Location: Chevron Island
Hares: Swindler & Blue Card
SWINDLER BY NAME……AND NATURE
In what many pundits have described as a momentous week for the ‘evolution of the planet’, during which: 1) same-sex partners were given the green light to say “Aye doo” before pedophile priests in Ireland and 2) the Australia / Europe umbilical chord was finally restored back to health with our participation in the Eurovision Song Contest (ESC), the Gourmet Hash was invited to celebrate the birthday of the man directly responsible for both these extraordinary events.
And whilst it isn’t yet clear just how broadly his influence extended in getting the ‘YES’ vote up in the Irish Gay marriage referendum, there is no doubt about Swindler’s passion and commitment to that urgent cause as there is in his endeavor to getting Australia onto the Eurovision stage.
-“I was 10 years old when I saw the very first ES contest and I’ve been a huge fan ever since although it did piss me off greatly that no Australian ever got to sing on it. That’s why I’ve dedicated so much of my life to having Aussie voices heard. Last year was a breakthrough year for the ES contest when the bearded Conchita got up and it was just a matter of time before the ESC honchos realized that Australia was really a part of Europe. And despite the fact that he looked like a bloody clown with his stupid Sinatra hat and jeans halfway down his crack, I was as happy as a pig in shit watching Guy putting our country on that map.”
While there were many on Monday night who basked in the afterglow of Swindler’s supreme world achievements, there were just as many who begrudged him for being a total failure as a Hash run setter.
-“He may be clever at getting unsuspecting fools to cough up wads of cash for bloody lost causes, but he needs to be coughing up a lot more arrows on Hash trails if he wants to be regarded as a serious Hash man. He’s fucking lucky it’s his birthday otherwise he’d have his arse parked on the ice all night” said an incensed Bent Banana.
A none-too-impressed Miscarriage lamented: “My information is that in the world of philanthropy Swindler’s known as ‘the octopus’ due to the fact that he has more fingers in more pies than most people; but with that many tentacles you’d think he’d carry enough chalk to set a run properly. Fuck me dead!”
In fact, the run was of such appalling quality that GM KB, a man not averse to displays of blatant partiality, refused to have it critiqued in the Circle because “it’s his birthday and I won’t have anyone offending that useless ole c#%t.”
-“That’s a first” whispered a gobsmacked Sir Rabbit, “I’ve missed 2 runs in 36 years and I’ve never seen that before. Bloody disgraceful. ‘Bout time we put this bloke out to pasture and got a decent GM!”
Thankfully, the nosh was an entirely different kettle of fish. Dished up on his yet-to-be-paid-for ‘Rectum’ deck, illuminated Gold Coast skyline as a backdrop, the Hash was treated to an array of delicious canapes (the type Swindler enjoys whenever he’s swanning around the world saving the Borneo rainforest or the Arctic ice shelf or even China’s Panda). It was followed by an exquisite Paris-style consommé, and for Mains, a sumptuous steak of Uruguayan grass-fed beef which he has (regularly) home-delivered as a thank you for his unrelenting campaign to save the Patagonian Toothfish. A veritable feast, all skillfully outsourced and all washed down with donated Crown Lagers and unlimited Penfolds Grange very much to Rug’s taste.
Being an enormously popular personality, much like Al Capone was popular with the Chicago underground, Swindler’s ‘friends’ turned up in droves. KG made his way down from Hong Kong where he runs that territory’s Triads, Nutcracker flew in from Moscow where he and Swindler are on first name basis with Vladimir, Darren rode in from Dubbo, etc, etc. All spoke very highly of Swindler’s impeccable ‘savoir faire’ and big heart.
In the Circle, both Show Pony and Truck Tyres were charged for being losers. Trucky for losing his wallet and bag and Pony for losing his head once again and proposing to wife no.7.
While Swindler was spared, son Darren was iced for being Swindler’s unfortunate offspring.
Flasher was iced for lack of decorum and respect, dressed in full Jihadist attire, looking for an Irish gay bar to bomb.
VD was iced by the RA for the heinous crime of telling the truth. Having argued that (protected species) Swindler should ‘swing’ for destroying wholesome family values and promoting “poofter love and marriage in Ireland”, he promptly pointed his wooden Prick towards Caustic Crusader whose birth place made him an obvious accomplice to the crime.
VD was then asked to rid himself of the Useless shirt and so advised the Circle that he was delighted to see Trucky’s head firmly attached to his neck because “there’s every chance he’d lose it otherwise. He’s a bloody born loser,…and totally Useless as a result.”
After much backslapping and high fiving Swindler’s incredible achievements, Moonbeams ended proceedings with his ubiquitous: “End of Circle.”