Run #1006 - The Glove Cult Conspiracy

September 3, 2001

Hares: Knobslinger and Left Bun
Where: Union Jack's in Woodland
Attendance: 49

CHAPTER 1

The azure sky was slipping slowly earthwards that early September evening. Orbiting high above in the upper stratosphere, the robotic microcam hummed for a second as it focused its lengthy gaze on a group of about 60 lightly dressed individuals who were standing in a parking lot somewhere in the Northwestern section of the North American landmass. They were being addressed by a woman, adorned in a fully optioned plumber's helper, who was standing in the centre of their somewhat mishapen circle. We Tone, as they called her, summoned a chosen few into the centre with her to say a few words to the others who appeared to either immediately repeat them incorrectly or forget them entirely within 30 seconds.

The microcam's multilingual operator, Stanishlavik Mendoza Fitzpatrick, the second, known as Bubba by the crew at Mission Headquarters in Vladivostok, would have refocused the camera's stare if it hadn't been for the gloves. Bubba could barely make out the facial features in the crowd of shorts and T shirts, but, the sight of those 4 gloved hands on a warm summer evening caused the little vein in his portal lobe to momentarily seize and his right eye to commence involuntarily blinking like the lights at a train crossing.

By the time he'd regained partial composure and mopped up the half decalf, choco-latte espresso that was pooling up in his lap after voiding itself from his overturned cup, Bubba realized that the assembled group had broken apart and was headed off in a number of different directions, except for the Krusty fellow, who seemed to head off in all directions. Gloved hands, standing next to each other in the former circle, didn't stay together, making their movements impossible to track together from the only operational, high-altitude microcam at Mission Headquarters that evening.

The group appeared to be following markings of chalk, flour and fagging ("I didn't say that!!" , exclaimed a group member named Baby). Bubba focused firstly on Blue Gloves who seemed to be detailing the evening's events for some later report. Earlier, Black Gloves had appeared more focused on reassurances that Blue Gloves was indeed preparing a report and not merely taking chicken wing orders for later that evening. Blue Gloves took off through a grove of trees, past 2 surprised dope smoking, economy campers and out into a field. The larger group then arranged themselves into a long, reptilian style line that headed East and then South into the local Fish Creek Park. Blue Gloves then criss crossed a parched riverbed and disappeared and reentered the microcam's view as the trees and bushes provided only temporary cover. It was at Bridge number 11, that Bubba noted Black Gloves rejoined Blue Gloves amongst all the others.

Bubba knew his superiors would not be pleased with his report unless he could uncover some meaningful dialogue between them, but, the microcam's antennae were simply no match for the general buzz of the crowd. A green helmeted, 10 year old female cyclist was being reunited with her mother while other group members scoured the area in search of beer or something else they could put in their mouths. Some found a deer and fawn, but, as they were moving quickly, uncooked and there were no buns around (save one left one, claimed by Knobby), the group declined to eat them and headed off again, this time deeper into the forest.

As the gang of regulars slowly traipsed their way through a narrow ravine pathway (with no passing lanes!!) led by someone called virgin Tonya, Blue and Black Glove's conversation developed a more ominous tone. Bubba would later report that Blue Gloves asked whether they had trekked far enough to be approaching Revelstoke and Black Gloves replied that they were definitely beyond Hope. He then added that was a little Lower Mainland humour, but, Bubba didn't get it. After all, he had grown up on the shores of the Caspian Sea, so who could blame him him for thinking this was some form of elaborate code?

Bubba also watched others in the group to see if their comments or actions betrayed any hint of the depth of the gloved conspiracy or how many members might be in their casually dressed cult? He watched Sir Hemmroid latch onto Hottie's tank top to keep from falling down into the ravine. Could she be instead falling for him? Finally, the group emerged from the green thicket and headed South towards an escarpment overlooking the park. Blue Gloves, followed by Hottie at the time, seemed to be looking for something else and found one of the hare's vehicles with beer still inside it. This seemed to please them, but, Black Gloves was mingling with the rest of the pack on the escarpment and Bubba could not decipher whether this was a clever ruse to fool snoops like him or a truly devilishly devious operation.

After a cordial quaffing of mostly liquid libations and some whining about insufficient volume, the group headed back North through the Woodlands community and back to the Union Jack bar. Inside, the microcam's eyes and ears were of very limited use, so Bubba activated his orange Zone 7 alert and within 10 minutes, Agent Thanksfer Themammaries, dressed as a slim brunette waitress arrived at the bar and commenced her cover; serving frothy beverages to the thirsty group. What follows is Agent Themammaries report.

Black and Blue Gloves removed their gloves so as not to draw attention and conspire quietly amongst themselves without anyone noticing (except for perhaps Shack Shock and Pull It who kept asking the surreptitious duo every 4 1/2 minutes all night long, "What's wid da gloves, you wackos??"). Blue Gloves, now gloveless, continued taking notes, but, Agent Themammaries managed to distract Blue for a while with her last name and so snuck a look at his commentary. She later reported that TNT was still expressing concern that her name was being spelled backwards notwithstanding her prior complaints. Sir H. confided that he was not really a regroupie kind of guy and performs better, directing from behind the camera.

As Dreary was stuck in an Austin rainstorm, Choir Boy lept into the fray to fill the R.A.'s position. He immediately annointed seasoned veterans P'tooie, Pull It, Smirk, Xena, LJ and Twisty to the melodically challenged choir. First up were the hares, the Knobbybuns (Slinger and Left) for a parched shiggy, bushy run with "no wimpy popsicles" refreshments. Next came the newboot virgins; Kevin, Darrell, Tonya, Laurence and Yuka (the majority of whom were supplied by Xena, our warrior and recruiting princess).

Batman was downed for advising the Hash that they were running against a red light. Nice to see that someone has their eyes open! Pussy Killer was awarded a brewski for managing to remain outside of an incarceration centre for another year. On that point he also advises that we should not believe what the sheep says as , in his words, "she lies!! . Easy Daddy was downed on the occasion of his last run in Calgary before leaving for Vancouver where he is rumoured to be in a messy love triangle with a coho salmon and a blue herring. That would explain the tartar sauce behind his ears. Tootsie Roll was up for for a recurring sexual offense. While attempting to pass a group of Hashers in the forest, Tootsie was heard to say, "Look out! I'm cummin' up your middle" to which the group replied, "You wish!!" . TNT (spelled frontways) received her 100th run mug as did Hash Test who completed hers some time ago but, was only now being given her pewter.

Hottie polished off the 1/4 yard to celebrate the occasion of her first 69 and was serenaded to the sweet and dulcet tunes of, "Put your left tit over my shoulder...". The eagle eyed Pull It accused Pussy Killer and Skully of attempting a tonsil exchange in the woods.

At this point in the program, Choir Boy attempted to wrap things up, but, We Tone wasn't leaving until she off loaded her gaily fixtured plumber's helper onto her favourite beer recipient, Juan Nut Sue of the northern mexican province of Montepantsalot.

A few other notable excerpts from Agent Themammaries report: Burning Rubber is being forced to wear mismatched underwear due to a drying appliance in her new abode which spins parts of its contents into another dimension. This residence was aquired via Ms. Test Dummy, who can now be recognized by the "double C" brand on her glutius maximus, placed there after a rear entry collision with Camshaft and Choir Boy while she foolishly (purposely??) bent over on trail to retie a loose shoelace. Doris Day was seen giving Chase (canine porion of the Knobbybun household) a doggie massage after which Chase was seen giving him 2 doggie biscuits and smiling and walking away on all 4's. Perhaps a little too much time on Mister Day's hands after the Picasso period on his home ended.

Bubba frowned as he signed his report. He had seen this too many times not to recognize the Glove Cult when it raised its stealthy digits, pinkie extended. But what was their target this time? Who else had they indoctrinated? And were those humongous hooters placed immediately above Kawky's name on the last page of last week's hash sheet a less than subtle clue?

END OF CHAPTER 1

Oh great! Just what I needed!! Another unfinished conspiracy!!! Oh, the WHOREURRRR, the WHOREURRRR of it all!!!

Ed note: Blue Gloves and Black Gloves are fictional characters. Any resemblance you see between them and the much better looking duo of Kawky and Pool Boy means you should cut back on your medications. Bubba is married to Svetrinka Steinberg and they live quietly in a suburban apartment in Vladivostok.

On On!

Kawky Whoureurrrr


Ask Right Bun

Dear Right Bun,

,

Editurds' Notes

On-On,

Yer Editurds


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