"It's true I tell ya, It's true." Josh Henderson spouts. An apparent elderly man of many years. His gray hair flared outwards with his excited voice and shaking hands. The bar was not crowded, just a couple men with disbelief brow and shunning jests. A small group sat at a distant table with no interest to his ranting. The dimly lit smoky bar was modestly decorated with beer banners and shamrocks.
They bellowed out with laughter and wise cracks. The comedian being Josh Henderson, the local drunk. He had been around this town for as long as any one can remember. Telling the same story year after year.
The festive day of green and Leprechauns, St. Patrick's Day was here again as was Josh with his annual tale. His haunting story he told every day but especially St. Patrick day. His breath reeked strong of whiskey and his aroma was musty. The bar-keep continued wiping the counter while Josh spat his yarn.
"I was walking in the rain along the sandy brook over yonder by the willows. When I seen the wee people." Sat his shot glass down and wiped his mouth with his old jacket's sleeve. "Those Fairies." He blurted out angrily.
"It was Fairies that did you, old Josh?" Asked the bartender laughing.
"No, it was the Leprechauns, I done told you." Josh blurted out with excitement. Waving his frail hands and shaking them at the bartender. "Those little tricksters nailed me in the key'ster." He said with excitement and drank down another hardy swallow of his whiskey then wiped his mouth again with his sleeve in one long swipe.
"Oh, ok." The bartender laughed looking at the two gentlemen at the end of the bar. Swiveling in their barstools while laughing loudly at Josh's animated tale.
"I was soaking wet from the pouring rain too. I might add, it was a bit cold. So me little fellow was quite small." Josh nursed his drink then jest for another.
"The Leprechauns were small?" The bartender asked while pouring Josh another shot of whiskey.
"No, my wee willy was small from the cold. Ya, know how it is when the wonder wand shrivels up into a clover from the bite of the cold." Josh shows with his fingers description of size between his thumb and index finger.
"Your cock shrunk up from the cold?" One of the men at the end of the bar shouted laughing.
"Exactly." Josh said winking and swaying from his intoxication. Pointing his finger at the man shaking it. "Pissed the little buggers off, too." He said with pride. "I was coming by the willows when I crossed the bridge and heard one of them crying." Josh said and took a sip of his courage.
The men at the end of the bar and the bar-keep huddled among themselves whispering and laughing at the old man's tale. Playing it off that he was either very drunk or senile.
"I help the little tike or so I thought. Out from under the bridge and down the shady trail to the Evans's old barn. I kindly took my coat and sheltered him from the rain." Josh shook his head up and down. "Yes I did, didn't want the little tike to melt from the rain." Josh sipped his drink then smacking his lips he continued. "I helped the little man dressed in green bout, yeh high." Putting his hand out to his waist, staggering.
"And another thing." Josh started. "They don't melt in the rain. The little vermin lied to me. Tricked me into helping him into the barn on that rainy day, he did." Old man Josh spewed his tale with mumbling words that entertained the bar occupants. "Once I was in the barn those little fairies grabbed me and pulled me to a beam and tied me there, they did." Excited and rambling with his words and story.
"The fairies did?" The bar-keeper said laughing and snickering, knowing it would just fire old Josh up again.
"No, I told you it was the Leprechauns that took their liberties with my arse." Josh planted his elbows on the bar frustrated with his lack of communication. "They were supposed to grant me three wishes I thought. If you help a Leprechaun aren't they suppose to give ya three wishes?" Josh asked the barkeeper excitedly.
The bartender shrugged and looked around at the rest of Josh's audience, shrugging their shoulders at each other. "Don't know Josh. So what happen?" The bartender egged him on with a snicker.
"They said that they had a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. If I answered 3 questions right; I got the gold." He said with a low rumble and all listeners perked up to his words.
"Gold?" rang out from several listeners at the same time. The old mans tale suddenly got interesting. The questions flooded Josh's ears. "Where?" and "How much gold old man." The questions faded as Josh began again.
"Well yeah gold. But I had to answer their questions and if I was wrong, well. Let me tell you it was no picnic." Josh shook his old and slightly bent finger at them.
"What kind of questions, Josh?" The bar-keep giggled while asking.
"Well I don't know the kind of questions a man full of spirits shouldn't try to answer that's all I remember. Hard questions. The kind a scientist would scratch his chin over, I can tell ya that." Josh sipped his whiskey and sat down the empty glass and pointed for another. The spectators for this little act laughed and mocked him cheerfully. The center of the St. Patrick's day nightly entertainment.
"Those little buggers pulled down my pants and saw my freezing cold wee willy. Pissed them off it did." Josh laughed while another full shot glass sat before him. He licked his lips and twisted the glass gazing at it like a crystal ball. As if seeing his memories in the mesmerizing color. "So they said they would have to go to plan B." Josh blurts before taking a deep shot of the whiskey.
"Plan B? What was that Old man?" One of the listeners yelled.
"Well they bent me over and tied me head with rope to my knees that kept me bent like a saloon pretzel. Those little vermin where nymphs I tell ya." Josh mumbled and cursed while savoring another sip.
