The Mini-burger

FanFic in the Birmoverse

The Wee Men – savo

The lights flickers as the big generator cut in, it’s low rumble vibrating the air throughout the compound.

Michael signalled the bar-keep, a burly Welsh woman named Joan, and had some brown alcoholic liquid splashed into the bottom of his glass and that of his drinking companion, Patrick.

“Hoo lang has it bin Paddy?” Mick wondered aloud.
“How long has what been Mick?” replied his well and truly cooked butty.

“Since they squeezed the leprechaun.”
“What leprechaun?” asked Paddy look at Mick through his one focusing eye.

“You know,” he nodded to his surrounds. A poorly lit shipping container-cum Rosie-O’Grady’s franchised traditional Irish Pub, plonked down in the middle of New York’s financial district . “The leprechaun that did all this.”

..?” mouth Pat.

“You know it was a leprechaun” sneered Mick
“No I don’t” Mick did his best to sound a prtest.

“Sure you do, what else could do this.”
“Mick you’re pissed” Said Paddy as if it was a law.

“No I’m not,” he shook his head emphatically, “… yes I am, but listen to me. There we all were, sure. The whole world of us. We were grieving with the Americans about the twin towers an all the rest. But we were all so scared shiteless of what that fookin nutter Sadam wus goin to do when they attacked. There we were scared, and so we wished, we wished hard that it would all just go away and you know what?” asked Mick

“No, what?” Replied Paddy


“Poof. We wished, some dozy prick was squeezing a we fella’s arm and we wished. Then come that big red rainbow in the sky and ‘poof’ they’re gone. And this is what we got, the end of the rainbow” he exclaimed holding out his arms. “And paddy me old son what is it that’s at the end of the rainbow?”
“The pot of gold.” Grinned Paddy.

“Aye, but lets just hope Kippers Angry Bastards don’t spring us before we’ve cleaned it out.”

Both men grinned as Joan refilled their glasses with cheap grain alcohol. The low crump shook the few bottle of genuine whiskey on the top shelf as blasting started again on wreckage of the Federal Reserve in beautiful deadtown New York.

Mick 35 year old Belfast labourer, recently from London
Patrick 39 Ulster boy claims no attachment to the Provos
Joan 44 MI6 field operative 20 years service sent to NY, NY to observe “The Caper”


3 April, 2009 - Posted by | Pepsi Challenges, Without Warning

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