Mike and Alphonse Meet A Leprechaun. (standard:humor, 2563 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jun 30 2020	Views/Reads: 1027/756	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The two barely-functional idiots grab a hiding leprechaun. They use his powers in a robbery.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


"Man, gold pot? Must be worth something. Just a minute," Alphonse went
back and searched the crate, finding only wine bottles, two empty and 
two full. "Man, ain't no gold here. No smoke neither." 

"You don't understand, Alphonse, my man. He keeps it at the end of a
rainbow." 

"Man, ain't no frickin' rainbows around her neither." 

"Sure there is, man. Just too dark to see 'um. We gotta wait until
morning." 

"Ain't got nothin', nothin' at all," the leprechaun told them. "Me'self
be only a poor, poor, shoemaker, nary a bite of the yellow stuff," he 
assured them. "Give ye some brand new shoes though, if ye let me go?" 
It had started to rain, which caused the leprechaun to struggle harder. 


"Man, bring him here. I saw junk wire someplace, was even sitting on
it," Alphonse suggested. They soon had the leprechaun tied by 
electric-wire to Mike's ankle. The three sat, waiting for morning while 
drinking the little man's wine. Being good hosts, they did share it 
with him. They sat close together beneath the overhang of a fire-escape 
with wooden flooring. 

"Look, ye children, yer' a bein' right," the little person admitted
after a few swigs of wine, "me'self bein' a leprechaun. Name's Shamus 
it be. Me'self would like ta make a deal." 

That caused them to sit up with interest. 

"I knew it, man. I knew it," Mike yelped, voice full of wonder. "A real
leprechaun named Shamus, just like papa said. We's rich, we is." 

"What kinda deal?" more pragmatic Alphonse asked. 

"Us little people ain't all rich ye know? That's bein' a fable. Me dear
old dad lost the shoe shop and all his money in the stock market, ye 
know? Me'self still be a workin' off the debt." Shamus sighed loudly. 
"Day an night I be a'workin', makin' the finest shoes ta sell at a 
pittance, just ta' be'a makin' ends meet." He shook his little green 
head. "One night'a year I be a celebratin'. Tonight it be. An ta me 
chagrin, ye fine people be a catchin' me." He gave them a sad look, 
stretching out his bound leg, "I be a tellin' ye what we do. Me'self 
kin be a getting ye some gold, with yer' help, that be. Are ye game?" 
He whispered the last, looking around slyly. 

"Man, like how we gonna do that?" Alphonse bit, a little in doubt. Maybe
the rainbow idea was better, certainly simpler? he thought. 

"What we do, sirs, is first be aget'tin some firearms. An easy 'nough
task. Me'self knows where ta acquire mountains a the yellow stuff. Tis' 
no use ta me'self. Ye can keep it all." 

"Like yeah, man?" Mike liked the idea. He did think it over for a few
seconds, not being overly stupid. "How we gonna do it, uh, man?" 

The little man beamed and told them. 

*** 

"Cops, man. I don't know if I like this part," Mike mumbled. He and
Shamus had found two police officers walking out of a donut shop. Mike 
was nervous, looking over at his friend, standing across the street 
waiting and watching, and in no danger whatsoever. 

"Ye just be'a walkin' past the bobby, Mike me friend. I'll be a'doin'
the rest," Shamus instructed. They walked right between the two 
donut-munching police officers, who studied the sight of a known 
criminal consorting with a little man dressed in green. 

Shamus however, turned back to look at them, giving both friendly grins,
corncob pipe in his mouth, a wisp of sweet-smelling tobacco smoke in 
the air. 

Now, leprechauns have been known to charm the teeth out of vicious
dragons. The police were no match. They went back to their patrol car 
and left. 

"Here ye be, Mike me friend." Shamus handed over two police revolvers,
along with bulging wallets. The police were paid well in that town. 

"You did it, man. You did it," Mike exclaimed out loud, taking the
booty. He handed a revolver to Alphonse, cleverly keeping both wallets. 
Whoever said there was honor among thieves? 

The three kept walking across town, minds filled with glee. 

They even stopped for breakfast at a convenient McDougals, a rare event
for them. On the few occasions when they had money, breakfast was 
normally liquid. Mike paid, of course, Alphonse wondering where he had 
hidden the money. After all, Alphonse had searched his buddy while Mike 
nodded off the night before. 

*** 

"Ye just do as I told ye, gentlemen. Walk ye right in an tell the
rascals 'Hands up, we be a takin' yer' gold,'" Shamus coached them. 
"Me'self will be a'smilin' them to peace." 

Holding their guns awkwardly and not at all sure of themselves, the two
followed instructions. They nervously walked into an art gallery which 
was displaying a "Neolithic Golden Coin" display. Alphonse had wanted 
to hit a gas station or something, but Shamus insisted. 

"I only be astealin' gold ye see, friends. So as ta use me meager
powers, ye see?" He told them, in confidence, that his powers didn't 
work for mere paper. It made perfect sense to his accomplices. 

"Hands up, we be a takin' . . . I mean, this is a stickup. Up with your
hands," Alphonse yelled out in a shaky voice, pointing a police 
revolver at a young woman and an old man inside. 

They took one look at the two dirty madmen and raised their hands.
Shamus, true to his word, clouded their minds. Of course, he saw no 
reason for the victims to see himself, personally. 

Mike gathered up the gold coins -- only a couple of handfuls but still
very valuable. He passed them to Shamus as he collected them. Shamus 
was to hold the loot. It was a bad mistake, like asking a monkey to 
hold your banana. 

The three men ran, and ran. They rushed out the door, down the block,
and around several corners. Breathing hard, they stopped, panting 
loudly. 

"Ho -- How much we get, man?" Mike asked Shamus. Wha -- where the hell
was Shamus? Shamus was nowhere. The little guy was gone. Mike moved his 
leg, pulling on the wire. 

"Man, like cut that out." Alphonse stumbled. Shamus was long gone, out
of sight in the distance and leaving the two tied together, leg to leg. 
It was a simple matter for a clever knot-tying leprechaun. It didn't 
take long for police to find them, standing together, a stupid look on 
their faces and with stolen guns in hand. 

Meanwhile, Shamus, grinning widely, proceeded to the end of the rainbow.
Finding his pot of gold, he whistled an Irish ditty while pouring new 
coins into the pot. 

"It be'in a good night's entertainment. Time ta be a'goin' home ta
work." He lit his pipe. With that, rainbow, gold, and Shamus faded out 
of sight. 

=============================== 

Mike and Alphonse were working on a stolen television set, trying to
make it work.  With combined IQs of just over sixty, they were having a 
hard time of it. 

"Maybe we should'a stole it from a store, stead'a a junkyard?" Mike
asked his buddy. "Might'a been easier ta make it work?" 

"Those stores have cameras," Alphonse said.  "I hear the new ones send
those ray things out to capture us. I saw it in a movie." 

"Hey!  We fergot ta plug it in." 

After plugging the set into a wall socket, the screen lit up. No
picture, but it did light up their basement room. 

"S'okay," Mike said, "bet'tern nothin'."  Their lone light bulb had
given out a week before and neither one had thought to steal a new one 
to replace it. 

Since the two had repeatedly been caught entering and leaving by the
window of their prior room, the landlord had moved them to the furnace 
room in the basement.  With no windows there, the deadbeats were forced 
to pay their rent in order to get in. 

"Why, hello me fine comrades," came a voice from behind the furnace. 

Alphonse looked over to see that dratted leprechaun, Shamus, standing in
the shadows of the flickering tv screen, watching them and smiling.  On 
a previous occasion, he'd lured them into stealing gold coins then 
absconding with the loot, leaving Mike and Alphonse for the police. 

Although slightly pissed, the two did have fond memories of their
six-month sentences in the local hoosegow.  The bunks had been soft and 
meals better than outside.  It had been so nice, in fact, that they 
planned on wintering there in the future. 

"What you want, you lying bastard?" Alphonse replied. 

"Now, don't you be that way, me friends."  Shamus removed a green hat
and shook his head. "I be'a calling on you, me friends, for help.  
Blimey, but meself be in'a bind, and have a need for your unique 
services, laddies." 

"Sure ya is, and we don' wan' anythin' ta do with you," Mike told him,
spitting past the little man, causing Shamus to jump aside. 

"Meself be a'helping me friends," Shamus dodged blows as he ran behind
the broken television. 

They heard mutterings and thumps as Shamus worked on the set, but soon
the television gave a sort of loud "Burp" and, flickering, settled down 
to an episode of the "Simpsons." 

Placated, and unable to do two things at once, such as watch television
and retain anger, the two chose television. 

"What meself be a'needin', fine friends, be a strong back ta help meself
in returnin' some'a me riches,"  Shamus told them after the show, when 
he again had their undivided attention. "Only so much as was'a stolen 
from me pot at the end'a the rainbow.  Some dastardly thief, he has 
taken it." 

"What we be'a – I mean what we get for helping you," Alphonse asked,
picking his nose. 

"Yeah.  Wat's in'it fer us," Mike interjected, scratching his thigh
because it was closer than an itching butt. 

"You can'na be keepin' all the rest.  A roomful of the bright stuff. 
All I be'a needin' is a tiny amount to replace me losses.  I'm not 
bein' a thief." 

Visions of rooms filled with gold convince the skeptical thieves to help
the little guy.  With a wave of the hand, the three of them actually 
found themselves in a room filled with gold bars, floor to ceiling, in 
neat rows.  Concrete walls enclosed the space, with a heavily barred 
door at one side. 

Looking around in wonder, Mike bent down to try to bite a gold bar lying
on top of a pile. 

"Oh, man," he exclaimed, "it does tastes like real gold." As though he
knew what real gold tasted like. 

"Man.  Oh, man.  Looks like'a real thing," from Alphonse, trying to lift
one.  Although heavy, he managed to pick it up, cradling it in his 
arms. 

"See.  Meself not bein' a liar?"  Shamus told them while tugging on his
beard. "I be'a little too small to be a pickin' up the bright stuff." 

Mike and his buddy picked up a bar at a time, each time finding
themselves teleported to a cave, hidden somewhere in the world.  After 
a half-dozen such trips, the happy leprechaun supervising, they ended 
up back in the room. 

"Well I be a'thankin you, me friends. Coun'a done it meself.  All the
rest be yours, help yurself."  Smiling, Shamus blinked away. 

With a loud "Whoopppieee," the two tired buddies each picked up another
bar, standing there like fools. 

"Hey.  How we get outa here?" Alphonse asked, looking around at concrete
walls. 

It was no problem.  A few hours later, a door opened on the other side
of the barred one.  Officials at Fort Knox soon had them in custody. 

"Well, it is November," Alphonse observed later, both of them in a jail
cell, "and time to settle in for the winter." 

The End.


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