To celebrate St. Patty's Day: A repost of a story I wrote several years ago
After they visited Scotland, Flickertail, the llama and Paint, the horse took a detour to Ireland before going home.
As they were touring the Guinness Storehouse and Brewery in Dublin they met Lochlann, the Leprechaun who was crying in his beer about a stolen pot.
“When did you discover it was missing?”
“Around the same time that the Brewery was robbed. It was the biggest robbery in the history of the brewery.“
“What was taken from the Brewery?”
“450 kegs of Guinness.”
“Could the same person or people who stole the Guinness have stolen your pot?”
“Possibly, but the Garda Siochana Police Force didn’t find my pot.”
“Where did you last see the pot?”
“At the end of the rainbow of course. Everyone knows that. Are you sure you can help me?” he asked doubtfully.
Flickertail looked at Paint and whispered, “I think this guy’s had one too many Guinness.”
“Just go along with him,” said Paint.
“Show us,” Flickertail said to Lochlann.
“We’ll have to wait until it rains. While we’re waiting for it to rain lets have another Guinness all around.”
By mid afternoon it started raining while they were singing “When Irish Eyes are Smiling.” Several songs later a rainbow appeared.
“Follow that rainbow,” Lochlann shouted.
When they reached the end of the rainbow, there was no pot. All that they found was an empty pint of Guinness with a note inside. It said I’m holding your pot for ransom. If you want to see it again, bring more Guinness to the next rainbow and no cops. You’re being watched.
“Hmm, sounds like he might be nearby,” said Flickertail.
“Isn’t there supposed to be gold in the pot?” Paint asked
“That’s a bunch of blarney.”
“What is in the pot then? Surely no one would bother to steal an empty pot?”
“Guinness, of course.”
“What good is the pot once it’s empty?”
“It refills itself but only if you are Irish.”
“So we know the pot thief isn’t Irish.”
“Everybody’s Irish on St. Patty’s Day.”
“Well that’s not until the 17th. Today’s only the 15th.”
“I don’t think that Lochlann should go alone,” said Paint. “The thief may just try to kidnap him so that the pot keeps refilling.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I think you should dress like a leprechaun and go in his place.”
“You’re smaller than I am. I’m as big as a horse. No one is going to believe I’m a leprechaun.”
“He’s going to be awfully upset when he finds out I’m not Irish.”
“I’ll be within ear shot.”
“Me too; I want my pot back and I can help. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, if we need them,” said Lochlann.
So the trio went to the end of the next rainbow where they encountered Hamish the Coo. “What are you doing in Ireland?” the detectives asked in unison.
“I followed you from Scotland. The only thing that comes close to Guinness in Scotland is Tennent's Stout.”
“YOU’RE the thief!”
“No one is going to believe that a Scottish cow stole a leprechaun’s pot for Irish beer.”
“Well, this is certainly one for the Guinness Book of Records.”