How I learned to stop worrying and love the chicken

Arriving in Berlin from Kiev, I found that the hash wasn't running until Sunday. That gave me exactly no time to make it up to Copenhagen to make their hash and return their beloved Kylie, the hottest chick in Copenhagen.
You see, back in Atlanta, via Chatanooga and Birmingham, I was able to hash with the illustrious Hugh Heifer, who had a gift for me in the form of a small (maybe a couple beer cans in size) fuzzy chicken, the kind you would see in a Walgreens or Rite Aid that played a song when you pressed the button on its wing and then danced around in a silly fashion.
He had acquired this chicked, named Kylie, when someone (unbeknownst to him) had placed it in his luggage at Interhash Perth. All he knew was this kidnapped chick belonged in Denmark with the Copenhagen hash and damnit, it needed to get home!
After hearing about my ambitious plans to gallavant around the globe, he asked if I would take Kylie along. Being the somewhat (yeah right?) decent hume that I am, I said sure, why not? Tossed Kylie in my hash bag and continued on my merry way, expecting to drop the Chick off in a pass-thru within a month.
Little did I know that my U.S. travels would take almost two more months of hashing, camping and what-not. All the while, anytime my stuff shifted in the back of my car from turning too hard, or if I was careless in my packing, Kylie would be there to remind me of her presence by breaking out into glorious song.
Then came the airport. Not wanting to have an unpleasant stay in security I carefully removed Kylie's battery and packed her away in my bag, not knowing when, but only that I was now on a mission, not just a task.
Over the next month and a half, Kylie rode along, a silent passenger in my luggage. Coming out every now and then for a brief photo-op along the way. The astrological clock in Prague, the River Liffy in Dublin, with some Oktoberfest ladies in Berlin. I think there are 40 some pictures in my camera of this Chicken with various international landmarks. Far more than of myself (granted I've been the one holding the camera for almost every pic, one of the caveats of traveling alone).
Then the time came. I had a week's lapse between Kiev's Full Moon Hash and Munich for Oktoberfest. I had kind of figured that I would be returning Kylie after the Beerfest, but now was a chance to visit Denmark and return her, eating up a chunk of otherwise spare time.
I booked my ticket to Berlin, acting as a hub for travel to Copenhagen and then to Munich, then proceeded to e-mail and use Hashspace to announce Kylie's homecoming.
Crashspace was procured, a welcoming party was arranged and after three nights in Berlin, I had a ticket to Copenhagen and following an eight hour train ride, Kylie would be home!
I stepped off the train at Kobenhaven H station (there's some missing marks on those previous letters) and walked toward the stairs to see a man, Codpiece, in a Perth Interhash shirt. I shouted, "On-On!" and thrust Kylie in one of his hands while shaking the other. We walked to a nearby local pub where about five hashers were already gathered. Fire in the Ho, Red Carpet and others. Rounds were bought, beer was drunk and Kylie was restored to life as Codpiece replaced the missing battery removed over a month prior.
As we sat and drank local brews and stews, the local musician for the pub brought in his keyboard and plucked away as two old guys (one in drag) sang various classic Danish drinking songs such as... (like I know any Danish, so the hell if I knew what the songs were).
The Codpiece got us all up and we moved on to take a couple more pictures of Kylie in the middle of Copenhagen's red light district. One in front of a tattoo shop with a sign reading, "Yes, it hurts."
One in front of a giant dildo, and one in front of our next stop, "Spunk Bar."
After another couple of beers, I packed Kylie away for the official presentation at the Monday hash and we all went our separate ways, myself following Fire in the Ho to her place where she had a guest room for me.
Arriving at Monday's hash, the Kiev weather seemed to follow, it was damn cold and there was a misty drizzle in the air. The kind of rain where you wish the clouds would simply open up and deluge the city, to get the damn thing over with. Instead it was a consistent light drizzle. Enough that within the first 10 minutes of the hash we were all soaked.
Trail, laid by Her Holynose, was a brief city affair that took us through the twists and turns of the Copenhagen suburbs. FRB's were getting consistently fucked though as the hare continued the remarkable tradition I've run into on pre-lays in the EU where she walked with the walkers, sweeping, and then would mark and re-mark portions of trail as she went along.
After an hour or so of not seeing trail, or coming across falses that came in from a different direction than we were going, a couple of the FRB's and myself just aimed for the On-In which was, fortunately, at the start.
Over the next ten minutes or so, other hashers started to arrive. We pulled out the beer, I pulled out my vessel and Kylie, then we proceeded to jabber about whatever until the RA started circle.
I got pulled in for being a visitor, then I got pulled in again to officially return Kylie home. They started her song, placed her in the circle, then snapped photos until Baby Blow Job's dog jumped into circle, grabbed Kylie by the wing and took off running and shaking its head!
Kylie made it across the world, only to get attacked by a vicious dog the instant she arrived at her home hash...
Fortunately, Kylie was rescued shortly after and with no visible damage. The dog was put on probation and Baby Blow Job was given a down-down for her misbehaving mutt.
Her Holynose was brought in, apparantly this was her 25th hare and she had been reminding mis-management for damn near a month so she could get her 25th hare shirt.
She was given a down-down for being overly persistent, then another to present to her the shirt.
Then I got pulled in again, given a giant drinking horn brimming with beer and was presented with a shirt for bringing Kylie home. Not just any shirt though. This shirt is the one usually given to Copenhagen hashers who are leaving their beloved homeland for other shores.
In short, I was made an honorary Viking Wanker of the Copenhagen Hash! (my High School mascot was the Vikings, coincidence? Yes.)
I drank my beer from the viking horn-taking longer than I think most of them would-before tipping the now empty vessel over my head... who said head?
Circle concluded, not with hash hymn number one, but with CH3's own closing song. One to which I knew none of the words to, but enjoyed just the same.
On-On.