The Housepainter

He was just a housepainter on holiday...or was he?

         Ruben Ramos is a security officer at the world famous San Diego Zoo. Last year Ruben and his wife vacationed in Ireland. While there, Ruben, on his own, set out to capture a leprechaun. He read where leprechauns are very tricky and next to impossible to capture. But there is something the wee elves do to increase the odds of their capture: they take long naps in churchyards.
         Ruben purchased a length of rope and an extremely large butterfly net, and on a cool afternoon went about visiting churchyards. Upon visiting his third churchyard, Ruben saw napping against Molly Malone’s stone what he perceived to be a leprechaun. He snuck up on the napping ‘leprechaun’ and quickly lashed his wrists together.
         The man, abruptly jerked from his nap, began loudly protesting.
         “W’id ya tie me up? Lemme go! I done notin!”
         Ruben held tightly to the rope.
         “I ain’t lettin’ ya go, period.”
         “Tese ropes are hurtin’ ma wrists!”
         “Stop your whinin’ for chri’sake. I ain’t lettin’ you go, period.”
         “Ah, a kidnapper ya are. But wha da ya wan wit wee little ol’ me? I naw good for noting. Just ya look how scrawny I am, and sickly too. cough cough.”
         Excited, but calm, Ruben explained.
         “Look, my little friend, I know what happens when someone catches one of you guys.”
         “Happens? Wha tar ya talkin', ‘ya know wha happens? And wut wit ta ‘you guys’ bit?”
         “Any leprechaun—meanin' you—who is captured, has to grant the person who captured him—meanin' me—a wish.”
“Why, tat be ta dopiest tang I ever heard. Certain a nut loose, lad, ya got. I tant be a leprechaun. Leprechauns, if tar be such tangs, make shoes and wear green clothes, Ma name is Ross. I’m a housepainter from Brooklyn. And be certain, wha color are ma duds?”
         “Green.”
         “Green! Ya mus be colorblind. Tiss outfit’s a faded shade of Robin's egg blue.”
         “Looks green to me.”
         “I should know wha color I'm wearin'. I am a housepainter, ya know.”
         “Yeah, that's what you said, but I ain't convinced. Convince me.”
         “Of what, tat I'm a housepainter, or tat I'm no a leprechaun?”
“I couldn't care less about your architectural finishing skills. Convince me tat…that you are not a leprechaun.”
         “Well, leprechauns are Irish. I'm an American from Brooklyn. I’m here in Ireland visitin’ ma dear old grandmother. Besides tat, leprechauns tell lies. Have I ever lied ta ya?”
         “I don't know if you have or haven't.”
         “Tar y’go, tin. I'll tell ya straight ta yer face, I never lie. Here’s more proof: leprechauns are wee little men. I'm just short. Leprechauns ‘ave pockets full of lucky charms. Ma pockets ‘ave but a few Cheerios in ‘em. See, look far yourself.”
         “You mean, you can't grant me a wish?”
         “Even if I wanted ta, I can't grant wishes. I tant a leprechaun.”
         “Cross your heart and hope to die?”
         “Untie me sir, and I'll cross ma heart and hope to die. I'll even stick a needle in ma one good eye. I tant a leprechaun!”
         “Well, maybe you're not what I was hopin' you were. You are, after all, wearin' blue, and you do have Cherrios in your pockets. Okay, hold still, and I'll untie you.”
         “Ah, yes, tat’s much better. Tose ropes were cuttin’ into ma wrists. Just ta let ya know, if I were a leprechaun, which I tant, all I would have ta do ta grant your wish is ta snap ma fingers, like this. *snap*.
         “Hey! Where’d you go?”
         Standing next to Molly Malone’s stone, holding a length of rope in one hand and a butterfly net in the other, Ruben was left muttering to himself.
         “Now, that was one clever housepainter.”