That's right. Four days later, and I may still be drunk. This hash trash will likely be as much of a cluster as the hash itself was.
Anyhow...... there we were. Our previously safe and clean southernmost harbor was invaded by the dirty ship containing the Jolly Roger H3 and friends. As it issued forth its unclean emissions, challenges were shouted far and wide across phones and internet to the Key West H3 and we reported to Mallory Square for battle. Some of us were slightly tardy/'tarded because of an apparent scout party or two landing the night before from Tampa. Speaking of which, I'm still not sure what happened that night, but some of us may or may not have woken up with titty sprinkles on our faces. I know I personally was sore in all the right places from dancing for hours at the Green Parrot. That's all, I swear.
Back to the story......the hares (Dead Travelin Fister, 4" Spike, and Menage A Neuf) showed up finally after fighting their way through some shitty festival traffic with roughly 20 cases of beer in two huge rented coolers. There was much rejoicing and haberdashery sales and trading. Finally circle started and the hares were blessed.
As I ran ahead of the pack, comfortably close enough to hear their ramblings and songs, I suddenly heard the shrill screams of a young female tourist floating sweetly through the air from the back of a trolley. Since XSNRG was almost directly behind me, I immediately knew what was happening. "IS THAT AN IGUANA?!!!", she shrieked, barely pausing for air. "IS IT ALIVE?" XSNRG replied with some kind of sarcastic retort and there was a minor back and forth. And then it happened, the most glorious response I have ever heard given to a muggle mid-trail from one of our Jolly Roger visitors.
"SHUT UP YOU C!NT, DON'T YOU KNOW IT'S DEAD IGUANA DAY!"
As the pack howled with laughter and I almost tripped over the curb in my mirth, I thought to myself, "Self. This is when the aliens show up." And so I picked up the pace, leading the pack On-In behind the bank on Simonton Street. I proved to have some powerful ESPN as we circled up, since the aliens showed up withing five minutes of our arrival and the dulcet tones of Kumbaya were offered up immediately. Luckily HNIC took the reins and spoke with the officer. The conversation went something like this.
HNIC: Sorry officer, we'll only be here briefly to meet up and then start a pub crawl.
Alien: Sir, that's not why I'm here. We were called with reports of a live iguana on a leash being dragged by one of the members of your group.
HNIC: Oh. Well actually--
Alien: Even though iguanas aren't protected, you need to release the iguana immediately or someone is going to jail.
HNIC: Oh ok. Sure, we'll let it go. (at this point I'm dying as there is very obviously a very dead iguana with no eyes hanging out near the beer coolers).
Iguanas aside now, we continued with circle, properly awarding or accusing deserving wankers. Some amazing beer boarding took place with the FRB and FBI, thanks were given to the hares for their sh!tty trail, and most importantly, we thanked Jolly Roger H3 for invading our island.
But we weren't done yet, oh no. Now the pub crawl began! Our first stop was the Cork and Stogie, where the loving owner Dave Sr. made us a pretty sign and gifted us with the best craft beer $3 can buy. I'd have been happy just drinking there all day, but the demands of you wankers kept us moving. On to the Salty Angler, where hash friend and owner Amy had $3 beers, ciders, and margaritas (which started doom for certain hashers, ahem Menage a Neuf). Then it was Bourbon Street where in true hasher style, everyone got naked and played volleyball in the pool and some people acquired a new husband or two.
But I had a blast this day, and hope everyone else did too!!