Twink drank deeply from his mug of green beer, and then wiped his mouth on his sleeve with a sigh.  “These American college kids really know how to celebrate the old holiday,” he said to his companion, Curly, who like him had a mug in his hand as they sat on a brick wall at the edge of campus, watching the sun go down on the merrymaking students.

“They certainly do get into the spirit of things,” Curly agreed.  “Ready for the next round?”

Twink nodded as Curly snapped his fingers and a pitcher floated from a nearby table, unnoticed by the loud group of revelers who sat there. 

Twink and Curly were part of what were known colloquially as “The Little Folk.”   They, along with a number of their kin, had immigrated to the States to get away from political unrest in their native country.  Their group had chosen to settle down in the forest area surrounding a medium-sized university.  While a few knew of their presence, most remained ignorant since they only showed themselves to those of Irish descent or those who proved trustworthy.

The pair refilled their mugs from the pilfered pitcher and were just about to partake, when a low, keening cry reached their pointed ears.

Turning as one, the diminutive duo quickly turned sharp eyes toward a line of trees that edged the campus, obscuring a bike and walking trail that ran along its parameter.

“Not a good night to be out in the woods alone, even as sparse as they are here,” Twink said.  “It weren’t hurt to have a look.” 

Curly merely sighed, sat down his mug on the low wall, and settled his pointed hat squarely on his head, then hopped off the wall to follow the sound, which now was louder and had taken on a note of panic.

Silently popping toward the trees, the two made their way unobserved toward the source of the noise.  Not far along the trail they spotted a pair of men in dark clothing, covered in tats, who appeared to be in their thirties, much older than the norm for college students.  They were holding a young female at knife point between them, as tears streamed down her face and she shook her head defiantly.

“Oh now, what’s got the lass so bothered?”  Curly cooed.  He had a weakness for tears, especially from a young innocent.

“Looks like those two ruffians are upsetting her!” Twink declared.  “Well that just won’t do at all, especially on Our holiday!”

A quickly whispered consult decided the fate of the two men.  It wouldn’t do to allow such mischief, especially if they were not the cause, on their chosen turf.

Sparky popped behind one of the men, while Twink took on the other one.  At a nod, they each grabbed their chosen prey by the scruff of the neck, blinking them out of sight of the young woman, who suddenly discovered she was standing alone on the dark trail.

The two leprechauns reappeared only a moment later, their victims in tow, just above the manmade lake on the other side of campus.   A second later, the nearby partygoers heard a tremendous splash as both the assailants were dropped unceremoniously into the water. 

While many of the bystanders only pointed and laughed at the scene, a few were sober and responsible enough to call campus security.  The officers who arrived to see the pair struggling out of the lake quickly recognized them as being wanted for assault, robbery and a number of other crimes.   They grabbed the two and slapped cuffs on them, leading them to their patrol car.

One of the men protested, “You have to help us.  We were minding our own business, when we were grabbed by invisible men and dumped in the middle of the lake!”

Officer O’Malley only chuckled, “Sure lad, tell me another one.  You must have done something to call the wrath of the Little Folk down on yeah!”

“The little folk? What are you talking about?”

“The Little Folk don’t take kindly to those who harm others, especially on Their big holiday.  You’ll be lucky if their done with yeah.”  Officer O’Malley smiled as he looked in his rearview mirror, and a small figure in a pointed hat, perched on the top of the rear seat, winked back at him.

The moral of the story is: if you are up to no good, beware, especially on St. Patrick’s Day.  You never know when you may earn the wrath of a group of transplanted Little Folk.

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Have a safe and healthy holiday, everyone!