I was trying to write in Meilori's again when I heard a scampering of heavy furred feet.
I looked up. Hibbs, the cub with no clue.
Hibbs, being a magical being, can appear in Meilori's at any stage of his life. This time, the cub looked frantic.
"Hide me, Mr. Roland!"
There was a scurrying of sharp nails and Ratatoskr, the Asgardian squirrel, leapt to my table.
Hibbs groaned, "Too late."
Ratatoskr took my ice tea tumbler in both hands and gulped down nearly half of it.
"Poooie! Not enough sugar!"
He scurried to the sugar bowl and dumped its entire contents into my glass as I muttered under my breath.
Ratatoskr gulped down the rest of my tea.
"Ah, just right!"
Ratatoskr's eyes brightened as he spotted Hibbs. "There you are! Why can't you borrow money from a leprechaun?"
Hibbs grumbled, "If I tell you, will you go away?"
"Oh, you're funny! Like you, they're always short!"
"Where is the Turquoise Woman when you need her?" sighed tiny Hibbs.
"Oooh, another one," grinned Ratatoskr. Why don't you iron 4-leaf clovers?"
I frowned, "I don't know."
Hibbs pleaded, "Don't encourage him!"
Ratatoskr snickered, "Silly Roland, you don't want to press your luck!"
He scampered up on the shoulder of the fidgeting Hibbs and snorted, "How do you know an Irishman is having a good time?"
"Like I'm not having," moaned Hibbs.
"He's Dublin over with laughter!" Ratatoskr slapped Hibbs on the back of his furry head.
"Get it? Dublin over with laughter!!"
With a trilling moan as of a thousand Apache spirit flutes, a swirl of snowflakes suddenly appeared beside my table. My breath frosted in tiny clouds at the sudden chill.
The minature snowstorm twirled and flaired into a column of bright sparkles that slowly breathed into the tall Turquoise Woman.
Eyes, terrible and beautiful beyond the singing of them, lanced into the startled Ratatoskr who tried to swallow but couldn't.
In a voice like icicles singing, the Turquoise Woman asked the Asgardian squirrel as tiny lightnings formed at the end of her pointing forefinger.
"What do leprechauns love to barbeque?"
"Wh-What?" stuttered the terrified squirrel.
She zapped the rump of Ratatoskr with a minature lightning bolt. "Short ribs."
Hibb snickered as the squirrel grabbed his bottom with both small paws and leapt off onto the floor, scampering away for dear life.
The Turquoise Woman flowed without effort after the running Ratatoskr and asked, "When is an Irish Potato not an Irish Potato?"
She sent another sizzling bolt into the poor squirrel's butt and laughed coldly as he yelped, popping up in the air, "When it is a FRENCH fry!"
The two of them disappeared around the nearest corner in Meilori's, but we heard the faint voice of the Turquoise Woman:
"What is the main difference between an Irish wedding and an Irish funeral?"
Hibbs huffed and squirmed onto the chair beside me with a bit of an effort.
"Darn. They're out of earshot. Now, I'll be wondering all day what the answer was."
Suddenly, the Turquoise Woman appeared beside him and tweaked his ear. "One less drunk at the party!"
Hibbs yelped but she was already gone back to "rewarding" Ratatoskr for tormenting the cub she loved.