Subtle twangs of a banjo sounded in the distance. Two Beds One Nightmare looked up from his hotel room desk as if a primal call had sounded within him. Millimeter Peter shivered, but shook his head when Wee Wee shot a concerned look at him. Hand Pump slid the door of the van close, a somber noise that made Muff Daddy pause as he collected from Big Cock Chains.
Ciruqe du So Lame looked at the sky. “It’s a good wind that blows no ills, and I have a mighty storm brewing within me.” Uber Luber edged away slightly.
Lost In Foreskin stepped before the gathered pack, and an unusual silence fell.
“Y’all look like yer in the mood to play,” Lost In Foreskin drawled. Infinite Butthole shifted from one foot to another, and Stinky Floss dropped her eyes.
“Well?” Lost In Foreskin twirled his flour bag like a bolas. “Are ya?” He spat on the ground.
“Yessir,” Fit Bitch jumped to attention, his virgin staring wide-eyed beside him.
“I’ll tell y’all one thing and one thing only. Whichever direction y’all choose to run tonight… whichever way yer feet will take y’all… it’s wrong!”
“Wrong?” Asked Bi-erectional.
“Got it in one, bucko,” Lost In Foreskin chewed his lip. “See here, y’all will want to run. Y’all will be beggin’ me to let you run. And oh, I’ll let you. But whichever way you pick, y’all ain’t gonna escape.” He let out a low chuckle.
“Escape?” Bi-rectional repeated.
“Are you stuck in a loop, boy?” Lost In Foreskin snorted. “I see this one’s slow. I’ll give you an example. See this here knife?” When Bi-erectional nodded, he continued, “Well which way would you run to get away from it?”
“That… that way?” Bi-erectional pointed.
“Go on, then. Show me.” Lost In Foreskin grinned, revealing at least two missing teeth.
Bi-erectional choked out a sob and sprinted off. In a flash Lost In Foreskin’s knife flew threw the air and Bi-erectional was cleaved in two.
The pack broke and scattered in all directions. Tricrapylete leapt on top of the pagoda, kicking Good Shit so he couldn’t follow. Cowlick pulled up in a getaway car, and Shaft clung to the roof. Tonya Hardon ran around in circles until she got dizzy and had to sit down.
“Don’t get any closer, I have pepper spray.” Just Get It Over With was dialing 911 on her phone.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” Lost In Foreskin grinned.
“I’ve seen a lot of slasher films,” Just Get It Over With continued. “I’m behaving sensibly and calling for help from the police. I have self-defence supplies and I can scream really loud. I’m not planning on going off on my own down a dark alley to investigate a mysterious sound. And the slut/saint female dichotomy in horror movies is so overplayed, so don’t call me a pretty girl.”
“Sorry I offended you,” Lost In Foreskin grinned. “You think you have it all planned out? Maybe you shouldn’t have counted on me acting alone.” He pointed at Likes It Small, Dickweed, and Sleazy, all lying in a pile a block away.
“No problem, most people’s opinions aren’t worth taking offense over,” Just Get It Over With replied. “And did you mean Who’s Your Daddy? He’s still at the bar. Chicken Bone Her was just laying carnage to help him out.”
“Oh,” Lost In Foreskin paused. “In that case I’ll be on my way. I have the rest of the pack to take care of, you know.”
“Of course,” Just Get It Over With stepped to the side.
In one move Lost In Foreskin had Fuck Norris and Wrinklepecker trapped in a gator pit, Primal Vagina unable to save either of them. Tripwire took down Tuna On Top, while a carefully placed Chinese Firecracker scared Circlejerk so much he ran into traffic.
“You can’t kill me!” Cried Rong Jon, sliding down a pipe on the side of a building. “I’m King of The Gypsies, I am.”
“Course not,” Lost In Foreskin agreed. “A King such as yerself deserves a grand ceremony. And gifts.” He pulled a giant bottle of moonshine out of his sack, and Rong Jon’s mouth watered.
“No!” The Perfect Woman grabbed it out of his hand. “He’d have you dead from methanol poisoning, King. Let me show you!” A single swig, and The Perfect Woman was no more.
“Huh,” said Rong Jon, taking a sip. “Tastes fine to me.” He wandered off.
Lost In Foreskin continued his blood bath from the streets of Chinatown up to Grace Cathedral. Douchicorn, so much of an FRB that he had no idea half of the pack had been slain, realized too late that he should not have let that homeless man steal his phone earlier in the night. Dick Simmons was too busy to use his phone as a camera to remember it could call for aid, and Just Evgeni thought this was all normal for a hash, and so did not even cry out when he too was felled.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Roman Showers was on her knees. “You can’t kill me. I’m pregnant!”
“Who’s Yer Daddy?” Lost In Foreskin asked.
“No, not him…” Roman Showers looked at Backside Banger, then back at Lost In Foreskin shrewdly. “It was my brother.”
“Yer brother? Do ya think that sorta thing’s normal?” Lost In Foreskin sneered, but then his face broke. “Aww, shucks, I bet he’ll look twice as much like his mama. Git outta here!”
Buck Fucka leapt on top of Lost In Foreskin in his moment of distraction and rode him like a pony. But Lost In Foreskin swung around and shook him off into Ru Ru Rimmin, who were both taken out by a streetcar.
“How’s it going?” Who’s Your Daddy strolled up. “I’ve gotten Dick Ass Mother Fucker, Dildo Baggins, and Rent Whore. Well, she didn’t have a pulse, but she was still talking, so in the ‘Maybe’ category for now? I saw Brown Eye following Whorifist down that alley, think they might be laying a trap?”
“Dunno,” Lost In Foreskin grinned. “Either way, let’s make ‘em squeal like a pig!”
“AAAAAHHHH!” Two Beds One Nightmare swung into view from above on a rope, heading towards the two hares like a cannonball. In one arc he slammed into both of them, knocking them against the wall to their final demise.
“Oh my god, thank you!” The Uniballer came out from behind a bush, with Masterbaster close at his heels. Tears of Semen wiped a bead of sweat from her brow.
“Who are you?” asked Bloqueen. Gloryhole cast a suspicious look at the man.
“I’m Two Beds One Nightmare,” the man introduced himself. “Visiting from Memphis!”
“You saved our lives!” Pepe Le Poop proclaimed.
“Well I wouldn’t go that far,” Hot Dick grumbled. Ice Box slapped him. “I had it under control,” he insisted.
“It was nothing,” the man continued. “Really what I’d expect of any hasher.”
Mary Tyler Whore laughed. “A lot more than I’d expect from this lot. We owe you a lot.”
“Really?” Two Beds One Nightmare asked with interest. “That seems incredible. Where I’m from we all know how to do our part. But please tell me, I’d love to know-- How on earth can you end the hash if the hounds don’t kill the hare?”