Jolly the Leprechaun

Jolly

I hold the contraption at my side with my eyes set on the rainbow above. After months of research and groundbreaking technological innovation, scientists have completed a gadget that will change the world as we know it. I’m just lucky I was able to steal it from them.

I smile gleefully as I travel through the woods, swinging the clicker-style gadget near my hip. The painstaking hike lasts hours – my sneakers are muddy, my back hurts, and my stomach gurgles. I stop in my tracks – I’ve reached the end of the rainbow.

“Eric,” says Jolly the Leprechaun, eyes at a squint. “I think you must be lost. ”

“I want to make a deal,” I tell him. I walk holding my hands up, showing him I’ve got nothing on me besides the size-changing contraption. I set it down on the tree stump between us. Jolly shakes as he tries to hide his glimmering gold coins behind his two-foot-eight frame.

“No deal,” he says. Jolly nervously waves a bloody, sharpened stick. I notice the body on the ground next to him. The young man’s mouth is agape with blood dripping down his cheek. I stumble backwards when the teenager blinks and his chest rises. He’s still alive.

Jolly shoves the wooden dagger down into his heart, then twists it. His victim screams in agony and writhes until he’s completely motionless.

“You’ll never get me pot of gold, Eric,” says Jolly.

“I’ve got something to offer you this time.”

A sharp smile rises from Jolly’s lip corners. “Do you remember the last time you saw me?”

I scratch my cheek and look away. Jolly continues.

“You told you me it wasn’t right, the way humans treated me. You said you wanted to help me.”

“I did want to help-”

“When I shook your hand you grabbed me by me arm, threw me into a tree, then ran off with me pot o’ gold screaming nobody will ever love me.”

“I don’t remember that last part but I’m sorry you’re upset.”

“Oh you don’t remember the last part?” says Jolly, tugging his make-shift spear until it rips flesh as he frees it from the fresh corpse. He aims its sharpened, bloodied end aimed at me as he approaches. “Do you remember why you never escaped with me pot of gold, eh?”

“Vaguely,” I tell him.

“Oh that’s interesting,” says Jolly. “Because I remember you stopped running when you captured a raccoon then tied me legs to its sides and watched us jump around and yelled at me like I was in horse race.”

“That was wrong of me,” I say, with sincerity. “But I’m here today with something to offer you. Something that will help you from ever having to deal with people like me again.”

Jolly begins studying me with his hands on his hips.

“Listen!” I say, shaking the gadget in front of his face. “See this red button? One push, and I can make you tall, human… maybe even… generous,” I tell him.

“I don’t believe you,” says Jolly. “How tall?”

“You don’t have to! I just need you to agree and push the button. And if it doesn’t work, then fine! We won’t have a deal.”

“And you want what for it, eh? me pot o’ gold?”

“Yes, that’s all I want.”

“That’s all you want, you sniveling animal,” he says with a sneer. “That pot’s got ten million dollars worth of gold and you have the nerve to say it’s all you want.”

Jolly points his stabbing stick at me as he speaks. He lunges for the box in my hand, but I tug it away like I’m keeping candy from a child.

“You’ve got to tell me it’s a deal,” I say, softly. I hold the box out with both hands. “One press, and you can be tall. That’s all it takes Jolly.”

“This gold is all I got in life,” he says. His face burst with redness as his wrinkles contort with anger.

“Please, Jolly,” I say. “This is a win-win for both of us.”

“We’ll try it,” He blurts out, waving his stick ferociously. “But if your button doesn’t work than your stupid deal is off. I am more than willing to kill you for attempting any -”

I grab his little hand and smash it on the button. Suddenly Jolly shrinks into half his previous size, until he might as well be a leprechaun action figure.

“Oh shit,” I say.

Jolly looks at each of his hands with profound sadness. His defeated gaze slowly tilts up to me.

“Tricks are for kids, bitch!” I hop with my left foot then punt Jolly off into the leaves with my right. I grab the pot of gold sturdy with both hands and begin sprinting away, tongue hanging out my mouth.

I hear the high-pitched squeal of a lizard person screaming after me. I’m not proud of my actions but I am happy about my new riches. I stopped a murderer, I remind myself, and am a goddamn hero.

  • Thomas M. Watt

Donald and Thurma – Part 3

200bp88

If you haven’t read part 1, start here.

If you haven’t read part 2, start here.

“Waddup bitches, see you’ve met my friend. Huge cock, case you were wondering.  Name’s Freddy,” said Freddy, as he extended his hand out for the girls to shake.

Donald took Freddy’s hand, then yanked him along with him, away from the two girls. “Time to leave.”

“Strip club?” said Freddy.

The pair passed through the doorway, hurried by the smoke crowds, and headed toward the parking lot.

“She’s not feeling it. I don’t want to be here, this isn’t me,” said Donald.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Freddy. He stopped on the sidewalk. “If you want to leave to go somewhere else, that’s one thing, but if you wanna book it ’cause of some chick-”

“I know, I get it, that makes me a pussy.”

“Jeeze, Donald,” said Freddy. He looked his buddy in the eye. “I wasn’t gonna call you that, you know.”

“Ok.”

“Super pussy. That was it.” Freddy’s eyes bulged, and he pointed back toward the bar. “Look!”

Donald whirled around. The two girls were approaching, only Thurma walked stilted, like Amanda may have had a gun to her back.

“Bye I guess,” Thurma said to Donald, as they passed.

Donald waved back. “Nice meeting you,” he muttered after they were out of earshot.

“Is your dick for sale cause that shits in demand these days,” said Freddy.

“What are you talking about?”

“You leave. She leaves. She comes your way, wishes you a goodnight, checks out your package. What do you do? You rotate your hand like the slow-mix setting of a god-damned cake mixer.”

“She checked out my package?”

“Winked at it.”

Donald gulped, lightly patted his hair, then slid his hand along his button-down to smooth out the creases. He then shook his head and turned to Freddy.

“I’m only going over there if you’re one-hundred percent sure she’s interested.”

“Bro,” started Freddy. “Interests is for loaners. Girl is invested. You know who invests?”

“Stock-brokers?”

“Heart breakers.”

“What?”

“Shit rhymes, bro,” said Freddy. “Called a metaphorical simile.”

“Huh?”

Freddy kicked Donald in the ass, leading him to stumble off in the direction of Amanda and Thurma.

“Go get her heart-breaker,” said Freddy.

Donald caught himself then continued to follow his feet.”I think I can,” He said to himself. A new flurry of visuals played through his mind, the type he wasn’t accustomed to – confident images. He stopped thinking of himself as an inconvenience to the world around him, and began to entertain the possibility that he actually could make a girl happy, and maybe Thurma would be the one for him.

“I think I can,” he said to himself, chugging along the sidewalk tracks. “I think I can.”

To be continued…

  • Thomas M. Watt

Epic Night Out: Part 1

geek night

It was supposed to be one round of drinks. No girls, no wild night out, no arrests. No shots, no bong hits, no midgets. A drink between two bros who had grown so accustomed to the comfort of their former long-term girlfriends they didn’t know the first thing about what it meant to ‘go out’.

But it wasn’t.

It was more.

A lot more.

Matt took the stool at the end of the bar and Keith followed suit.

“One beer. That’s it,” said Keith.

“I get it dude. You’ll be watching t.v. at your place in no time, don’t even worry about it.

Keith scoffed.

Matt ordered two beers and soon the close friends were sipping light beers as they watched the bloopers reel on the television behind the counter.

“I love these clips,” said Keith.

Matt nodded, took a handful of bar nuts, then tossed them in his mouth. He took a good look around the place as he chewed. About four girls, three of whom were surrounded by ‘pool guys’ and one who was sitting by herself, anxiously looking at her phone. ‘Pool guys’ were those guys who stood around the pool table leaning on the sticks, messing with their hair, and smiling at any girls who walked by in hopes they could get them in a game then impress them with their ‘stick skills’.

“What about her?” said Matt. He coughed after he said it, and for the first time noticed his mouth was starting to burn.

Kieth looked over. “What about her?”

“She’s hot.”

“I thought we said no girls.”

“You said no girls.”

Keith groaned and returned to his drink. “She’s waiting for her date to get here. She has no interest in meeting anyone.”

Matt turned to face her. She did look pretty invested in her phone.

“I’m gonna go over there and find out,” Matt said, then coughed. “These bar nuts are fucking hot.”

“I thought we said no girls!”

Matt smiled then pat Keith on the shoulder. “No my friend. You said no girls.”

Matt strode over to the girl as casually as possible. He kept one hand in his jean pocket and tried his best to ignore the intense burning his tongue was starting to feel. When he stopped at her table the blonde girl finally looked up. She eyed him up and down, twirled the curly lock dangling by her ear, then chewed her gum a little more obnoxiously and smirked.

Matt smirked back. An inviting smile was always a good sign.

“Hey beautiful. I noticed you from across the room and wondered,” said Matt, before stopping to cough. “I was wondering if you,” he said, before stopping again. The last few words he barely choked out.

“Yeah?” said the blonde girl. “Wondering if I what?” She raised her eyebrows.

Matt turned to the group of guys to the left of him. They were pointing and laughing at him. On the table in the middle of them sat a bottle of “Wild Dragon’s Flaming Hot Sauce.”

Matt stared back at them, then over to the peanuts on the bar counter, then back to them.

“Who’s this?” Said someone behind him.

A hand grabbed Matt by the shoulder and whirled him around. He looked up to see the giant figure in the leather jacket standing over him.

“I don’t know,” said the blonde girl, as she smacked her gum. “I think he’s hitting on me.”

“That right?” said the giant.

Matt looked over to the end of the bar for Keith – but Kieth was already gone.

“You pussy,” Matt muttered to himself. He gulped painfully, then rolled his fingers into his palm until he had a tightly clenched fist. He winced his eyes close and took one last breath. It was time for action.

To be continued…

– Thomas M. Watt

An Encounter At The Men’s Room

Bob was standing at the urinal, whizzing away a powerful yellow stream, when his hopeful employee, Jerry, took the one beside.

“Morning Bob!”

“Ahh yes, good morning,” responded Bob, still tinkering.

As a second sound of bouncing sprays met with his ears, an eager hand caught hold of his eyes. Jerry was reaching for a handshake, with an eager smile to match.

Bob scratched his temple, before finally meeting hands with the young awkward man and engaging him in the formal greeting.

When they were done with the unprecedented urinal-handshake, Bob turned straight ahead, eyes on the white tile set before him. There was a small toot from the stall to his right, followed shortly by an obnoxiously loud slam of air, and a moment later a sound like mud pushing into a puddle.

“Got those sales reports for you, Mr. Bob!” Said Jerry.

Jerry laughed snidely as he wiggled the last few remaining drops out of his member. “Oh, you’re gonna want to hold on to those. My damn boss screwed something up, so I shall be spending the entire day trying to fix it.”

“Jerry?” Came the voice from the stall, followed by a high-pitched fart with a twist at the end of its note. “That better not be you Jerry!”

Jerry’s eyes went wide. He hurried to pull down the knob and flush away his golden liquid. Running past the sink, his idiotic employee called out to him once more.

“Jerry, aren’t you gonna wash your hands?”

“Eh…” Jerry stammered near the door, before finally taking a stand. “I got a clean dick!”

He swung the door open, and stormed out, running straight into the beautiful woman, and catching her cheek in his hand, her lips in his lips.

She kissed him back, surprised at first, before fully lip-locking with him. She smiled. “Your hand feels so… clean!”

“Err… thanks… but I actually never washed my it.”

The entire floor of business employees all gasped, dropping every and all business files they held in their possession. The men all shook their heads adamantly and pointed him back to the restroom.

“Oh get off it none of you do either.”

THE END!

– Thomas M. Watt