After conducting weeks of Black Opps reconnaissance, recruitment and training, an army of 14 elite force Phoenix Hashers were shipped off to Operation Hash Crash Tucson. Cumming from all corners of the valley, the core group converged on Happy Birthday Fuck You's pad to prelube. Pre-Cum and Mount n'Spread were first, however they did
confuse pre-lubing with something that involved their laptop computers. MnS felt obligated to arrive two hours early to make up for being two hours late for Bisbee, but Pre-Cum – well two hours early was pretty much on-time for him. HBFU was the next to cum(!) followed quickly by Us Her or Loser. Bush-Straddler and My Clit Talks were the next to arrive and command central was abuzz with calls and texts on the whereabouts of the other elite force members.
Heiferfearzen reported in that he'd trade sexual favors if we'd wait for him to join the carpool, but we just made him drive instead.

Brown Eye Girl opted to skip the carpool and get some quality time in with his blow-up boyfriend, Lance. Victor Victoria and B Flat; Beat By a Girl and I Fuck My Sister (formerly Just Jeremiah); and 3IY all checked in to report they were en-route. UPMS, with extra leisure time these days, was already in Tucson. Notably absent was Ima Luuuger who at the last minute pussed out after whining some shit about having some stupid work obligation. He apparently missed the training day where it was explained that hashing takes precedence over any and all work, family or other life obligations.

Technology on trail for the auto-hash to Tucson continued as BEG, having grown tired of blowing Lance entertained us with texting reports on his bodily functions and other ways of amusing himself alone in his car. Being half-minds and lacking any flour or chalk in the cars, there were an overwhelming number of phone calls and texts traded in an effort to try to pre-lube again - in none other than the Safeway parking lot. Soon we had all elite force members accounted for
and the initial penetration force launched. We arrived at the start to find an empty parking lot. There was some talk about whether we had a traitor in our midst who had compromised our mission resulting in the Tucson hashers retreating to a new location; but in short order the hare was spotted in the parking lot. As his fear grew, seeing the PHHH force pile out of cars greedily eyeing his single 12-pack of pre-lube amber nectar, he began frantically calling for backup.

At chalk-talk it was determined that the elite PHHH forces outnumbered the Tucson hashers 14 to 11. Two more showed up later to represent Tucson, but the last-minute reinforcements still left them one short so indeed the match went to PHHH.

Trail was of course shitty and there were not nearly enough dogs on it (reminiscent of V2 and B's Hands Across the Border hash) and almost no Decision Points to be found. There was free pussy on trail, but as free pussy tends to be in Tucson, it was too bloated and stinky even by hash standards. After making friends with some local hobos, the pack reached the on-in where munchies were devoured having earlier run through a free ganga check on trail.

Harlot wisely did not ask the PHHH visitors to tell a joke, sing a song or show a body part. But it was quickly decided that when one Phoenix Hasher drinks, they all drink, which made quick work of the beer stash. So we were treated to down-downs for Pre-Cum's impersonation of Forrest Gump with boot on trail, for MnS's trail-crime of working on her laptop for the entire auto-hash and a bunch of other shit we can't remember. Being slow to learn it didn't occur to the PHHH that when one Tucson hasher drinks, they all drink until the last down-down of circle. Naturally Tucson swooped in on the opportunity to name Just Jeremiah and he shared some heart-warming tales of his youth that he likes to call `I Fucked My Sister'.

The hash went in peace and set out to get a piece with BBAG leading the charge towards the cars until he realized he was drunk and couldn't find the cars. His inability to remove his headgear had caused him to double-down for every down-down so MCT eagerly offered to drive his stick back to the on-after.

Having merged forces as one united front, the Phoenix and Tucson hashers invaded Chuy's where for some unexplained reason all the other patrons seemed to realize they had somewhere else they needed to be. Having the place entirely to ourselves, we turned it into American Bandstand with dancing and karaoke that could only be described as a Dumbo fantasy night. After BS, Loser and MCT cried some shit about needing to drive home, the party REALLY got started with BEG getting pants only to find himself forced to educate us all on how pantsing should result in a full monty – not leaving him half-cocked with no one to finish him off (he must have missed the memo about going commando at hashes).

After being evicted from Chuy's, the Tucson hash treated us to a rare gem, The Meat Rack. The proud owner took the uninitiated on a guided tour of his S&M room as well as the on-site bedroom (presumably to keep his patrons from having sex in the women's restroom). He also demonstrated how he's cleverly rigged the condom machine in said
bathroom to set off an alarm to notify all patrons when they have a hot prospect. Also helping patrons along in their quest to gain access to his pleasure rooms is the bar's willingness to serve vodka by the pitcher as MnS learned belatedly having started chugging what was thought to be a pitcher of water.

Being, as IFMS explained, `Spectacularly Drunk', the PHHH soon started to wonder where the fuck they were going to be sleeping that night. Much time was spent on this topic standing in the middle of a street, but being known for her ability to fall asleep pretty much anywhere, MnS temporarily solved the problem by crawling in the back seat of RU's car. Arrangements were finally sorted out and much to the delight of The Hef, they included a free audio sex show performed by Papa and RU. Meanwhile, HBFU thought she had it made with three hot hashmen only to learn she picked the lumberjacks of the hash who serenaded her all night.

As is the case among hashers, the best laid (!) plans naturally fail, so despite B's and Pre-Cum's valiant efforts, no one actually made it to the planned hike crash. Instead we had a morning-after of fried lard mixed with grease at Bobo's. After tearful goodbyes in the parking lot, and much coaxing from the Tucson hashers for us to stay another night, the PHHH resumed their auto-hash, this time destination Repeat's hash.

On-On
Mount 'N Spread