Fortnightly Writing Competition: Leprechaun Edition Winners!

[Chef!]

In honour of St. Patrick's day the theme for the next two weeks is "Leprechaun".  The only guideline is that the story must centre around a Leprechaun or Leprechauns or how a Leprechaun or Leprechauns have affected your main character(s). A Four leaf clover, a Pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, magic beer, lucky charms, these would not be out of place, but they are only suggestions.  What are Leprechauns? Where do they come from? What are their interests with us.. are their intentions good or evil?   

The competition starts right now on(March 17) and runs until 8pm on April 1st.  After which voting begins.  I will be away on vacation for much of the competition. Trophies will be made and rest assured that I will be back on the 1st to resume my duties and start the voting process.

This was a close one, but the people (and fates) have spoken.


Congratulations Kconan you win!

Baron, you were a close second.  Nicely done!

[WHAM]

Heck, I know nothing about leprechauns, save from what I learned by watching Family Guy. :/
Time to "Wiki" this shit up!

[kconan]

Jeff O'Aeron tossed the shillelagh on his tattered couch, unfastened his belt buckle, and removed his leprechaun costume.  The outfit had seen better days, and so had he.  Jeff was tired of working kiddie birthdays and the local theme park.  The only boom time for his profession was around St. Patrick's Day, but in return for the extra paychecks he had to deal with rowdy drunks at bars who would try to throw him around and basically humiliate him.  Roughly once a month Jeff will call on a house for a highly paid “private” show, which can be just something simple like dancing around singing Irish jigs while a couple gets it on.  Or it could be something that requires Jeff to break out his spiked shillelagh.

The next day…Jeff ate breakfast, chugged half a bottle of Jack Daniel's, and donned his leprechaun outfit.  Looking out his front window he noticed that the sky was intermittently dark and sunny with a slight drizzle of rain coming down, but none of this warranted an umbrella in his mind.  Jeff opened the door and headed to the main road.  As he walked to the bus stop he could hear stifled giggles and one passerby said to his group of his friends, “Hey, look a midget!”  The bus was crowded, and Jeff was forced to squeeze into a 2-person seat that already housed two normal sized people, both were attractive women in their early 20s.  Jeff looked at the girl closest to him and smiled; the response was a grimace.  The other girl sniffed and said, ”Hey Debra, this little person's mascot's outfit smells like old liquor and broken dreams.” Debra chuckled, Jeff sighed, and he moped off the bus at the next stop.

Jeff made his way to “Shamus O'Malley's Jewelry Emporium” for the morning gig.  Several minutes into his walk, he saw a luminous rainbow that appeared to end near his destination.   Jeff thought this was both beautiful and curious, but soon lost sight of it as the sky was blocked from view by the large shop awnings as he got closer to the city center.  He looked down at his old green shoes with aladdin style toes, and thought to himself that he would need to get another pair cobbled soon.

The main door to the jewelry store was guarded by one of the security goons who chuckled at Jeff, but surprisingly withheld comment.  ”Where's the boss?  I'm here for the sale… said Jeff.  The goon barked  ”Your early, anyway go inside!”  while opening the door to let the most famous working leprechaun in Shamrock, Texas into the most notorious pawn shop in all of Texas.

Frankie O' Malley was in the process of hanging up a sign that proclaimed, “Madman O' Malley's GOLD Giveaway!” at the top and “Actual prizes are gold plated” in fine print at the bottom.  Frankie turned to look at Jeff with a confused look and said, “Why do you walk around in the outfit?  You should wear normal clothes until you get to your gig.”  Jeff replied, “I'm out, laundry day.”  Frankie shook his head while hammering the sign into the wall and joked, “Well luck-o-the-Irish for you, I heard the Baby Gap nearby is having a sale.”  Jeff sighed in his usual way, twirled his shillelagh around from hand to hand, and asked, ”You want me stationed at the door trying to bring customers in or inside playing to a crowd?”  Frankie, while shining the newly affixed sign, replied, “I don't care little man, do whatever you think will make these suckers lay down some moolah.  The kids liked that four leaf clover parlor trick you did last time, so be sure to incorporate that into your schtick.”  Jeff thought to himself that he would like to incorporate his shillelagh into Frankie's rectum.

And then the goon stationed at the front of the store screamed bloody murder.  Both Jeff and Frankie turned towards the door as the security guard staggered in, and collapsed.  Frankie checked on his employee while Jeff carefully walked over to the window in the hopes of at least catching a glimpse of the attacker, and he noticed a dense fog outside that allowed zero visibility.  Frankie examined the now dead security guard and removed a sharp green object from the victim's face.  Jeff, while keeping his eye on the front door, crept over to Frankie to get a look for himself.  The object appeared to be a metallic four-leaf clover with sharpened leaves.  Frankie and Jeff exchanged nervous glances and quietly mouthed in unison, “a four leaf clover throwing star…” and then scrambled to hide behind the cashier counter just as unintelligible squeaky voices drifted in from the front door.  In his haste, Jeff noticed that he had lost his shillelagh.  He could use it as a club if needed, and debated going back for it when Frankie elbowed him.

Frankie carefully removed an old rusty Colt .45 handgun and an X26P Taser stun gun from a drawer underneath the register  He checked the action on the handgun as quietly as possible, and gave the stun gun to Jeff.  Frankie asked Jeff in a nervous whisper, “What do you hear?” Jeff replied, ”It sounds like they are speaking Gaelic.”   Shuffling footsteps could be heard entering the store.

Butch Jefferson, Frankie's store clerk, strolled out of the stockroom blissfully unaware of recent events due to the fact that he was listening to music loudly through large headphones.  Frankie looked at Jeff and said, ”Butch is out there now…Jeff, you should warn him.  Jeff shook his head and mouthed, “Your guy, you handle it.” while pointing a stubby finger at Frankie.  They both heard Butch loudly proclaim, “Hey, we only ordered one of youse midgetfolk…” before his sentence was cut off by strangulation noises.  Frankie peered over the counter in attempts to see what was going on, and Jeff could see him recoil in horror.

Frankie watched as Butch Jefferson, recent winner of employee of the month at Shamus O'Malley's Jewelry Emporium, was force fed a shillelagh by what looked like a larger, mutant version of Jeff in his costume.  The mutated leprechaun cackled and queried, “Where's me gold?” as it shoved the shillelagh further into Butch.  Frankie slid back down to hide in cover, only to be pulled up and over the counter by a pair of meaty hands.  As this happened, Jeff army crawled over to a small glass display case that housed various gold ornaments.

The mutated leprechaun now held Frankie in a bear hug, though he managed to wiggle the handgun towards the creature despite its iron grip.  He pulled the trigger and when nothing happened, the evil leprechaun cackled gleefully and said, “Misfire tee hee hee.  Can't shoot me.”  Jeff watched while crouched behind the display, and through the leprechauns grin he could see what appeared to be sharp teeth.  Jeff really didn't care for Frankie, so he watched with morbid curiosity moreso than real concern - though unaware that another leprechaun was sneaking up behind him.

Through gasps Frankie begged, “Let…me…go…and…give you…Gold.” and the leprechaun dropped him like a sack of potatoes, just as Jeff was frog marched from his hiding place by the other leprechaun.  Jeff was released, and both leprechauns tilted their misshapen heads and stared at him.  The one who had been crushing Frankie said in an awed tone, “Luprachan abhaic dia.” Frankie glanced over at Butch, who was twitching but alive, and at the body of his security guard.  And then he looked up at the murderous leprechauns that were now transfixed by Jeff, who began aiming his stun gun back and forth from one leprechaun to the other.  More leprechauns filed in from the outside, which stopped Frankie in his tracks as he had started crawling towards the exit.  It was a sea of green, and evil grinning faces.

Jeff said, ”There is enough gold for all of you in this store. “ All of the leprechauns went to one knee.  The larger one, who had been crushing Frankie, looked at Jeff and said, ”We have been waiting for you.  Lead us master.  Lead us to gold and giggles!”  Jeff nodded, and thought to himself that it has been a while since someone treated him with respect â€" much less reverence.  He thought about the cruel World and how people have treated him throughout his life…They look down on Jeff for his size, limited intelligence, and for being relatively poor.  He wondered if these things considered him a leprechaun general, or perhaps, a god?

Frankie said, ”Stop daydreaming short stack, they seem to think you are the boss.  So order them to drop dead, or at least march them out of here back to wherever they came from.”  Jeff queried, “Do you recall that little person joke you made the last time I was here?” Frankie replied, ”Which one?”  Jeff answered curtly, ”The one about the midget psychic who escaped from jail?” Frankie said, ”The small medium at large, yea I remember…Look I was just goofing.”  and he trailed off mumbling while starting to fumble with his now unreliable hand gun.  Jeff surveyed the room of kneeling leprechauns, pointed at Frankie, and commanded, “Take gold, and restrain him” They set about looting the store of gold, and one of the leprechaun minions grabbed Frankie in a full nelson.  Jeff walked over to Frankie, who was trembling, and shot him point blank in the groin with the stun gun.  The leprechaun who was restraining him giggled and continued to hold Frankie as he violently shook and wailed in pain.  Jeff walked towards the front door, and picked up his Shillelagh.  He could see more of his minions coming in from the fog to gather as if he had summoned them, and a grin started to form on his face.  The newly crowned leprechaun king lifted his arms in the air, and declared, ”The world is ours!"

[Chef!]

Solid story Kconan, the bar has been set!

[Baron]

I just wanted to let Chef know that I am ...er, cooking up a little something as we speak.  Who else is on this? 

[Ponch]

I have half an idea. It's not much of a story, really. More of a scene. But we'll see if I can work it into something forum-worthy.

[Baron]

Well, I think I've brought it as far as I can.  The lingo is more Newfie than Irish, but it was still fun stringing it together.

Emerald Ails

   Rosco sat down across the table from the sack of potatoes.  Davey stood three metres behind the sack and to the left, guarding the locked door.  There were no windows in the cinder-blocked basement, and the only light came from a single bulb dangling from some unfinished wiring.  There was a heating vent on the wall and a drain on the floor, but they had both been sealed with a judicious amount of duct tape.  The room was secured.
   Rosco examined the contents of the table once more.  They were laid out neatly in a line, easily visible from both sides of the table: a bottle of whiskey (Irish, of course), packet of cigarettes, lighter, two cups of water, roll of duct tape, pair of scissors, muffin, bottle of laxative, butter boat, pliers, saw, utility knife, frayed extension cord, leather belt, bowl of candy, dog collar, rubber gardening gloves, measuring stick, taser (tm).  Everything seemed to be in order.
   Rosco nodded at Davey.  Davey carried a tranquilizer dart gun, which he now trained on the sack of potatoes.  Rosco took the taser from the table and did likewise.  Davey crept up to the sack of potatoes from behind and pulled the sack away, revealing a tiny bearded fellow duct taped to a baby's high-chair, eyes closed and head slumped to the side.  Davey quickly retreated to his position by the door, dart gun still at the ready.
   The little fellow didn't even twitch.  Beneath the rolls of duct tape bonds his little green suit was dirt-stained and wrinkled from a night spent in the snare.  Bits of straw and dried out leaves clung to his red beard, and a dribble of drool was freely flowing from his lips.  That was a good sign: as best as Rosco knew, dead things didn't drool.  While keeping the taser trained his target, he grasped the measuring stick with his other hand and gave the leprechaun a couple pokes.  Nothing.
   Davey motioned with the dart gun and Rosco picked up a glass of water and tossed it at the tiny man's face.  Still no reaction.  Rosco frowned, then broke open the big guns.  He twisted the cap off the bottle of Irish whiskey, and noticed the leprechaun's nose twitch.  He poured two fingers into the empty water cup, and noticed a furtive tongue dart from one side of the leprechaun's mouth to the other.  He tossed the whiskey at the leprechaun's face and the little man sprang to life, spitting and spluttering in shock.
   â€œWhaffa.... gah lard b'y.....” the little man cursed nonsensically.  His gleaming eyes were open now, roving around the room mischievously, taking it all in: the walls, the table, the instruments of torture and the two men.  He twisted helplessly in his bonds.  “Whyfer ye ballyraggin' so fine screech!?!” he demanded defiantly, spitting again.
   â€œ...What?” Rosco asked, shaking his head.  “Nevermind.  As you can see, we're not here to mess around, Mr....”
   â€œBarmping ferk, ye be b'y, lard 'n' tunder!”
   Rosco stared blankly at the leprechaun for a long moment, trying to process what he'd just heard.  “Mr. Ferk,” he continued, “Me and my associate,” he waved at Davey, “are very much interested in the whereabouts of your pot of gold.”
   The leprechaun squirmed in his seat to look over his shoulder at Davey.  “Whaddaya at, b'y?!?  'Tis duff, gommin' fer a b'y's poke!  I's nare gocked at a lonesome flanker.  Nare one aboot, ye biniki starn!”
   Rosco lifted up the muffin from the table and slathered a big chunk of butter over the top of it.  He licked his lips, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Davey grin.  “Me and Davey,” he started again, “We want to be friends with you.  We want to be your pals.  Here,” he offered.  “Have a bite.”  He reached across the table and stuck the buttery end of the muffin into the leprechaun's gaping mouth.  The leprechaun spluttered, crumbs flying out of his mouth and butter smeared all over his cheeks.
   â€œBlarmey!” the little man spat.
   Rosco sighed and lifted up the pair of pliers from the table, turning them slowly in his hand, letting the leprechaun get a good look at the tool.  The little man stared back at him, mouth working wordlessly.  “What do you think?” Rosco asked Davey.  “Do you think he's got any gold teeth?”
   A long silence hung in the room.
   â€œWell dere, b'y.  Dinna be muckin' a rise out o' me....” the leprechaun squirmed.
   Rosco darted forward, pinching the pliers on the leprechaun's front tooth.  The little man babbled in tongues around the steely pliers, helplessly squirming against his bonds.  He turned himself a bright red with the effort, melting the butter off his cheeks and down his neck and setting the whiskey and water steaming off of his forehead.  Rosco shouted at him: “WHERE'S THE GOLD!  WHERE IS IT!”  He let the leprechaun squirm a little longer before releasing his grip.
   The leprechaun licked at his front tooth.  “Me toot, ye right crooket starn hole!”
   Rosco gave him a minute to calm down before picking up the frayed extension cord and the utility knife.  The leprechaun stilled himself again, glancing from the taser, now on the table, back up to the extension cord and knife.  Rosco cut the end of the cord off and pulled the internal wires apart as wide as his arms would allow.  Then he plugged in the other side.  “We want,” he said very calmly, “To know ...where ...the ...gold ...is.”  He touched the two ends of the wire together and a fantastic spark jumped at the terrified little man.  The light overhead flickered menacingly as Rosco advanced.
   â€œErrrrrrrrr.....” the little man squeaked, eyes darting between the light and the wires.  “A'ight, a'ight, me b'y!  Hald yer jib!  Less draw a cov'ent, ye 'n' me.”
   Rosco paused.  “...What?” he asked, trying to keep the frustration from his voice.
   â€œA cov'ent, me b'y!  A bahgain!”
   â€œA bargain?” Rosco asked.
   â€œAye!  Ye gimme but a one of dose shinin' sweedies, fer me achin' toot, see b'y?  'N' den I's be yammerin' alls where ye to.”
   Rosco stepped back to the table.  “Let me get this straight.  I give you a candy,” he picked on up between his fingers.  “And you'll tell me where the gold is.”
   â€œAye!  At th' once!”
   Rosco looked at Davey, who shrugged and nodded.  “Alright,” he said.  “But if you don't tell us, I get to light you up like a Christmas tree.”
   â€œNare afeared be ye!” the leprechaun vowed.
   Rosco advanced slowly and the leprechaun opened his mouth expectantly.  Davey adjusted his dart gun in readiness, just in case.  Rosco popped the hard candy into the leprechaun's mouth, then quickly stepped back.
    A look of pure delight came over the leprechaun's face, eyes closed and head shaking side to side.  “Ah, 'tis poor heav'n, me b'y!  Sweet like a foxy head, go awn wich ya!”  He opened his sparkling, mischievous eyes and grinned.
   Rosco instinctively reached for the taser.  “Now where's the gold?” he asked, just a bit of desperation creeping into his voice.  “Don't give us any trouble!  Where's it at?!?”
   The leprechaun rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.  “I tells ye b'y, me nerves is right rubbed raw at yer liddle tay party here.”  He puckered his mouth like a whistle and then spat the hard candy up, shattering the lightbulb overhead, casting the windowless room into complete darkness.  Rosco shot his taser blindly, and heard the leprechaun's chair tip over.
   â€œWHERE IS HE?” Davey shouted.  There was another crash and Rosco felt a sharp stab in his stomach.  He reached down and felt the end of the tranquilizer dart sticking out of his abdomen.  A couple seconds later there were sparks of electricity accompanied by Davey's screams.  By then Rosco was already on his knees, crawling forward, his whole body beginning to tingle.  The room echoed with a sawing sound as he reached out and felt the high chair, with the little green suit still duct-taped to it, empty but for the slimy film of butter inside of it.  He collapsed onto his side, conscious only long enough to see the leprechaun-shaped hole cut through the door to let in the light, and a little pasty-white bummed figure clicking his heels in the air beyond.
 

[Baron]

I call heads.

[Chef!]

I'm back from a great trip abroad.. Thanks for all the lovely stories we're gonna have a a heck of a job picking a winner between these two leviathans.. lets hope someone else enters the fray there's only three hours left.

[Chef!]

Thats it the last grain of sand has fallen and its all down to the gruesome two-some. I'd like to thank our two contestants for their fine entries. Good work men! Now its time to start the voting process. Who's going to win Kconan or Baron? We'll find out soon enough! Voting starts now and ends Friday the fifth at five PM. 

[Baron]

Well I vote for kconan, not just because it's a classy thing to do and not just because his avatar makes him out to be some sort of sexy sexy beast.  I think the build up really makes his story work: Jeff's downtrodden existence, being kicked up the arse by life again and again, and then suddenly a flash of opportunity to turn that world on its head.  I'm a little curious -obviously it wouldn't be apparent to Jeff in the heat of the moment, so I see why you wouldn't include it -but why do the leprechauns make Jeff into their king on the spur of the moment?  Was it the liquor smell of the costume -only a king could afford to waste such a variety of booze?  Just wondering....

[kconan]

...but why do the leprechauns make Jeff into their king on the spur of the moment?  Was it the liquor smell of the costume -only a king could afford to waste such a variety of booze?  Just wondering....

Once the leprechauns got a good long look at Jeff (after he is frog marched over to the others), they recognized him as king.  I was thinking that they had never seen a midget human before, and also since he is dressed as one of them, this leads the real leprechauns to believe that Jeff is the "chosen one" spoken of in the Leprechaun Bible that I just invented as I write this. 

I vote for Baron.  Movie 43, which is hit and miss, has a fun "kidnap the leprechaun for his gold" scene:  http://www.flix66.com/2012/10/26/gerard-butler-is-a-creepy-leprechaun-in-new-photo-from-movie-43/

[Ponch]

Damn! How am I supposed to choose between two great stories (and two sexy avatars). Clearly, my only choice is to flip a coin and let chance decide.

...

I have now flipped my JFK fifty cent piece which I keep just for such occasions. First one to call it wins my vote.

[kconan]

I call heads

[Ponch]

I call heads

Heads it was! 


I left if laying on top of my computer desk as proof, but I'm at work now so you'll have to accept this wiki image instead.

Sorry, Baron. This vote could have been yours, but kconan guessed right first.

My vote goes to kconan. 

[Baron]

I call heads.

Hey, what gives?!?

[Ponch]

I call heads.

Hey, what gives?!?

Holy cow! Are you from the future?!?

[Baron]

Holy cow! Are you from the future?!?

Nah, just prescient.  I knew you'd toss the coin, and I knew which way it would land, long before you yourself even conceived of the notion.  I also know how this competition will turn out, by the way.    

[kconan]

Cool, I'll start a new competition in a day or two.  I've got a fun idea, and the big prize will come with a game on Steam (Was given an extra copy when I preordered another game).