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Tuesday, March 17, 2015

ST. PATRICK'S NIGHT AT MEILORI'S




It was St. Patrick's Night at Meilori's.
Hibbs, the cub with no clue, was hiding there from Ratatoskr, the Asgardian Squirrel.




As if hiding from that rascally rodent was possible.

Hibbs got smacked in the back of the head with a snowball so hard that for a moment he became TWO cubs!




Ratastoskr found that so funny he forgave the cub for trying to hide from him.

The squirrel scampered up beside the fuming Hibbs as the cub rubbed the back of his wet head.

"Why do people wear shamrocks on St. Patrick's Day, fur-face?"

Hibbs tried to think of a way to tweak the nose of this snowball ambusher and smiled, "Because real rocks are too heavy."

Ratatoskr pouted, "No fair!  You're not supposed to know the answer."

Hibbs smiled wider.  "I have one for you now.  Knock.  Knock."

The squirrel scowled, "Who's there?'

"Irish."

"Irish who?"

"Irish you a happy St. Patrick's Day,"  

And so tickled was Hibbs at the look in Ratatoskr's eyes, he fell giggling on his back.

The squirrel popped to the table to his right and snapped back his own question. 

 "How did the Irish Jig get started?"


The Asgardian Squirrel had not noticed the small man in green with murderous eyes sitting at the table who rumbled,

"Faith now, but the answer is clear: too much to drink and too few restrooms. 

And ye scrawny rodent, ye made me spill me drink. Now, I'll be spilling yer guts!"

Despite their long history of bickering, Hibbs thought of Ratatoskr as a friend so he waddled up to the table.  

"You get my pal over my dead body!"

Hibbs realized he might have possibly phrased that a bit better as the leprechaun rose evilly to his feet.

"Sure now, but that can be arranged."


A shimmer of snowflakes and stardust slowly formed into the regal Turquoise Woman

who held the First Hawk of Creation next to her icy heart.



Her voice was winter given life.  "Do you know why I love to eat leprechaun?"

First Hawk, later to be called Little Brother by Hibbs, cawed, "Short ribs!"

And off ran the yelping leprechaun with First Hawk flying happily after him.


Ratatoskr turned to Hibbs.  "What do you get when you cross a short-legged leprechaun with a hunting hawk?"

Hibbs shook his head mystified.

The squirrel laughed, "Not Fast Enough Food!"


8 comments:

  1. Good jokes! I may be Irish but I haven't heard these ones before.

    A good and happy St. Pat's Day to you, Roland my dear.

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  2. Helena:
    I'm part Irish myself (along with part Lakota!). Ratatoskr tries to be original with his terrible jokes ... as does Hibbs, the cub with no clue ... or taste! :-)

    And may your St. Pat's Day AND Night be happier and safer than poor Hibbs' (at least I gave his name the honor of being green!!) :-)

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  3. Hi Roland .. lovely take on St Patrick with news of Hibbs, First Hawk, and all critters .. as too Turquoise Woman ... it's good to see green around. Cheers and hope you're feeling better .. take care - Hilary

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  4. Hilary:
    Yes, I felt in an Irish WIND IN THE WILLOWS mood. :-) Hibbs has sworn off visits to Meilori's though!

    Alex:
    Who knew the Turquoise Woman had such a "sharp" sense of humor, right? :-)

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  5. That was very cute Roland. Happy St Patricks day :)

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  6. Hi Roland - Thanks for asking about my screenplay. I haven't written much more of it, but on the bright side I've written an outline of the next 8-10 scenes, so it's really fleshing out in my head and I'm connecting the dots and developing the characters. I've also realized this is better than rushing forward with the writing and then cutting and rewriting over and over--I'm trying to get it down right the first time and then (ideally) I'll only have to polish it.

    I'm so sorry you're still in pain. Would having a drink or two in honor of St. Patrick help?

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  7. Helena:
    I get into enough trouble completely sober! :-) The thought of me drinking makes my friends who do drink gulp down another shot in horror!

    Dean Koontz writes the same page over and over until it is completely edited and then goes on to the next page ... like you do.

    If you gave me your physical address, I would send you my print version of THE LEGEND OF VICTOR STANDISH.

    Pain keeps me centered, but it also drains me. I need a stunt double! :-)

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