Sharp Shapes

“There’s no doubt about it,” Murray whispered at his camera phone. “It’s a leprechaun!” the mid-40s man giggled gleefully.  He turned the phone to point the camera the other way. A small man in green was sitting on a stool next to a large black pot. The tiny man seemed to be reading a magazine and waiting. Murray turned the camera back on himself. “I been watching him for hours. Now it’s time to go catch ‘im and get his gold!”

Murray pocketed his phone. He kept his eyes on the seated leprechaun and he took a wide route around the small clearing to sneak up behind it.

“Gotcha!” Murray yelled. He clasped his hands around the small man who, to Murray’s surprise, didn’t make any effort to wriggle away.

“Can I help you?’ the leprechaun asked with a small, helium-like voice.

“I CAUGHT A LEPRECHAUN!” Murray yelled. “I get a wish and gold! I’m rich!”

“Not from me you’re not,” the leprechaun replied. Murray’s celebration stopped immediately.

“What d’ya mean not from you?” Murray asked. “Those are the rules.” The small man nodded.

“Those are the rules for free leprechauns. I’m already working for someone, so catching me doesn’t do anything for you,” he said.

“Yer lyin’,” Murray said. Despite his protest, his grip on the leprechaun loosened ever so slightly. The leprechaun shook his head.

“Go check the pot! If I were free, there’d be gold in there.” Murray carried the leprechaun forward with a slight grunt. The tiny man didn’t weigh much more than his eight-year-old nephew. Murray peeked in the pot not sure what to expect.

“What the hell?” The pot was full of neon pink shapes. His first thought was the contents reminded him of his daughter’s breakfast cereal.

“What’s that?” he asked. He set the leprechaun down on the floor and released him completely.

“Sharp Shapes!” the leprechaun said. “The most magical breakfast cereal available in twenty-seven universes,” he said with practiced enthusiasm.

“You’re making cereal?” Murray asked. The leprechaun shrugged.

“I don’t have to run away every time I hear footsteps,” he said. Murray nodded. That was something he could understand.

“Is it any good?” Murray asked. The leprechaun shrugged.

“It’s too sweet for me to tell; leprechauns don’t actually like sugar. Hey,” he said as a sudden idea struck him. “You were out here looking for gold. Want an easy job?”

“Sure, what’s that?” Murray asked.

“I need a taste tester. Do you like cereal?”

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