In the beginning of the evening, Chicken Bone Her created the trail. At the first Check, she separated the Walkers from the R*nners. While the R*nners were obedient to her commands, Sleazy Like Sunday Whoring and Cockulus Oculus gained the forbidden knowledge by eating at In-N-Out. Dick Simmons, Slug, Jack The Ripper, On All Fours, Liquor Faster, and Backwash decided to play with their slots. Chicken Bone Her shrugged and said it was good.

At the second Check, Chicken Bone Her separated the Turkeys from the Eagles. She saw Tuna on Top flew in the light of Beer, while Dickweed flew as far away from the light of Beer as possible and generally scorned all hope of redemption.

At the third Check, Chicken Bone Her created Stairs. The Stairs separated the high land from the higher land, and the pack climbed and climbed. Muppet Dick looked at the Stairs and began to wonder if everything Chicken Bone Her did really was good.

At the fourth Check, Chicken Bone Her created the Sun and the Moon, but Hoseblower pointed out you couldn't tell at all because of the Fog.

At the fifth Check, Chicken Bone Her put some painted conures on a wall for Do Her Well and some sea lions around for Cockamole. Joe Pubic Perm, having brought wisdom from his time with the bulls, promised to show how even more of them could be made.

At the sixth Check, Chicken Bone Her remembered that other animals existed and found Sleazy, Motor Mount, and Skid Mark's pooches to give a good belly rub.

At the seventh Check, Chicken Bone Her rested by Backhoe's namesake.

Now, all this time, the San Francisco Hash had been wandering in the desert for almost forty years. Hand Pump had brought out his tablet of commandments, which was just a list of what beers they needed to drink. Boner Marrow had put on his Amazing Monocolor Red Dress, but when he saw the jealousy of the other hashers, particularly Muff Daddy, he had to take it off.

The hashers then suffered from at least ten plagues, including but not limited to: Sharts, Cockspray, Cream of Wheat, and Crabs. Someone tried to cut off Circle Jerk's hair, but luckily Cuming Mutha's crab hat was not sharp enough to work.

The pack groaned about the horrors they had been subjected to, but Sexxx-Ray and Jizzard repented in time and were granted even more beer.  The Perfect Woman, Rocky Bowel Movement, and Dick Ass Mother Fucker all prophesized of a hangover tomorrow for some of the pack.

Finally, Ocean Spray pointed out that a Hash Shit had been discovered in the rushes, lying in a basket. There was much confusion and deliberation as to who should have the Hash Shit. Hoseblower pointed to Dickweed, Just Lauren pointed to Dick Simmons, and Third of a Cum pointed to Do Her Well. Humpy Slocum declared that the Hash Shit could be divided into three. Cockamole couldn't bear to see the sight of the Hash Shit torn asunder, and therefore was proven to be the Hash Shit's true owner. She really needs to stop leaving her belongings in baskets near major waterways.

The End