Flash Fiction Friday - Mister Jingles

A gift from the happy leprechaun

I pushed my way through the crowd of St. Patrick’s Day revelers, heading for the exit of the pub and hopefully a place to piss. The line for the pub toilets hadn’t moved in an eternity and my bladder was telling me that it was about to rebel.

Outside at last, I breathed in the cool night air, trying to ignore the scent of vomit coming from the pile of pavement pizza by the front door. I stumbled in the opposite direction and headed up a dimly lit alley, looking for a place to relieve myself. Spying a dumpster about halfway down the alley, I picked up my pace, unzipping my fly on the go.

I gagged again as I passed the dumpster. God only knew what was in there, but it was almost certainly well beyond its sell by date. Ignoring the stench, I pulled out my flaccid cock and waited for the magic to happen. The first couple of dribbles promised a stream, but it came in fits and spurts, no matter how much pressure I applied to the flow.

Resting my head against the brick wall, I cursed myself for not taking the advice of the urologist. My prostate issues were now worse than ever, to the point I couldn’t remember the last time I had pissed without any type of struggle.

“Ye look to be struggling there, fella.”

The voice, which carried a distinctly Irish brogue came from the end of the alley. Had I been in full flow, I would have likely pissed all over my lime green trousers. As it was, a couple of splashes plopped harmlessly on my sneakers. “Who’s there?” I called out in the direction of the voice.

The sound of jingling bells tickled my ears as a little man dressed as a leprechaun stepped into the light. He looked the worse for wear, his costume torn in places and stained with all manner of food and fluids. His top hat was dented, the Celtic band above the brim in need of a spit polish, just as his pointy shoes were. “Well, me names Jingles O’Flaherty, but you may call me Mister Jingles.”

“Lucky charmed, I’m sure,” I wisecracked. “Listen, I don’t have any money.”

His jolly face turned sour at my words, and I almost saw something green flicker in his eyes. He tugged at his stringy red hair as through preparing to pull it out in frustration. “Heavens be hated, ye are unbecoming.”

“No offense, mate. I just wanted to have a piss in peace. Happy Saint Patty’s and all that.”

“It’s Paddy’s,” he screamed. “You Yanks haven’t the faintest clue. I was just trying to help a fella out.”

I apologized again as I tucked my pathetic dick back in my pants. “Unless you’ve got a cure for my piss problems, I don’t see how you can help.”

The smile reappeared as he reached into his jacket pocket, producing a shiny gold coin as bright as the midday sun. He flicked it toward me, and I plucked it out of the air. “Keep that on yerself and ye’ll be golden.”

I looked at the coin and then back at the little man, who was once again receding into the shadows. “What do you want from me?”

He disappeared into the dark without offering a response.

---

I awoke in bed with a groan and a splitting headache, my full bladder prompting me to get up. I slipped out from under the covers and saw that I still had on those god-awful pants. The urge to take them off and trash them was strong, but the need to piss was stronger.

Making it to the bathroom just in time, unloading a torrent of piss that would have rivaled Niagara Falls in its intensity. I let out a contented sigh and began to chuckle, delighting in the first real bathroom visit in what felt like an eternity.

My delight begam to fade as fear pressed in at the edges. The flow wasn’t stopping and was in fact getting stronger. Looking into the bowl, I began to see traces of pink emerging, followed by red, then orange, then all the colors of the rainbow.

I began to feel lightheaded as the multi-colored stream began to include chunks of something organic and meaty, the head of my dick throbbing as these pieces tore free.

A scream escaped me as I could see myself slowly wasting away. My pants slipped down around my ankles and a gold coin rolled out of the pocket before settling on the tiles, the grinning face of a leprechaun smiling up at me.

As the flow continued and I melted away, his voice came back into my head, clear as day.

“Heavens be hated, ye are unbecoming.”