#306_2: Miscarried Miscarriage

On On, you bunch of shortcutting, honeypot-sniffing cowards.
Let’s talk about Run #306, or as it shall forever be known in the archives of failure: The Miscarried Miscarriage. This run had an absolute abortion before it even started. Miscarriage was supposed to set the trail tonight, but true to his little shortcutting nature, he copped out. Apparently, he spent his night trying to convince everyone to join “The Walking Dead.”rather than disappearing down dark holes.
Disgracefully, several Covid members fell for the honeypot. They were lured away by the promise of “good food.” I mean, really? Who in their right mind would want to eat a decent meal when they could be out here with their mates, choking down badly cut onions and white bread? Your priorities are as warped as a Windows update.
Despite the mass desertion, three brave souls actually bothered to show up at the velodrome. We were led into the dark by WTFAI. Our resident Front Running Bastard Cum Soc was actually a back runner tonight—staying true to his name by trying to put the “cum” in the “sock” and keeping the pack together from the middle was Captain Arachnophobia.
It was actually an incredible run. There were even sentiments floating around that this could have been the Run of the Year. It’s a pity Cum Soc was there to defend his title; otherwise Eno would have had a joint claim with WTFAI given they “organized” the mess together for Ralk(Run/Walk) of the Year. We even had the pleasure of watching the SES practice throwing dead bodies into the forest and recovering them. Educational stuff.
We high-tailed it to the Nerang RSL. A-Mata-Surprise chose well—two-for-one pizzas and beer that didn’t break the bank. We sat, we drank, and we watched people fall down mountains in downhill ski racing and bobsledding. Quality entertainment.
To those who didn’t make it—especially Arsenic and Pepi la Spew, who flip-flopped more than a politician on a podium—you were about as decisive and useful as a condom when someone is already three months pregnant.
Extra poor no show from the GM with some sook excuse about watching the kids. It’s Tuesday night you need to remind your better half that you are required to be at the Hash.
We were going to score it a perfect 10, but since Cum Soc was there to protect his “Run of the Year” status, we reached a consensus.
Official Score: 6.9
OnOn
Eno