SITE : KAJANG TECHNOLOGY PARK
HARE :
SHIT CHAN
CO-HARES : ANG-MO-KAU & HALF THE KAJANG
WALLAHS
Parking was right at the end of the Technology Park and easily reached by road. To the west was the oil palms, to the north and east were the factories, and to the south clearing indicating more development.
Before the run, duck porridge was served! Apparently this was Kajang style, indicating
the Chinaman’s priority in life, over and above beers, sex and now runs.
The run started on time, with Scribe calling the
on-on. Sunken-Shit Kevin was close
behind like a loyal terrier. A few
minutes into the old palms, the first check was encountered. Scribe went right towards the clearing to
the right, but somebody shouted on on, straight ahead. Paper then went into old rubbers, up and
down 2 small hills, and at the 2nd the next check was laid and also
easily cracked.
Next was a bigger hill, with steep slopes, but
mercifully unlike the usual Ang-Mo-Kau’s special. The 3rd check was on top. Then down the paper went and into oil palm again. Almost 1 hour into the run, the 4th and last check was in a valley in the
palms. Bomba Mike was observed at the
bottom, quite static and not making any effort at checking. When queried, he beckoned that checkers were
in front. Bullshit, those in front were
not checkers, but SCB’s whom, on realising that they were only a stone’s throw
from the carpark, went straight home, without shouting.
On the left was the limping bulk of Pete Boothill,
dragging his alcohol-laden body on his gout-stricken legs. He was not shouting and obviously heading
straight home on the shortest route.
The pack behind, led by Alan Hardcore, on sighting
Scribe queried “Are You”. When replied,
“Checking”, some smart alex, probably Wank-wank called on on, on their
right. That was paper from which Scribe
came from. He was directed to the right
to check and reluctantly did so, followed by the back pack. Scribe went down the valley, towards the
right, and sure enough paper was found going up the last slope, into a
clearing. At the top, Jungle-Man,
trotted to overtake Scribe and became the first to reach home on paper. Time was about a quarter past seven. A short run, but this was the best the hares
could do, as the run area was bounded by development.
Some greedy bastards were still slurping up the left-over porridge. Fresh watermelons were dished out and See-Kooi-Kiah, distributed his famous Klang fish-balls. When the Box was delayed, nobody complained, as all was almost full!
At 8:15 p.m. RA Wank-wank took the Box first to ordain your new GM, who gulped down beer almost like Seletar’s Champ. Promising Grumpy Larry that he would be short on the Box, GM make the announcements in less then 10 minutes, including time to ice Ang-Mo-Kau for social interruptus.