SFH3 Run #1611: FHAC-U Takeover
: 2013-07-15
: Villaincourt Fountain (FiDi)
: Ska Skank Redemption
: Broken Boner

By now most of you have read the FHAC-U propaganda that the Hare sent out.  The Hare, the self-titled Cuntess Ska Skank FatDemption, Guest Fluffer at San Francisco H3, Co-Religious Headvisor at Silicone Valley H3 and Hare-tweezer at Silicone Valley H3, Fhagnews H3, East Bay H3, wants to make all of you who weren’t in attendance think that we SFH3ers greated the FHAC-U invaders as benevolent liberators from so called “R*cist Overlords.”  Nothing could be further from the truth. Though in a moment of weakness I, Broken Boner, gave into my haring addiction and contributed in a minor capacity as the purchaser of Vitamin J, I had no idea that fruits of my minor labor would be associated with the calamity that took place.


The Off-HASH-al Trash


On the evening of Monday, July 15, 2013 at roughly 1500 hours, Ska Skank, arrived in our heavenly city by the bay, having escaped from her silicone prison.  She immediately started working towards her evil plan to get all of San Francisco drunk and topless.  As she marking our fine city in her barbaric runes which cause our chaste, virginal harriets to show their breasts in public against their will, she had signaled for her four horsemen of the BeerPocalypse Yellow Prick Load, Today is Monday, Got Wood, and Nothing Interesting to start making their way to our pristine, sober city.


At 1800 hours, the mind controlled Broken Boner arrived at Vaillancourt Fountain with FHAC-Us secret weapon, PIE. At this time, a police officer had already been posted at The Hare’s request to make sure that Hand Pump doesn’t take one for the team and drink all of the beer, and spare the hash from having to consume frothy poison and cause them to lose precious seconds off the marathon PRs.  As the pack started to gather Muff Daddy had arranged for a yoga instructor to lead No Shit, Whack A Boobie, and Shaft in their pre-run stretches.  Disgusted by this noble display of health, the fearsome Tyrant Nothing Interesting, lifted his kilt and petrified the yoga instructor when she gazed upon his braided taint hair.  The Hare waited until the entire pack had arrived to spring her trap.  She frantically drew runes on the ground, mesmerizing into silence.  As the Pack started at her with blank zombie like eyes, she taunted of the torture that they were about to endure in the form of standing still for more than 5 seconds, having to see, smell, and taste alcohol, pizza, chips, and the ever dreaded PIE.  With a shout of On On! the packs daze was lifted and they ran off, hoping to get in their daily 15 mile run.


Mere steps from start, the first FHAC-U trap was sprung!


At least half of the pack was snared at Pizza Orgasmica’s intoxicating sent and the yellow rune pointing into it.  Having never tasted anything but manna from heaven, the snared hashers stood around confused but were eventually ordered to order pizza and beer by the Horsemen of the Beerpocalypse.  [See end of the trash for a partial roster of those who were permanently zombified by the FHAC-U invaders and endured the sudsy death march through Bamboo Hut, Tunnel Top, and Lefty O’Douls and eventually to the dreaded Portsmouth]


Grand MasterMillimeter Peter, avoided the snare lead the most fortunate of the noble pack on their 36km fun run, though was eventually stopped at the Portsmouth


At the Portsmouth On All Fours, I Love The Taste Of Cock In The Morning, and others had been forced to bombard the pack with miniature chinese explosives.  Here the final weapons were used, as the pack, Fantastic Running Brethren and drunken zombies alike were forced to drink Deschutes Fresh Squeezed IPA,and eat the vile, caloric PIE. Beer Biker almost evaded FHAU-U capture when he disguised himself as a stripper at a bachelorette party, until he lifted the bachelorette's skirt and found himself looking at Nothing Interesting’s taint tendrils.  For a moment the pack thought they had been saved when, the Appleonion Cherry Poppins arrived late, having been on a reconnaissance mission in the silicone netherworld.  He lept over the Portsmouth fence and shouted “Fear Not, I shall send these foul demons back to their silicone hell!” Unfortunately, before he was able to close his mouth, TIM, had administered a mouth to mouth dose of IPA, turning the almost hero into another drunken zombie.


In a final effort to repel the FHAC-U invasion, the pack returned to Vaillancourt Fountain and formed a Circle of Power.  Though our Religious Advisor Wee Wee Wee All The Way Home chanted powerful incantations, the Tyrant Nothing Interesting spouted his southern bay obscenities and threatened to lift his kilt once more if SFH3 didn’t bow down to their new FHAC-U overlords.  An unknown hero, rumored to be Straight To Hell captured and unattended pie and  struck Nothing Interesting in the face.  This distraction allowed Wee Wee to use her most power spell to free the pack, shouting “MAY THE HASH GO IN PEACE.”  As the pack snapped out of their daze they shouted “MAY THE HASH GET A PIECE!” As the FHAC-U turned into pies and flew away defeated, the pack ran back to the safety of their homes, hoping they can live the rest of their lives only running, and never having to drink ever again.  A rumor has been spread that some of the pack hadn’t fully shaken off the FHAC-U spell and continued on to Elephant and Castle, a vile place, to consume more beer in secret.


A list of some of the hashers who were caught by at least one of the bars:

Mary Tyler Whore

Just Get It Over With

3x a Virgin

Back Side Banger

Just Tim

My Uncle’s Girlfriend

Good Shit Lollicock

Fixed Queer

Whos Your Daddy

Bitch’s Bitch’s Bastard

Just Crystal

Can’t See His Dick For The Weeds

Cumming Mutha

Gobble My Ass

John Handcock

Dick Simmons

I’m Drunk



For all the forgotten hashers, a memorial has been constructed, consisting of an eternally running heart rate monitor readout.

The above has been a field report from Halfmind Negative-Fifth Class Broken Boner


Additional notes


To make up for all of the miles most of us missed from our stringent running routines, I Broken Boner will set a 2620 mile long trail next monday.  Marks might be a bit spread out as I will be flying back from Washington DC and will be marking trail by flushing flour down the plane toilet.


BTW - Did you notice how the SKANK removed the u out of the blessed word RUN and replaced it with a drawing of her asshole: (_)*(_)