It was on the last day of Glen’s vacation when it happened. After playing his new video game for several hours a day, every day, for the last six days, it got to the point where he had been playing for twenty-one hours straight. Glen had just reached the final battle in this game of interstellar warriors that hop from planet to planet, building empires and conquering galaxies. There he sat, unshaven, unkempt, and odoriferous in his small apartment. He had become so engrossed in this game that no other thoughts have entered his mind in hours. His only thoughts had been of his warrior. Fighting and strategizing through alien worlds he had just reached his ultimate objective. The game paused momentarily. Now, it was his time to meet the last standing sentinel of this final world. He’d been eating his cold pizza and drinking his sodas (that he moved within arms reach prior to this twenty-one hour engagement) without even thinking.

Over the hours, Glen grew so confident that he’d beat the game, he began to mock the game as he played. If he were a kid on a playground, he would have been the biggest bully around. You know the kind. The ones that start pushing the other children around as soon as they are out of their parent’s sight. Telling them they can’t play on his playground. With a bit of delirium from exhaustion and now a new vigor from reaching the hilt of his quest, he yelled his verbal assaults out at the game. “Take that!” He blasted away! “Is that all you got? I own you!” His warrior was just about to land the final blow to conquer the last planet, when all went dark.

When Glen comes to, he looks around to find himself in a strange looking place. He was sitting in a white chair looking out a window. As he regains his wits he notices a control panel. It suddenly occurs to him, that’s not a window he’s looking out, it’s a windshield. He was in a cockpit. “What?” He whispers in a panic. “What the hell?” He looks around. He’s sitting in a white outlined cockpit with large white outlined rocks, slowly floating by the windshield. He looks to the left, more rocks. He looks to the right, more rocks. Then he looks out the window in front of him to see one of the large, monochromatic rocks heading right for him. It’s getting bigger and bigger. He looks around at the controls in the ship. He pushes a button that has the word Fire on it. The rock splits in two pieces. One of the rocks is still heading right for him. BOOM! His ship exploded into pieces. Glen’s white outlined body went floating out in space. Spinning slowly. He clutched throat gasping for air. Then he faded away in the blackness.

Glen woke up. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” He shouts as he gasps for air. He looks around, and realizes he’s back in the ship. Asteroids again coming right at him. He looks at the controls in front of him. Thrust. Fire. And a joystick that has arrows that point to the left and right. That’s when he realizes, “I’m in Asteroids.” He says to himself. A large asteroid is moving right for him. Glen grabs the joystick, turn the ship to the left and presses the thrust button. He watches the asteroid go past the right side of the ship. He looks up at the top left edge of the cockpit window. He sees his score. Twenty points. That must be for the asteroid that he shot into two pieces before... “Oh shit!” Another asteroid. He pushes the joystick back to the right and narrowly escapes. He’s still in shock. Taking it all in. The controls. The score. The two lives left. “Two lives left.” He says to himself. “What happens if I run out of lives?” He starts maneuvering the ship. He smiles to himself. “I got this!” He starts playing the game, like he did when he was a kid. Firing. Maneuvering. Getting away. Blowing up asteroids.

He is gaining his confidence as the asteroids start thinning out. One big one left. He fires, breaking it in two. Just then, a small flying saucer appears out to his right. It’s shooting at him. “Damn it!” He yells out. “I forgot about that little bastard.” Boom! It’s dark. He’s floating in space again, unable to breath. Then it all goes black.

He awakens back in the cockpit. He looks at his score. He doesn’t care about the number of points he has. “One more life.” He whispers to himself. There are two, medium sized asteroids left. Now, Glen has a plan. He fires on one of the two remaining. It breaks into two small, but very fast asteroid. He presses the thrust button and turns the ship to the to the left. He takes his finger off the thrust button and lets the ship float up and behind the two small, fast rocks. The he taps the thrust button to move behind the quickly moving pieces. Hi fires on them. First the one on the right. Then quickly to the one on the left, blowing them into nothingness. One more medium one to go. Then, that damn flying saucer. It’s first shot narrowly missing his ship. “I got you this time!” He says, as he shoots the saucer, breaking it up into little white pieces. Glen turns his attention back to the medium asteroid. He follows it at a safe distance and presses the fire button. He watches the two speeding rocks as the break away in opposite directions. He spins the ship to the left and hits the closed one. Then the other one. “Ha!” He shouts and pumps his fist in the air! The cockpit window glows brightly with the flashing words YOU WIN! Then it all goes black again.

Glen emerges from the blackness. He looks around. He’s still not back to his living room. “This is the craziest dream ever! It has to be a dream.” He hears a faint sound. He suddenly doesn’t feel like he has any time to contemplate his state of consciousness. He looks around. Now he’s in another type of vehicle. This time he has just a joystick, with the left and right, and a fire button. All of a sudden, the vehicle rolls back. He can feel his weight this time, and gravity sinks him back against the chair. He is now on his back, with his legs up over the base of his seat. He stares out of the windshield at what appears to be a brick ceiling. He hears a familiar sound. A sound he knows from his childhood. Doot. Doot. Doot. Doot. He looks out of his left side window. The vehicle he’s in, is on a track. There are other brick bunkers seemingly floating in mid air, maybe a dozen feet away. Between the bunkers there’s a glow of colored light. He looks to the right. More of the same. Then a flash. The familiar sound keeps going. Glen uses the joystick to move his vehicle to the right and peers out beyond the brick bunker. Aliens! “Space Invaders!” he shouts, as he maneuvers back to safety, under the bunker. “Okay. Let’s go!”

Now that Glen understands where he is and what needs to be done, he collects his thoughts. He starts thinking about how he used to play this game with his father, so many years ago. It was fun, he thought. He remembered how basic this game was. Left, right, shoot. His dad loved showing Glen all of the old games that he had grown up with in the 80′s. It brought a smile to Glen’s face as he reminisced about those times with dad. Alright, focus! He thought. Strategy. After a shot comes down next to the bunker, move out quickly and see where the aliens are. They speed up, when their numbers dwindle. The only safe place, is under a bunker. He took a deep breath. He was ready.

Just as Glen is ready, a light suddenly shines down through the bunker. “Damn!” He shouts! His bunker has already taken several hits and now has a hole right above his tank. “These things don’t las long.” He says to himself. He sees a shot come down, just to the right of his bunker. “Let’s go!” He maneuvers his tank out from under the bunker. He sees the rows of aliens moving in unison to his right as he brings his tank to rest under the next bunker. He has gauged the distance and speed of his enemy. He looks at his score out of habit. You haven’t shot anything yet, he thinks to himself as he sees the big zero. Another shot comes down. This time it was to his left. He pulls out, to the left and fires. A direct hit! The alien explodes with a thunder! He fires again. Another direct hit! Glen moves back under the bunker and rolls out the other side, where he fires again on his way to the next bunker at his far right.

I remember this. This is a good spot. At the far right and left of his track, the aliens stop and go back the other way. This is a good tactical vantage point. He thinks to himself. He can take out several aliens in a short amount of time from the sides. And he does just that. He blasts away! Knowing that he can’t fire his cannon quickly unless he hit one of them, he’s careful with his shot selections. “Thanks dad!” He said softly as he hit his targets and watched the number of enemies shrink.

The attackers were coming down faster and faster. Now that there are just a few of them left. Several times Glen has narrowly escaped their random bombings. His safety bunkers have been blown away. The remains of the center bunker is all that’s left to protect him. And that doesn’t even cover his whole tank. “Yes!” He shouted! With the thunderous boom of another alien gone. Now there are only two and they’re speeding across the electronic sky. Zooming to the right, then back to the left. Every time they get to one side or the other they move down. Closer to Glen and his tank. Another lap completed and down. Now it’s a race to the finish. Glen has to keep up with them to get a good shot, while avoiding their bombs.

Boom! One more to go. This little bastard is flying now! It’s sailing across! Determined to take out the man in the tank! It quickly finished another lap to the left, where it moved down and is now heading back in the other direction. Glen’s tank is way slower. As the bombs rain down, Glen knows he has to make his next shot. He won’t get another chance. The alien is so close. Two more laps and it will kamikaze Glen into pieces. One more lap. Here it comes. It’s gotta be a good one! It’s just a split second away from being right above Glen, when he slams his fire button! Boom! Brilliant light and pieces flying everywhere. For a moment, Glen’s not sure if his tank blew up, or if he won. The light fades and Glen is still there. Player One! Winner! Flashes across his windshield. Glen feels his body finally relax, as he exhales a deep breath he didn’t knowingly take. The light around him starts to fade. “I want to go home!” He shouts as the blackness closes in.

Glen emerges from the dark to find himself, in what appeared to be a car. “It’s freakin bright in here!” He mumbles to himself, squinting his eyes. He looks around at his new surroundings. Joystick. Nothing else. Just a joystick. The coverings over his window slide back revealing his new game. He sees a line of yellow dots in front of him. Then the music starts and his windshield flashes with the words, Get Ready!

Saint Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland, right? That’s the story everyone knows. Well, I have a different story about old Saint P. This, as I heard it from my grandfather and he from his and so on, is what happened after that. The Celts, as you may know, have a history of telling stories of fairies and wee folk. These stories go back thousands of years. Mostly, they’ve been chalked up to folklore and legend, you know, stories for children. That’s all they are now, to some. But, the reality is… Fairies and wee folk, do exist. Not in the same numbers they had long ago, but they’re still here. They hide among us. They hide real good.

Well, back in St. Patrick’s time, when he was fighting the good fight for all Catholics. He was quite a man! A man of God! He had great faith in the lord above, and with that faith in the all-mighty, he had great confidence in himself. When you believe God’s got your back, you can become fearless. And that’s what happened. The fearless St. Patrick was battling the witches, the demons, and the leprechauns. Oh, don’t laugh. The leprechauns were the worst of the bunch. They were the most dangerous of the wee folk and fairies.

In fact, the oldest version of the history of the “chauns”, as I refer to them, claims they were the offspring of the fairy women and demons. Male demons courted the fairy ladies relentlessly. They were so beautiful to the demons that they were helplessly drawn to them. The demon males swore they would change their ways. They swore to the fairy women that they would be faithful, loving husbands. After time, some fairies gave in. They married their demon suiters in secret, forbidden marriages. Then, they had children. These so called children, are what we now call leprechauns. The first was named MacFearg. He was the son of Fearg the demon, and Solas his fairy mother. More leprechauns were born soon after, and the families hid in the deepest parts of the Celtic forests. Hiden from God and man.

These miserable, misfit little creatures had one special power. Unlike their magical parents, the only gift these little terrors had, was a momentary invisibility. It only lasted around a minute on average. Some could stay invisible a little longer. But mostly, it was just long enough for them to escape trouble. Oh, yeah. They did have one other special power, if you could call it that. Longevity. It’s not really know how long they can live. It’s said that they can be killed, but they heal quickly. So, it’s pretty hard to kill one.

An abomination to God, is what they were considered. The parents tried to hide them, deep in the forests of Ireland. But, it was just a matter of time. The little brats, never listened to their mother fairies or their father demons. They ran through the forests and eventually stumbled upon human villages. They watched the humans from afar. They were jealous of how the humans lived. All out in open, like they had nothing to fear. They would curse at them and mock them from the shadows of the trees. Then, they caught their first glimpse of, what would turn out to be their obsession. Gold.

Humans, lived with their happy little families had bright shiny trinkets of gold. The leprechauns saw the villagers trade with gold coins. They saw them give golden jewelry to their loved-ones. Gold is precious, they understood. And, gold should belong to them. And so it began, these delinquent little monsters began sneaking in to people’s homes to steal their gold. Eventually, they all grew to understand gold belongs to the leprechauns, not humans. And, any human in possession of gold, should be relieved of it as soon as possible.

People back then, were at first unaware of the existence of leprechauns. Sometimes, one might catch a glimpse of a weird, little man running through the forest. But, they would quickly disappear behind a tree or a bush, before a better look could be had. Anyone that gave chase, would find themselves on a fruitless adventure and eventually give up. It was much worse if they didn’t give up. Many would end up hopelessly lost. Perhaps being found years later as a skeleton, sitting up against a tree. On it went for quite some time. Maybe a thousand years or more, this cat and mouse game went on. In all of the turmoil of the years before St. Patrick, the little thieves weren’t garnering any attention. The occasional missing gold was blamed on everything from wood nymphs, to demons or even lost to the ravages of war with other clans. Until one was finally captured when he tried to steal a golden plaque from a church. Of course, this didn’t sit well with the clergy.

It had been almost a year since St. Patrick cast the snakes out of Ireland, and now the clergy had a new crusade. To rid Ireland of these thieving little, abominations. And, who do you think they called upon? That’s right, St. Patrick. Fresh off of his victory over the snakes, he was indeed, the obvious choice. Just a few weeks after the capture of the first leprechaun, St. Patrick was on the hunt.

It didn’t take long for the cunning St. Patrick to round up a eight little leprechauns. He captured them in various traps he set throughout the forests. He also, unwittingly captured some of the other ancient nature spirits. Most of them were peace-loving and gentle spirits that had no interactions with humans. Some of the spirits that escaped Patrick’s clutches, spread the word amongst all of the fairies and demons. They had to stop St. Patrick before he gathered them all up and cast all of them out of Ireland. This was their home too, after all. The fairies and woodland deities had every right to live there, just as the humans did. All of them existed long before the humans. It was by their love and support that humans, the weakest beings in the land, were actually able to survive.

Fairies and demons, were joined by the wood nymphs and the other nature spirits. They met on a large flat hill-top overlooking the oceans. The throngs of magical creatures joined hands, and hooves in some instances, and summoned the angels. With all of this magic flooding the skies, several angels appeared above the hill. The ancient ones told the angels of the their plight. They begged the angels to ask their God to give audience to their story. The pleading fell upon deaf ears.

Angels, at that time were, had some jealousy issues. Their God seemed preoccupied with human beings and so the angels, for the most part, left the humans alone. Whatever would happen to the humans wasn’t any concern of the angels. Only when God directed them to, would they intervene in lives of men. So, Saint P. Continued his mission. Supported by God, who had just recently discovered the existence of leprechauns. Angered by the fact that the fairies and demons were hiding and lying about what they had done, God may have even helped St. Patrick in a few situations.

This angered the demons even more. The fairies were diminutive and passive. Though saddened by what was happening to their children, locking them away in cages like animals, it wasn’t in their nature to be dark and angry. So they did the only thing they could. They hid themselves away, in their sadness. The demons on the other hand, had been mean, warring creatures before they met and fell in love with the fairies. The demons, who had been somewhat tame for millennia before all of this, began striking back against man and God. Wars raged between men, instigated by demons. The idea being, to keep men and God busy in order to keep the leprechauns free.

But, while the rest of Europe was engaged in fighting, Ireland remained relatively quiet. Saint Patrick was on a pace to capture all of the chauns by the year’s end. Riding through Ireland in the name of God, he preached by day to the masses. He converted many of the Irish to his faith, by promises of a forgiving God. Drinking and fighting was okay, if you believed and gave penance. That was the understanding of the Irish, who began to embrace this new religion as being tailor made, just for them. St. Patrick, preacher by day, hunter by night. His followers became many. And he, himself, became a respected figure of the church.

He rounded up the mischievous little buggers and kept them in small cages that he traveled with. The chauns were clever though. Once captured, they did not stop talking. They told St. P. That he had won and they would give up their gold to he who had bested them. At first Patrick let the little thieves know he had no use for gold. His quest was spiritual. He was enlightened and guided by doing God’s will. But, the little con-artists were relentless with their words. Finally, they struck the right nerve. They managed to convince St. Patrick that the gold would please God and one of them produced a small golden cross, that glistened in the eyes of St. Patrick. St. Patrick, after seeing the beautiful golden cross. Began making deals with his captives.

One by one, each chaun would lead Patrick to their hidden stash of gold. Each of them had a pot, similar to that of a witches cauldron, filled with gold. Believing that it would please God, Patrick collected all of their gold. He built a large mold, in the shape of a cross. When finished, the cross would stand Twenty feet tall and five feet wide. As part of the deal, the leprechauns would help Saint Patrick build the cross. They toiled over the enormous mold, readying it for the pouring of the melted metal. They had pulleys attached and ready to bring the symbol upright, behind the alter of the simple church. It would just fit under the cathedral ceiling. They poured the hot gold into the shape. It flooded through the cross quickly, filling the mold at every end spilling over just a little. All eyes stared at the magnificent creation. Patrick saw a wonderful gift he could offer to God. The chauns saw a beautiful monument to gold.

It cooled and hardened. After an entire day of waiting, it was ready. Saint Patrick and his helpers, who he believed were converted to serve the same God, began to hoist the cross up. Still inside the protective molding, it raised slowly onto it’s end. Incredibly heavy and unmovable for a man, it wasn’t too much for the leprechauns’ strength. Soon, they had the giant cross standing upright behind the alter of the church. They stood in awe of the towering cross, still encased in the molding.

The eldest of the leprechauns then spoke to Saint Patrick. He told him, that if the cross should break under Saint Patrick’s care, the deal they had struck would end. He continued to tell Saint P. that the leprechauns had fulfilled their end of the bargain. They would serve the church from now until the cross came down. St. Patrick listened to the old leprechaun. At the end of his statement, Patrick agreed. Yes, the chauns had fulfilled the agreement. The church has this incredible symbol of God’s love. The golden cross would certainly last for generations. He thanked the Feargmac. And the leprechauns went on their way.

There was a ceremony planned for the opening of the new church and to unveil the cross, in the coming weeks. The finishing touches were place on the church. Finally, the day had come. Followers came from all around to celebrate the opening of the new church. Rumors had spread of the large cross, but no-one knew of what it was made. That would be a surprise.

Everyone was there. Patrick stood at the front of his congregation. He spoke a few words. He gave his thanks to God. Then, he signaled for his helpers, wearing extra small sized robes, to come up and take their positions around the cross. Patrick said to all attending, this is our gift to you God. Then, the covering came down, revealing the cross with the wooden planks surrounding it. The crowd was cheered this monument to the lord. The next orders were given and the little monks began to remove the outer molding to reveal the gold. The towering cross was made of solid gold, much to the surprise and delight of the congregation.

The brilliant cross glimmered in the sunlight streaming in from all of the windows. Patrick didn’t even notice when Feargmac had come up to the pulpit and stood next to him. Drool dripped from one corner of his mouth. His palms itched with anticipation. Patrick turned his attention back to the crowd and began the day’s sermon, which would be about being humble and gracious.

Then it happened, as if on cue. The cross started to sway. The right cross arm seemed to flex slightly and bent downward. A murmur came from the audience. Patrick turned just in time to see the fracture creep through the left arm. All at once, both arms dropped off of the cross. Women screamed and tears flowed. Men shouted from the back to run! And those closest to it, ran for their lives, in all directions. The arms crashed down to the wooden floor, smashing everything in their path. Everyone ran screaming! The center piece of the cross suddenly leaned forward. More fractures appeared and it crumbled to the floor below. Dust and debris went flying. While everyone else was running away, some smaller figures ran towards the devastation. Like legions ants on fallen piece of food, the chauns tore apart all of the gold and fled.

This, of course, would ignite a new battle between Patrick and the chauns. Patrick immediately realized the design flaw of the cross and felt ashamed. He had allowed himself to be tricked. They would regret this, he pledged to God. But first, he would build a new cross for the church. This time, understanding the distribution of weight, he made larger cross out of stone. Stone that was carved with pictures to tell stories from the bible. And this time, there would be curved supports holding up the arms of the giant cross. This is how Patrick created the Celtic Cross that would soon adorn the countryside of Ireland.

Once finished, Patrick recruited new volunteers to help him capture the little menaces. This time, the chauns were wise to the traps that Patrick had previously laid. It was more difficult to catch the chauns, but with help, he was able to catch a few. One day, tragedy struck. Patrick never intended to hurt the leprechauns. His goal was to lock them up, just to keep them from stealing gold. And to keep the people safe from trekking out into the woods and becoming lost. But it happened. A leprechaun was killed. He fell off of a cliff while being chased by St. P.

It was an accident, but that didn’t matter to the demon father of the deceased. Nearly a decade of war and famine hit Ireland. Skies were black with smoke and ash. God intervened when he saw what was happening. Men weren’t just fighting men, as God had thought was happening. The fighting was instigated by, and prolonged by a demon. The demon Dioltas. The father of the fallen leprechaun. This was not acceptable. Angels were sent by God to arrange a meeting.

Ten years to the day since Saint Patrick drove out the snakes, they met. St. Patrick, the demon Dioltas, Feargmac, and God met on a windswept cliff. Fairies and nymphs clamored behind the demon and Feargmac. Angels came together behind Patrick and God. God had not taken a form. There was a haze, almost like a very large cloud, next to Patrick. The meeting started with the thundering accusation that Patrick killed the son of the demon Dioltas. Patrick quickly countered with the insistence that it had been an accident. A fury erupted when Patrick, though remorseful, compared the death of Dioltasmac the leprechaun, to the many deaths of men and children that had chased after leprechauns over the years. Is it not the same? Patrick questioned. Men chase leprechauns into the woods, they become lost and starve or receive injury that leads directly to their deaths.

Dioltas, rejects this absurd claim, with the assertion that men have free will. No humans have ever been injured or killed by one of ours.

And no leprechauns have ever been killed by human hands. Was Patrick’s rebuttal. The argument continued, from the afternoon until nightfall and deep into the night. The fairies and angels glowed in the moonlight, keeping the hilltop well lit. Each side had made their points. They were listened to and weighed against each other. Finally, a decision was made that would be accepted by all.

Leprechauns will remain free to do as they want. Their numbers are not nearly what the number of humans are. For this reason, they will be left alone. Leprechauns will in turn, not harm humans. Directly or indirectly. And, in the event that a human becomes imperiled in the pursuit of a leprechaun, said leprechaun must assist the human to safety. If any humans can find the end of the rainbow, signifying a leprechaun’s stash, the gold shall be theirs. But only if they can retain the gold for twenty-four hours after finding it. Both parties are allowed to use any means possible to protect and assail one-another. Any means possible! And, if a human should capture a leprechaun, at any time, the leprechaun may grant up to three wishes to regain their freedom.

So, there you have it. That’s the legend of the chauns.