. Bombardier.
“We already checked there,” reminded Douchicorn.
“Check up the hill,” echoed Dick Ass Mother Fucker.
“Actually, guys, it’s due east,” pointed out Bloqueen.
“I continue up the hill,” The Uniballer announced. “Roll to accidentally run into beer check.”
“Five. A gigantic Malamute ignores you and sweeps Tuna on Top up and carries her along with two virgins to Hand Pump’s van. You take an extra thirty minutes to get to the beer, and by then it’s just PBR. Muff Daddy approaches you, roll if you want to evade.”
“Giggity,” Five Angry Inches declared.
“Roll for pit vipers,” their visitor from Houston declared.
“Snake eyes. You are eaten by a homeless person,” Tears of Semen announced.
“We have reached circle. Visitors are now required to provide a body part,” Cream Chugger told them. “To determine the size of the… Jesus Christ!”
Master Debater put it away rapidly. “It was a sacrificial body part, for my friend Red here.”
“The entire point of hashing by role playing is that we wouldn’t be subjected to the elements!” whined Tricrapylete. Wash This Asshole nodded in sympathy.
“Get over it,” Cream Throat Willy interrupted. “Games are fun, but when reality comes calling, you have to look that one eyed snake in the eye and take it head on. That’s what my mother always told me.”
“Funny, she told me the same thing,” The Perfect Woman said.
“Roll to advance to the on after,” Cream Chugger instructed, and Fuck Norris dove for the dice.