It was a beautiful evening, after a trail that had taken them through the best shiggy Potrero Hill had to offer. Just Serg toasted Deadbeat, while Cum Test Dummy, Gloryhole, and Bush And A Rack perused the orange food. Sleazy was expounding on the sights and scenes of SF with visitor Rock Paper Strippers, and Sperm Donor smiled at his decision to brave the bridge troll to join the members of SFH3 on that fine evening.

"It's sticking out-- the bone is sticking out of my leg!" Bierectional looked slightly dismayed. Fix Her Up Her handed him a moist towelette.

"Do you need a beer?" Muff Daddy asked.

"I'm not gonna be able to hash for -- like four weeks." Bierectional whined.

"That's nothing," Cream Throat Willie complained. "My company has me on permanent work from home, 24/7 for the next four weeks. They even gave me this ankle monitor."

"That looks like a prison ankle monitor," Cosmopolitits pointed out.

"How do you know that?" asked Tuna.

"I know... things," Cosmopolitits widened her eyes. "Nevermind!"

Can't Rush Anal roared up. "Hi guys! I'm going on an awesome cross-country adventure. You won't see me for four weeks." They could barely hear her over the sound of the engine.

"I'm going on a cross-country adventure too," Dick Simmons informed them. "Gotta stock up on my blackmail material before I leave." He snapped a pic.

"Dude, that was a great trail," John Handcock gave Chicken Bone Her a high five. "I think I've reached the pinnacle of hashing. Good sunset views, a beautiful full moon, I can't speak how truly and deeply this trail has touched my soul. In fact, I think that I won't be able to hash until the glory has faded from my eyes... something like--"

"Four weeks?" One and Done asked. "Guys, does anyone think it's really weird how everyone is going to be out of town for four weeks?"

"It is just before summer," CPA shrugged. "Lots of great opportunity for travel, exploration, going on cruise ships and hanging out with large groups of people you don't know. It's not surprising that we're going to be lower in numbers for a while."

"Guys, doesn't anyone care about my ankle?" Bierectional complained.

"Your ankle. Your ankle!" Just Doesn't Get It cried. "Doesn't anyone realize what this man has been through tonight?" He pointed to Big Cock Chains. "This man and his poor canine were brutally terrorized by a high speed vehicle in our very backyard. No more can we trust that people will follow common traffic laws and simple civility. No, no more can we rely on basic human decency."

Bierectional's foot fell to the ground.

"I am staging a protest," Just Doesn't Get It continued. "Do Her Well and I will not hash for four weeks until our demands are met."

"What demands?" asked Do Her Well.

"More sex!" suggested Muppet Dick.

"More beer!" suggested Jack The Ripper.

"Mandatory self-isolation and the closure of everything we know and love!" screamed Circle Jerk.

"After we moon everyone at circle, you'll be lining up for that," Vagina Dentata smirked, while Limbo Bimbo and Stinky Floss tugged at their belts threateningly.

"I think we should move these proceedings right along," Cream Throat Willie coughed. "There is a very special time in every harriette's life, when they achieve their first necklace."

"Men can get pearl necklaces too," protested Humpy Slowcum. "It's just basic science."

"Not what we were referring to," Cream Throat countered.

"Since when did he start referring to himself in the third person?" Wrinklepecker whispered.

"The time comes when a harriette is awarded a hash name," continued Cream Thoat Willie.

"Men can get hash names too," protested Masterbaster.

"I am describing a particular situation," Cream Throat Willie enunciated carefully. "For a particular person."

"Here's your necklace, Puke Caroline!" Dildo Baggins threw it in a perfect arc to land squarely over Puke Caroline's cranium and onto her neck.

"Oh, oh shit!" Puke Caroline screamed. "I'm allergic to hash necklaces!"

"Someone give her mouth to mouth!" screamed Dick Ass Mother Fucker.

"No. Nooooo." Puke Caroline held up both hands. "But I am going to need nearly four weeks to recover. At least."

"Again, people," One And Done held out both hands. "Does anyone not think it's odd that we all have plans for the next four weeks?"

"Even if people have plans, we'll definitely have a beermeister," Hand Pump told them. "And that's Backside Banger."

"I thought it was gonna be you, Hand Pump?" Backside raises his eyebrows.

"Exactly what I said," Hand Pump muttered and wandered off.

"Well I know what I'm gonna do," Good Shit puffed up his chest.

"Stay home and drink?" Fuck Norris asked.

Bloqueen and Wash This Asshole, listening to this sensible advice, both drained their vessels.

"Not me," Rhythm Method told them. "I'm going to get older, eat some cake... and stay home and drink."

"I'm going to work on some old motorcycles, philosophize about life... and stay home and drink." Dickweed nodded.

"I'm gonna look into the stars, do some maths... and stay home and drink," Millimeter Peter declared.

"I'm going go to work because people gotta shit," Wee Wee groaned.

"But we will always know that we have each other," Just Get It Over With reminded them. "Near or far, that's what the hash is all about. Even if for reasons completely unrelated to each other none of us attends the hash for four weeks."

"Cheers to that!" Shaft clinked his glass against Backwash's, while Deadbeat toasted Mary Tyler Whore.

The End