It was just then that the Leprechaun appeared between Frank and Kyle.
"While I hate to interrupt this... touching family moment," giggled the little man.
"I'm afraid little Kyle here has obligations for me which he's required to do. Isn't that right, Kyle?"
"Yes, Mr. Leprechaun!" said Kyle, an odd, almost gleeful look overcoming him.
"Go and change, lad, can't have your running around me house in your skivies--wouldn't want to give me neighbors the wrong impression."
Kyle nodded and eagerly ran for his room, leaving a rather confused but protective Frank alone with the Leprechaun.
"Now wait a sec, you can't just take my son whenever you feel like it," bellowed Frank.
And with a devilish grin, and a flick of his wrist, a long scroll flew from his fingertips and rolled down to the ground and across out out of the room in a green puff of smoke. "I have a contract that says otherwise, a magically binding one. One in which any of the conditions are failed to be met, whatever condition you or your son are in shall be how reality resets itself--to start, followed by certain consequences being taken for not fulfilling the terms of contract. See here? Little Kyle signed it, in crayon if I'm not mistaken."
And the end of the contract was held up to Frank's eyes and he could see as clear as day that Kyle had indeed scribbled a signature in childish handwriting with a crayon at the end of the document. But that didn't put the matter to rest in Frank's mind.
"What kind of consequences?"
"Oh, reality resets with little Kyle here being subject to a custody dispute between you and your ex-wife."
"I don't have an ex-wife."
"You don't now, but if reality were to reset yourself, you might. Or the years you've gained would be filled in with the absolute worst possible choices for yourself, and vice versa for little Kyle. And the worst thing of all... ádh mór uafásach." said the little man with a terrible shiver.
"Ádh mór uafásach?"
The leprechaun snapped his fingers and the scroll disappeared. "Bad luck, as you English speakers might call it. A lifetime's worth of it, for you both."
"And what if I don't believe in bad luck?" asked Frank as he definitely crossed his arms.
"Considering you've gone from a studly twenty something to a wee little boy, to a pudgy old man, I would think believing in luck would be far easier, sonny."
"Can we go, Mr. Leprechaun? I'm really eager to wash your floors." said Kyle, having changed into a pair of dirty overalls and a tattered green shirt.
"Of course of course, and after that you can muck my stables and rub me poor tired feet--they get so sore from me jigs. Say bye bye to Daddy for the day."
"Now wait!" began Frank, but by the time he'd finished saying so, he'd become blinded by green smoke and both the leprechaun and Kyle had vanished.