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[T'was a fine evening in Good Spirits, where regular patrons and first time visitors alike could lurk in their corners, drink their ale, socialise and maybe thank whoever might be listening in that the chaos in the village had yet to touch their favourite drinking spot. Ohoho.Suddenly, a wild pooka appears!  Slamming the door open, sword in hand,

Comments

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[Two little girls with swords! This leprechaun horde doesn't stand a chance. Though they don't actually have guns, just wine bottles and various blunt instruments designed to beat you about the head with--]

Hello, Lucy! Could you give me a hand? [Because clearly a not-quite-queen with a sword is all she needs in this situation! Less boring than crackers, right?]

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[Can't go past Mythbusters Katie is also whacking at them, sword in hand-- although she seems to be using the flat of her sword more than anything else right now. She's just having too much fun.]

I think they're polar bears! In disguise!

[...totally believable right >_>]

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Why not? I would think it's an excellent disguise if you wanted to sneak into a bar.

[Or...trample wildly into a bar, as the case may be. She ducks the swing of a chair and kicks the wielder in the shins, sending him howling and swearing in Gaelic.]

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Polar bears are secretly very jealous that they don't have bars in the South Pole.

[Oh good show, Lucy. Katie approves. She'll settle for swinging a bar stool at the mob instead.]

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[Probably not! But Katie chooses her conversations inappropriately at the best of times.]

Oh no! Polar bears and [smack] eskimos and [crunch!] and ice dragons, too!

[Oh my.]

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Oh yes. We go there every summer to hunt for dragon's-- [Pow. Really, someone should be holding up Batman side effects. She'll look into that one day--] --eggs.

[Incredibly so! Katie starts aiming for the windows. Luckily they tend to be rather open in summer.]

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Lots of vigorous exercise! [Oh the leprechaun crowd is thinning a little! She dodges one particularly ambitious swipe.] And sheepskin coats.

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[It seems not! Perhaps being thrown out of the bar is all the discouragement they need! ...or perhaps they merely found someone else to pick on.]

Oh, I'm very sensible. As long as it's sensible to be sensible!

[Who knew smacking a leprechaun in the face with a chair could be so therapeutic.]