Open on a montage of past hashes, set to the theme of "Titanic".
We see scenes of runners lost in Central Park in pitch darkness, groups trying
to find blue arrows under overgrown bushes, entire packs looking shell-shocked
on a golf course in Queens, virgins dropping dead of dehydration in front of
Seinfeld's imaginary apartment. Finally, the screen is filled by an e-mail,
stating that "due to the heat, instead of the 10 mile marathon I'd originally
planned, this will be a H.A.L.T. trail with an air-conditioned water stop."
The e-mail then appears to melt. While all of the transgressions in trails past
are never far from the minds of the pack, truly, they believe in the genuine
goodness of hares. After all, the pack reasons, even the lowly field mouse learns
from its mistakes, so certainly Cree and Mike wouldn't revisit epic disasters
past.
Act One, Scene One, the Bon Voyage party. It is this faith that leads a pack
of forty to the Bowling Green stop on the hottest night of the summer, despite
the dubious track records of the hares. HARDMAN was so confident in the Pavlovian
effect of many down-downs, that he actually ran to the start in the killing
heat, arriving so soaked that the virgins thought that he had taken a dip in
the river. The pack gathers near the waterfront, next to the Customs House,
clutching inhalers to protect them from the ozone-laden air. The camera pans
the hazy skyline, (voiceover of the pack discussing whether or not to run directly
to the Reade St. Pub), coming to rest on a nearby digital thermometer reading
102 degrees. CREE and HOFFMAN finally arrive, and do a minimal amount of explaining
to a number of virgins who refuse to identify themselves. Almost as an afterthought,
they include the hash equivalent of faulty lifeboats, an unemployment check.
The implications of any Hoffman/Cree checks are ignored by the pack, which wave
white hankies after piling their bags on the curb.
Act One, Scene Two, setting sail. The pack trots west into Battery Park, turning
south to the first check. FLUDGATE, cheating early on, runs in the exact opposite
direction, foreshadowing his own personal iceberg later in the evening. At the
very beginning of the trail, MARIE wonders aloud why the marks are so skimpy.
Flashback to a wintertime trail, with marks set in flour against a backdrop
of snow. The first check, at the bottom of Battery Park, is solved heading east
into the winding streets of the financial district. Unfortunately, the marks
disappear quickly, as some were set on top of grates, and the others were set
with a thimbleful of flour. After much running around, the pack comes upon the
second check at the World Trade Center. Despite the appearance of DEVO, who
runs every which way while the pack sweats on nearby corners, trail is not definitively
found. The pack splinters. The SCRIBE takes off after the CARDINAL and ROY,
with a squawking EWA in her wake. The trail they thought that they were following
peters out after six blocks. The labyrinth of office towers bounce calls of
"on-on" back and forth, creating a maddening array of false trails to follow.
Camera spins around to various buildings and corners, sounds of footfalls and
echoes of lost hashers overlay. Finally, the scribe spots the Cardinal heading
down Reade St., so she follows him, hoping for an early on-in. She screeches
to a halt at an unmarked check. The streets are obscured by shifting mirages,
oases of flour turn out to be empty plastic bags or old coffee cups. She runs
around aimlessly, runs out of water near the Dubuffet sculpture, then calls
the hotline. Voiceover of a disembodied Cree, directing the lost to the N/R
Cortland St. station, and the on-in at the Carriage House. Camera view of a
digital clock on the side of Century 21, reading 99 degrees, death count from
the heat wave 14. The scribe is seen doing a passable imitation of Munch's "The
Scream".
Act Two, Scene One. The iceberg is spotted, collision is nigh. The scribe arrives
at the on-in via an early departing lifeboat, a.k.a. 4 train, and finds a bar
full of twenty something hipsters, but not a single hasher save escapees from
physical therapy MIKE B and LESLEY. At 8:30, hashers start to arrive. To add
to the navigation problems, after the train ride north, the pack was directed
to jump off at 49th Street and then to run another section of trail. This is
not exactly seen as a wise choice, rather akin to leaping into the North Atlantic
on a promise that a rescue ship will be along in just a few short hours. Those
that don't demand the on-in location are stuck running another few miles before
finding the bar. Within minutes of getting in, seven have grabbed their bags
and left without a word, including Hardman and Marie. Those that remain are
furious and dehydrated. Cree is working the gathering mob, blaming Hoffman,
who is still passing out tokens at Cortland St. CHRISTINE calls the trail THE
BIG SUCK. [Ed: I know that this extra set of capital letters is a bit confusing,
but Christine specifically asked that her quote be printed in the upper case.]
A chorus of BALD GUYS concur in loud and angry voices. A VIRGIN announces that
he will never hash again just before stomping out. Several more people follow
him out. Mike B compares the complaining to an infamous incident wherein Feinsod
actually raised his voice, following a trail set by the unfortunate Nina Heller.
Act Two, Scene Two. The crash. Just as a large group of hashers stomped away
from the bar, Hoffman arrives, and immediately tries to shift blame to PETER
for allowing him to set a trail. While those hashers caught in steerage wolf
wings and fries, Peter and TOO LONG try to call for order over the din of civilians
and loud music. Cree and Hoffman are called up for their unbelievably awful
trail. Devo gets pushed over the rail for first in. Virgins Lee and Dave are
called up, and Lee displays amazing sportsmanship by agreeing to drink from
his shoe. Returnees Janka, Owen, Kieran and Patrick drink together. Finally,
Cree and Hoffman are elected joint AOTW for engineering the monstrosity.
Act Two, Scene Three. The survivors. It seemed to be the end. But at the last
possible moment, the door lies open, and in charges Fludgate. Apparently, his
attempt at shortcutting backfired horribly, and he missed the token giveaway
at Cortland St. Not only that, but he didn't have any cash to take a taxi to
the on in, and was forced to run from the World Trade Center to the Carriage
House. He leaves immediately, spitting invective and giving the hares the finger.
NON BRITISH DAVE suggests that the committee pass a law prohibiting use of hash
cash for tokens. CRAZY BOB arrives to save the day. On out.