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Never Cums

Sadist and. Madame Mouton's last chance for a 69 Hash

With the Tarmac melting in the Renault garage car park in Gattieres we looked nervously to the hills above and the blazing, unblinking sun, with one question in our minds.

How would we keep the champagne cold?

With the guest of honour, Sadist, also a hare, it was inevitable that were we heading to the Var valley then the hills above or would it be the other way round?

We had several returners and visitors ready for the festivities including I Like Your Boobs with new non-four legged visitor Doggy Style from the Hannover Hash (so sausage doggy style surely - ed).

The run started well with the runners finding the 'inn trail' before a smiling Sadist called them back and pointed them in the direction of a steep rocky gulley leading on down to the main road.

The trail then lead down to the woods surrounding lower Gattieres, in which we were mercifully shaded from the sun.

Flirting with the possibility of a plunge down to the Var, we were led back up to Gattieries village. After some confusion probably caused by the mad dogs and English men being out in the midday sun, the trail was temporarily lost.

UnFortunately, the Harriettes, of which there were several, (including CumsQuicker, Levrette, Doggy Style) led the way and completely missed the Sadist-ic turn off the obvious trail leading off to the right.

I think the problem was that there was no man around to ask directions of.

Once the trail had be rediscovered (by a man) it led to a well known junction in the trail and the cunning Sadist managed to fool the runners (not too difficult - ed) to the extent ILYB followed an imaginary trail with no flour. And worse, La Levrette, followed him as he was obviously such an experienced half-brain.

From Deutsch Doggy Style to Oh La La Levrette in 30 minutes, you have give him some credit for style.

So, the long expected ascent began in the now almost midday sun (cf. Mad Dogs and Englishmen) so only a fool would not be properly attired in full jungle survival wear with Gispert-ian pith helmet and be drinking gallons of water, monitoring your own urine colour and taste on an hourly basis as Perpetual Motion has suggested.

So with this thought in mind the runners were nearly run down by a pompier-mobile, sirens screaming and lights flashing, screeching tyres to the prostrate body of Madame Mouton who was trapped by the semi-conscious Duchess of Cambridge lying astride her.

His excuse was that he'd fainted in the heat but we all assumed the Latin lover-boy had had a rush of blood to his favourite appendage resulting in catastrophic tachycardia and collapse.

With the Duchess roughly rolled off to the gutter, the pompier enthusiastically gave Madame Mouton the kiss of life after which she declared that this was the best Hash ever. (Are you sure about his - ed?)

With Duchess safely dispatched to hospital the survivors made their way to the beerstop high above Gattieres with a panoramic view down to the sea. But...another disaster. Due to the long wait, the champagne had reached room temperature and was quite undrinkable. As consolation Fairy Plongeur gave everyone a piece of his German sausage.

The second half was fortunately a mostly downhill run, with some more cunning false trails, with Cumalot blazing a trail back to the start to be first back, though some unkind (real) runners suggested he had run through some crosses. How likely is that?

The circle commenced in the shade and the champagne was now wonderfully iced and Sadist's last 69 was toasted.

We were also graced buy the presence of dangerous sport enthusiast No Satisfaction and her consort Little Pinkie. Better late than never.

After that we all retired to the garden of the refurbished Hostelerie of Gattieres, now renamed Le Manon. An excellent meal and copious wine with speeches, ditties and birthday cake (thanks Never Cums!)

Fortunately, the Duchess had already paid and his contribution paid for more wine, it's what he would have have wanted (but he's not dead yet - ed).

Thanks to Tosspot for buying the champagne and to Pedo for negotiating with the pompiers to take the Duchess of Cambridge away.

OnOn to the next run!

5-7 September, Dublin Away Weekend
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