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A Frosty Reception

With minimal enthusiasm, Heather bids you reŽntry but says very little. Exhilarated from your night on the prowl, you long to return outside, even though the weather is dismal. Following a brisk shower, you don comfortable clothes and return to the courtyard. One of the dogs quickly finds you, and you play a lengthy game of fetch, occasionally racing one another for the stick. Afterward, you laugh about this, but Heather fails to see anything funny about it.

Although genuinely human from head to toe, your altered perspective results in your performing certain tasks in a most unusual way, as though instinctively. Even your baggiest garments feel constrictive, as do the fundamentals of mealtime etiquette. That evening, you absent-mindedly lap your soup up from the rim of the bowl, to the absolute horror of Heather. Only when an elderly gentleman hands you a spoon do you become aware of your faux pas. You thank him and quickly adjust your approach.

Later, as Heather quietly sits reading and sulking, you stare longingly out the window, yearning for another night like the last. Suddenly, it strikes you that you used only one of your three wishes! Technicalities aside, however, you have no idea where to find either leprechaun again. Do you cross your fingers and return to the castle, perhaps?

Written by Joey Liverwurst

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