Nigerian Redemption Hash

Run #896, June 16, 2003
Hare: Dr Who
Scribe: Oozing SD
Location: Tiverton
Weather: High 70s, Clear
Present: WIPOS, Async, Bondo Jovi, Basket Boom Boom, Oozing SD, SESYB, Fuwangi Boner, Birdbrain, Jake, Ben, Seamus.
Commemorating: An opportunity to save the life of the son of the former Prime Minister of Nigeria.

The Run:

Sept 14, 2003

Dear Mr. Rhode Island Hash House Harriers,

I was given your name as someone of a position in trust in your country and am writing you to ask your assistance in a most delicate and impotent endeavor. I am Dr. Massif Oldongi WHO, the son of the former Prime Minister Dr Abusa Mawangi WHO of NIGERIA. Upon my late father's indubitable assassination in 1999, I and my two sisters Mabooty and Matwatty were forced to flee our assurient homeland and proceed to nearby BONDOLAND. We were able to escape with a portion of the contents of my fathers fortune, made by him honestly by breeding, herding, and selling the sacred OomeGoolie birds in the veldts of the Fugawi. As you know, their eggs contain a powerful and rare aphrodisiac much sought after by elderly and bearded brewers and runners. But I digress, and time is short! 

This fortune amounts to TWENTY FIVE MILLIONS (25,000,000,000,000) of your US DOLLARS. Because of our special status in this land, we are surrounded by those who would steal our fortune and we have conceived a plan for our escape. We cannot risk bringing such a large and purulent sum with us. But, we do have access to the INTERNATIONAL NIGERIAN SUKKABANK. Our agent is prepared to wire from this bank the sum of TWENTY FIVE MILLIONS (250,000) of your US DOLLARS into a US Bank. Our problem now: to find someone to trust. We know it will be hard to believe, but we have heard your ineffectual praises sung across the broad Kalahari. We would be most grateful to you for your assistance in this important and inconsequential matterand will certainly expect that for you refforts, we would reinflate you with TEN PERCENT of this fortune, or THIRTY SEVEN THOUSAND (19.55) of your US DOLLARS.

 These affectionate arrangements can easily be made. Please make haste to reply to this email with the following information:

            Your current Bank Account Number

            Your current Credit Card Numbers, and Expiration Dates

            Your Social Security Number

            Your Home Address and Burglar Alarm Code

            Your High School Locker Combination.

We know that our missle might be viewed with some alchemic scepticism and we offer the following proof of our sensationalism: Our cousin, the Slasher Dr WHO will provide insurances for you if you doubt, Monday, June 16, promptly at SIX THIRTY (9:14) PM in TIVERTON, RHODE ISLAND. How, may you ask, do I gain receipt of these pruriences? Simply meet with our indefatigable cousin, and he will lead you On On into the dark night of NIGERIAN redemption.

WHO of the Jungle.

Sept 17, 2003

Dear Mr Rhode Island Hash House Harriers,

By this time you will have been in reception of a fine athletical event sponsored by our cousin, the Slasher Dr WHO, in fine Tiverton, RI. He has assured me that the trail was most facultative and will be rated the run of the year without exemption. He has forwarded to me the desecration of his run by one Oozing Syphilitic Dicktaphone;  a distant cousin well known to the Al Qaeda branch of our family. It is as follows:

Dr WHO again set the most brilliant run of the year. I am so envious, I could just spit. We started off at a parking lot/softball field and headed straight into shiggy across the street. A gas line right of way led west to the Tiverton Middle school and a nice semicircular trail near the Tiverton water supply. We zigged and zagged across the now northerly gas line, confused and admiring of the masterful checks, until we found a long bushwhack through briars to the FIRST beer check, knee deep in Stafford Pond. What beer! And fine Nigerian Spiced Peanuts! The best!

Next we continued generally north and west past the power plant, and into a maze of flooded lumbering roads. We got plenty wet, I can tell you. And SESYB likes it wet! We crossed under Rt 24 in a wildlife tunnel to the second beer check, featuring Storm King Imperial Stout (9.5% alcohol, woo-wee!) and more spiced nuts. All we could say was WOW MOM!

Next we ran a brief but scenic trail up the powerlines to the Park and Ride, where the hare brought out even more beer. We circled, and gave the hare a well-deserved 69! Hashit went to Basket as usual, and we all adjourned to the Li’l Bear for pizza and beer. I bet no one will ever top this one, oh my cousins!

As you then most certainly can depreciate, our cousin the Oozing one has whereby given you complete confidence in our sincerities and obfuscations. We await the reception of your informations forthwith, and remind you indelicately of the fatuous nature of our transactions. It is indeed the sum of TWENTY-FIVE MILLIONS ($25,000,000,000,000) that is a steak here. Once again our best wishes to you from darkest Africa.

 On On

Dr Massif Oldongi WHO