Tales from Leprechaunia 70
The Sacred Drop
The hansom cab with five aboard crested the steep hill that rolled down to the inviting arms of the The Dancing Leprechaun pub. The tavern was the social hub of Broken Harp, a large but mostly forgotten and sleepy town in County Cork. The county was not merely Catholic but the staunchest adherent! Here the last heretic follower of the Leprechaun Protestant Church - the transplanted and despised English Garden Gnome Protestant Church by another name - had long ago been tarred and feathered and run out of the county. If any of the counties could be said to be on its knees in the Holy Leprechaunia Church, it was County Cork - on Sundays, before the pubs opened.
Thereafter the rams of the flocks were mostly transformed into legless patrons ... soon enough, comfortably in the horizontal position under the pub tables. Yet thanks to the Vegemite-empowered black beer, Leprechaunia O'Guinness, the legless customers in the horizontal position could nevertheless spring vertical where it mattered to satisfy the most discerning and demanding of lady wives. Little wonder that no one questioned Father Paddy O'Leprechaun when he declared Leprechaunia O'Guinness to be blessed by God; and thus it was widely regarded as the truly sacred drop.
The fame of the black beer had recently infiltrated all the way across Leprechaunia - from Broken Harp to far distant Bottled, the capital of Screwcap County and the metropolis ruled by the Leprechaun Mafia. Hearing about the fabled beer was like receiving a message indirectly from Heaven, revealing that the miracle the lovely Isabella O'Mafiosa had prayed for was now answered. For this ravishing lady wife suffered from the dreaded ravishment deprivation syndrome due to her husband, Big Luigi - the Godfather of the Leprechaun Mafia - being little where it really mattered. And Isabella had bravely set out to discover whether the black beer blessed by God could achieve what Big Luigi's proxy membership of Brewer's Droop Anonymous could not attain.
Now at long last the hansom cab had rolled into Broken Harp, the blessed home of the Leprechaunia O'Guinness brewery. And at the bottom of this last hill Isabella and her companions might soon be tasting the fabulous black enlightenment in a glass, served within the convivial The Dancing Leprechaun pub. But just before the very bottom of the steep slope, Sergeant O'Leprechaun - an unhappily married man - lay in ambush with a pin-hole speed camera. The sergeant of police let out a triumphant whoop and leapt out from behind a thick bush and pulled over the hansom cab. He grinned, having just snared another contribution to the the Leprechaun Law Officers Pension Fund ... a fund having only him and His Worship, Magistrate Patrick McDuff, as its members.
This exclusive membership was strongly resented by Probationary Constable Serendipity O'Cork who had the duty of depositing all fines into the Pension Fund at the Royal Leprechaun Bank. Consequently, when Serendipity was in charge of the speed camera - always only in the foulest of weather when the sergeant of police somehow always had other more pressing duties near the fire in the police station - the Probationary Constable wrote very few tickets. Instead, heavy discounts for cash payments on the spot were offered to speeders. Such voluntary donations were deposited in the Probationary Constables Retirement Fund - a big glass jar buried in Serendipity's back garden.
But this day Sergeant O'Leprechaun did not garner another contribution to the Pension Fund .For the ravishing Isabella O'Mafiosa battered her eyelashes and simpered at the stalwart of the law when she asked if he'd like her to pose for the camera. Then Jezebel O'Legless-O'Corkless, the conqueror of many a passing troopship, accidentally made a flashy bare breast of things and in a smoky voice declared she was innocent. Just then Sister Rose looked up from her crystal ball and announced in alarm that she saw an angry Mrs O'Leprechaun - with truncheon in hand - was about to come marching around the corner to discover her husband with strumpets of no fixed address. At which the petrified sergeant of police fled through the bushes and back to the safety of the police station. Which was just as well for him because on the driver's seat Giovanni MacO'roni - a born-again hit man - was reaching for the .45 calibre spaghetti coiled in his shoulder holster.
Those aboard the hansom cab were also to be disappointed. But not by Leprechaunia O'Guinness! After tasting a glass or three of the sacred drop, all were curious to check out the salacious rumour of a Sister Minty pole dancing in the choir loft of some cat house supposedly called the Wholly Order of Leprechauns. But as they rose from the pub table, Mother Superior Molly introduced herself to the strangers; and another round of drinks were called for. Mother Molly sat aghast as Isabella mentioned the rumour - aghast that her secret fantasy about pole dancing had somehow leaked out. She hotly denied that the convent of Holy Order of Leprechauns was anything but that. And she insisted that Sister Minty had left the convent one dark night to swim out to a passing U-boat. And she hadn't heard of her again.
At which point Shamus O'Leprechaun, legless under the next table, began patriotically playing his lament Leprechaunia the Brave, a concert hall solo for distraught bagpipes. But he immediately fell silent when Young Nelly, the niece three times removed from Shamus - though he hotly denied all of the filthy allegations! - began playing The Leprechaun Stood on the Burning Deck on her weeping violin. And soon there was not a dry eye in the pub. Moved beyond endurance, Mother Superior Molly said a heartfelt prayer for Sister Minty and all other fallen sisters who answered the call of the wild and went down to the sea in ships, be they passing U-boats or troopships. And Jezebel fervently added passing aircraft carriers as well.
So great was the emotion that Taffy Jones, the publican, announced drinks on the house! Taffy then launched into the opening number of his Welsh opera for German beer halls, the stupendous, How Brown and Thirsty was My Valley - to be sung by goose stepping, legless baritones. It was an opera powered by Leprechaunia O'Guinness and thus powerful enough to sink a whole wolf pack of goblin U-boats!
See also:
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 1
05 Widow Weeds
09 On the Wagon
Leprechaunia the Brave - Lyrics
Leprechaunia the Brave - Lyrics (re-posted for St Patrick's Day 2009.)
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 2
17 A Werewolf-Vampire by Any Other Name
20 Serendipity
The Leprechaun Stood on the Burning Deck - Lyrics
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 3
22 The Three Wise Homeless Leprechauns
23 The Three Wise Mummy Leprechauns
24 The Three Wise Nun Leprechauns
25 The Three Wise Hari Krishna Leprechauns
26 The Three Wise Buddhist Leprechauns
27 The Three Wise Pilgrim Leprechauns
28 The Three Wise Unemployed Leprechauns
29 The Three Wise Academic Leprechauns
30 The Three Wise Associate Professor Leprechauns
Leprechaunia the Olde - lyrics
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 4
32 First Casualties of the Second Vegemite War
33 The Battle at The Slumped Leprechaun
35 The Victorious Vegemite War
36 The First Goodwill Expedition
39 The Last Post for the Fallen
40 Blessings
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 5
43 Sister Minty
45 Fellow Travelers on the Road
48 Plotters and the Sergeant of Police
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 6
51 The Royal World Mud Wrestling Championship
54 Captain Pegleg Sook & Spotted Dick
56 The O'Mohican-Leprechaunia Nation
57 The United States of Leprechauna: a Potted History
Tales from Leprechaunia - series 7
65 The Holy Association of Hit Men
69 Hitch-hikers
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Comments: 105
This sentence, alone, sums up the genius of your storytelling!
So many naughty girls and boys abound in your tale......
Thank you very much for the huge compliment. I bow to you.
Featured in the Triple Name Club.
Thank you very much for the honour of featuring this tale.
http://www.gather.com/viewArticle.action?articleId=281474977758834
mute music
Riotous fun well told.
The pole dancing is but Mother Superior Molly's fantasy - alas, a secret no more.
Wishing you dancing the night away with a Polish gentleman, Jan.
Thank you for posting to The Surreal Circus.
Isabella could perhaps get a franchise and start her own beer making plant back at home. Or, if that's not possible, perhaps have the distributorship for her region and in that way have all that she needs all of the time. I would opt for any and all methods of getting this Heavenly approved beer down Big Luigi's gullet, whether he knows it or not. And then cast a spell on Big L. so that he only has eyes for Isabella.
And thank you very much for your kind words.
From Vegemite Black beer
Rams mount without a care.
Another fine tale from Leprechaunia, me thinks, magi. You do know how to weave some colorful threads on your loom.
Ah, the wee drop.
I like your colorful stories, Magi!
I about fell out of my chair laughing when I read this:
Welsh opera for German beer halls, the stupendous, How Brown and Thirsty was My Valley - to be sung by goose stepping, legless baritones.
It is quite a feat to be a goose stepping, legless baritone without feet, my friend. Such is a sad affliction, I fear.
I so enjoyed this and I actually wanted to 'be' there. You write with a magic pen!
Marilyn
I bow to you.
You however, make me laugh out loud. Too bad your series isn't on American TV. I'll bet it would be a big hit.
LOL. I saw your comment go through the feed and just couldn't help myself.