SFH3 Run #2177
: 01/29/2024
: Midtown Terrace Playground Picnic Area
: Cockamole
: Do Her Well

"Is it time yet, is it time yet?" Just Doesn't Get It jumped up and down excitedly.

"No, you have to wait!" Boner Marrow told him. "Is it time yet?" he asked Cockamole.

"It's time... for chalk talk!" Cockamole proclaimed with a wide smile.

"I hate chalk talk!" Rocky Bowel Movement sat down on the pavement and refused to face the group.

"Yeah, chalk talk is for babies!" Dickweed ran away. "Mr. Hand Pump, can I have some beer?"

"I see Do Her Well is on task," Cockamole ignored him. "Gold star to Do Her Well and Cum Test Dummy, too, for paying attention." Slowly the group started to gather. Humpy stealing Dick Simmons' seat only caused a minor poke war, and Cockamole was able to talk over the crying with ease.

"I see Port-a-hottie's brought a virgin, very good Port-a-hottie!" Cockamole continued in a soothing voice. "What do we say to our virgin?"

"Hi virgin!" waved Circle Jerk.

"Hi virgin!" yelled Crabs, whacking the van with a giant stick he had picked up.

"Ok, now everyone needs to pay close attention. Are we ready for our counting practice?" The group nodded in unison.

"What do we say when we see one mark?" asked Cockamole. "Fucker?"

Fucker, disgruntled, scuffed his feet on the ground and muttered after a few seconds, "On one."

"Great!" Cockamole's grin had taken on a slightly painful edge. "Now, Motormount, what about the second mark? Motormount?"

"It's on two! It's on two Miss Cockamole!" Three Fingers' hand was fully extended in the air.

"True, but we need to let our friends respond when they are called upon, ok?" Cockamole corrected him gently. "Ok, how about three marks? MUG?"

"On on! On on!" yelled Sweaty Betty, leaping from his seat and running off into the wilderness, the rest of the group on his heels.

"They never get to the four play," Cockamole sighed. "Muff Daddy, can you chaperone the walkers?"

"Me?" Muff Daddy asked. "Only if you sign this waiver. Oh, and this NDA."


Meanwhile, in the woods, the pack was forced to work together and share to have any hope of finding their way through. Of course, that was easier said than done.

"I think trail goes that way!" Fuck Buddy pointed.

"Oh yeah?" Cockagami retorted. "I think trail goes that way!"

"Weren't you listening at chalk talk, silly?" Meat Hall Of Fame stuck his chest out. "It's a check. Trail can go any way we want it to go!"

"I'm going to run wherever my friends go!" Gondalorrhea decided, heading straight for the hospital.

"I'll always run trail with MUG!" Cockagami declared. "She's my bestest friend."

"I think I'll be an eagle. Ca-caw!" shouted One and Done, flapping his arms.

"Turkeys can flap too!" E=McFucked showed him. "Gee, I'm flapping an awful lot tonight."

"It's getting pretty dark out here," Just Eric noticed.

"Do you think there are any ghosts?" Five Angry Inches wondered.

"Aaaaaah!" they all screamed, and ran uphill fast as they could.

"I have an ouchie," Just Doesn't Get It rubbed his forehead ruefully.


"If we don't know where we should be going, we should go back to the last time we saw trail and try again," Gloryhole told the group. "That's what Miss Cockamole always says."

"I see a mark!" Do Her Well jumped up and down. "It's right there! It's my friend!"

"Me too, me too!" yelled Five Angry Inches. "Let's run fast now! Let's run fast up to Twin Peaks!"

"Oh, oh!" shouted Boner Marrow. "We're not going to Twin Peaks anymore. Let's run up to Sutro Tower!"

"Oh, oh!" shouted Cum Test Dummy. "We're not running to Sutro anymore. Let's run across the middle of this busy street, into the woods, then slide down the side of a hill!"

"Guess how many stairs there are here?" Dickweed shouted.

"A bajillion!" Do Her Well told him.

"Nuh uh, I counted. I counted a bajillion and one! You lose!" Dickweed ran off down the stairs and straight towards the beer van.

"Good job everyone!" Cockamole patted them on their heads. Peekabooby and Wash This Asshole clapped politely. The group settled down with their beer and snacks.

"Parenthood can't be worse than being around this lot, right?" Just Diana wondered aloud.

"Nope," Look Who's Coming To Dinner shook her head. "But I would recommend against placating your child with beer, at least for the first few years."

The End