It was a pint-sized pack for a perfect night, and the trail had more checks than a fat man's kilt. Every little two bob street between William Street and Steele Street had its little dollops of flour, carefully measured with a teaspoon, and every street corner had a check. The runners covered most of it, the sensible walkers mutinied in stages until only the geek pack of Tracka and Ringo were still out. Two beers later they were still out, so Guardy went to their rescue, while the rest went to devour the tucker at Dyke's cottage. Guest lip for the circle was Knackers, who after being thrown in at the deep end proved he could talk underwater with a mouth full of marbles. So scarred is he by the experience he says he won't come back until August. Downs for the hare and the cook, and a few sprinkled around for minor misdemeanours like colour coordinated socks. Mabel told something he thought was a joke, twice, just in case it got funnier the second time, which it didn't. Not a goldfish in sight. Lantern won the major raffle prize, a 1969 Birds of Australia tea towel, while others got the junky prizes like wine, chocolates, porn and DVD players.
Next week's run is being set by Dini from Otto's Grotto, Ulverstone.
On On Dini
Man that is a quick scribe.... The flour is still dry on the trail and the wobbly web has been etched.
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