Maia in Christmas Hashing Frenzy!

by our special correspondent, A. Nonny-Mouse.

Maia residents reported strange occurances last Sunday throughout the town and its rural margins. Thirty-two sweaty individuals, many dressed in lurid, seasonal costumes were seen charging round the streets and heading into any remnant of countryside that could be found. In particular, it was noted that rival gangs of pirates were roaming around, led by rival Peter Pans, one of whom was spotted clutching a horde of coloured baubles, clearly booty plundered on her nefarious journey.
Terrified locals complained of the group's blood-curdling cries of 'OOOONN, OOOONN!!', the gaudy fright-sight in a nightdress of one known ominously as the 'Bunbasher', a wild-looking, red-headed, mother-christmas figure who was reported to 'love sausage', and a babe from Brunei wearing trousers that no innocent person should ever have to witness, particularly at this time of goodwill.
We caught up with these interlocuters at their portal, where demonic 'down-down' rituals are enacted, fuelled by alcohol. We learnt that they had possessed a local house, owned by a Mark and Anna Duffy, for yet more of this obscene mulled-wine and seasonal nibble abuse. The unfortunate victims were later lured to the group's place of 'bash' at which no fewer than thirty-nine people viciously crammed into a restaurant for reckless abandon, and Picanha, clear and disturbing evidence of the cult's growing popularity.
After feasting, certain reprobates were singled out, recognised for standing out even amongst such a crowd: a 'Rhythm Stick' was considered to have come up with the best disguise, or 'costume' as it was euphamistically named; a member of the youth wing, a certain 'Banana Split' was given a prize for collecting the greatest amount of glittering booty along the way, followed by a shady figure known simply as ... Dave; then a certain 'Spanker' was rewarded for the top moment of this invidious collection's year - ''chasing after the gypsies in Tui". This individual, dazed by her success, or perhaps a gallon of vinho verde, was heard to splutter, "it's not like it sounds", leaving us only able to speculate how evil the reality must have been. To finish it off, a godfather-like figure, whom they called, the 'Tim', asked a series of questions to test the level of his minions' depravity, or general knowledge.
Everyone left in fine fettle, one the secretive, 'Dutch Cap' to spread this filth in the untainted environs of the Netherlands. One can only hope that such scenes are never again seen, in 2009. I believe their intention is to reconvene for more, this time, cunningly, without costumes on January the 3rd, where they plan to 'shake off the Christmas torpor'.