While My Luck Runs Out

            I seem to be the subject of a bet. And not just the subject of any bet, but a bet between a banshee and a leprechaun! The leprechaun had tied my shoe laces together and tripped to me in a meadow by the river. This is even more amazing since before this happened my boots did not have laces.

            He then started clapping his hands, doing a jig, and laughing. Have you ever heard a leprechaun laugh? It’s not a fun sound.

            It was a few minutes after that that the banshee appeared. She started screaming almost immediately. Still, this high pitched noise was less annoying than the lepre-laugh. I'm not sure why she is so angry at the leprechaun. He keeps telling her that he won and then she starts screaming again. Honestly all I want is a pair of ear plugs!

            This grass is wet. I am quite uncomfortable, but I can’t get these enchanted boot laces unknotted. Oh. The banshee just threw a comb at the leprechaun. Bonked him right on his wee noggin. I’m assuming that is proper term for a leprechaun’s head or am I being culturally insensitive?

            Maybe I should worry about the semantics later. The banshee is coming towards me.

            Really not sure what to do here. She is just shrieking. Do I tell her that I don’t speak shriek? Maybe she could mime whatever she’s trying to tell me. I assume mime is an art form mastered by all mythical creatures.

            “I assume you’re trying to tell me when I’m going to die?”

            The leprechaun is frowning at me. “Die? What makes you say that?”

            “There’s a banshee. My ears hurt. I’m sorry if this is presumptuous, but it seems the most logical reasoning.”

            “Oh for the love of—” After picking himself up, the leprechaun is signaling for his rival to quiet herself for a moment. “That’s just how she talks. Everyone always thinks that she’s predicting doom or death, but the truth is that people just act like such eejits when she’s about that they get into terrible accidents after meeting her.”

            The banshee is interrupting him with a short shriek. “Oh, and heart attacks. Her voice does cause a lot of heart attacks,” the little man adds.

            “That’s . . . nice. Can I ask why you two are keeping me prisoner in a field and why you gave me shoe laces?”

            “You can.”

            The banshee is nodding in agreement.

            “Why are you two keeping me prisoner in a field and why did you give me shoelaces?”

            The woman’s red hair iswaving back and forth. It looks like it could wrap around her neck and choke her. She wailing quite a bit. Is this the banshee equivalent of ranting?

            “Will you hush up? He can’t understand you anyway.” They are both rolling their eyes. “You aren’t our prisoner. You can leave whenever you want.”

            “I can? Are you sure, because I’ve been trying to untie these laces ever since your friend arrived and—”

            “I gave you laces and tied them together because I bet this one here three pieces of gold that could get a human to bow down to me.”

            “Not to be rude, but I really didn’t bow. I fell.”
            A giant grin is on the banshee’s face. Uh oh, the leprechaun is turning red. There’s steam coming out of his ears. Can he explode? Is that something leprechauns do? He’s stomping his feet and swearing. I mean, really swearing. He’s saying words that I’m fairly certain are illegal in my village.

            The banshee just screeched something at him. It sounded rather smug and annoyed, which I never knew a screech sound that way. Whatever she said, it made the leprechaun calm down.

            He walking away and answering the banshee t the same time. “Very well. You buying is a good enough prize, I suppose. But I did win.”

            And she screamed back him. They are walking away towards the pub. And they just left me here. In the mud. With my boots tied together.

            Anyone have a knife handy?