The passes are for 99 of your closest friends! You laugh at the thought, still you could make a party out of it. The funny thing is you don't remember entering the contest that you apparently wone. Oh, well, a prize is a prize and your grandfather Seamus said never look a gift horse in the mouth. Of course, he sometimes added that it might be a pookah, whatever that was...
You arrange a party bus and charge a cover charge, you grin everyone wants to go to the zoo on a party bus, and best of all the pass includes use of the private party area. You load the bus cheap booze and snacks, and manage to sell all 98 passes (well, you did give away a couple, but at $25 bucks a pop, after expenses you've got a couple grand).
You're flying high. Perhaps a bit too high. The party in the zoo pavillion is going full swing. Your buddy is djing, people are dancing, and somebody found the light controls so the strobes are going. It's a private zoo, so the beer is still flowing. You finish your fifth Jello shot, and sit upright with a start. You see a tiny figure shaped like a man dart between the dancers legs and disappear into the bushes. Your first thought is "how did a kid get in here?" You take off after it. There must be 40 people dancing back at the pavillion, which is kind of odd as there were nearly 100 to start. You hope you don't run into any of the party goers having sex in the bushes, especially with a little kid lost in here.
You catch a glimpse of a shadow by your knee as you pass a banana tree. You start to take a step forward and spin and grab the figure.
"Gotcha!" you say as your hands close around the tiny shoulders.
It's not a kid though, it's a really tiny man, a midget, you guess. A party crasher you decide, not that you have anything against little people, but it's $25 he owes you. You're going to give him a piece of your mind.
"You got me, laddie, fair and square. You caught the leprechaun," the little man said with an Irish brogue. He smacked his tongue and added, "Now what shall I be doing to punish you?"
"Punish me? You're the one who crashed my private party. I thought you were a lost toddler and I came to rescue you, and you're going to punish me? Hey, wait, aren't leprechauns supposed to grant wishes or give people pots of gold?"
"Oh, there you go stereotyping me people. Give people pots of gold, indeed! So I turned a skinflint miser into a pot of gold and give him to the impoverished tenant family he was treating as slaves, and suddenly, leprechauns are giving pots of gold away," he mutters angrily and shakes his head.
"Uh, okay," you say not sure what to think,must be too much beer or maybe the jello shots, "Sorry about that, but if you want to go to the party the price is $25 same as everyone else." You relax your grip on the little man's shoulders.
"Maybe you're not such a bad sort. Least ways, when you're a bit snockered. But leprechauns never pay the price, that's something mortals do when they tangle with leprechauns. Imagine the nerve of that zoo keeper, he planned to have a live leprechaun exhibit at his zoo. Mind you the zoo was a grand idea, but after he built all these fine buildings the keeper didn't have enough money for animals to fill it. Still, you and your friends are helping to fill the cages."
"We are?" you ask in a confused voice.
"Indubitably," says the little man cheerfully breaking free from your grip, "Follow me, I'll show you."
"Okay," you say following him along the path through the bushes.