There weren’t many famous leprechauns, but Simon was one of them. He was, on Christmas Eve, hanging out with his friend Lucky (another famous leprechaun). Every Christmas Eve, Lucky and Simon would eat, drink, and get into the festive spirit. Rescuing Christmas was Simon’s job, and he pulled it off flawlessly every year. Everyone forgets how pivotal Simon is to the Christmas process – maybe it is because he is seldom talked about. Alison, his mum, even forgets to get him a gift on his birthday. So Simon hangs out with the only friend he has who sometimes remembers him, Lucky. Only this time, their hang was different. Never before had lucky been so handsy- he was touching Simon a lot more than was usual.
“Why are you being so touchy?”
“All I’m doing is trying to show my friend some affection.”
Simon felt uncomfortable, so he decided to drive home as he needed to prepare for Santa’s arrival. To his surprise, his car would not work- did somebody mess with his engine?
Only a series of well thought out contemporary dance moves would save him from his current handsy predicament. He pranced and danced and jumped and jived. Immediately, Harriet the contemporary dance fairy appeared in front of him.
“Do you have a wish for me, young leprechaun?”
“Engineering knowledge of the motoring kind would be appreciated, my car doesn’t seem to work.”
Harriet did a small, contemporary dance number that Simon was sure would have been impressive if he understood its underlying message a little more.
“IGGIDY BIGGIDY BOOP!”
Simons car still did not start. Realisation hit that Harriet’s contemporary magical dancing powers were not working, and there was now a very solid chance Simon would not be at his house in time for Santa’s arrival. Everybody knows (but it is easily forgotten and seldom talked about) that Simon is needed on Santa’s Sleigh or the Christmas presents will not be delivered. Awkwardly Harriet exited the scene, and all seemed lost.
Luckily, Simon was at Lucky’s house and his residence was known to be the luckiest place on earth. It so happened that another magical deity appeared before Simon- Loki, the trickster god of the Norse.
“Do you need a hand?”
Enthusiastically, Simon nodded.
Now Loki well knew what the problem with Simon’s car was, but he’s a tricky little guy, the trickiest in fact.
“The problem is your engine’s fried.”
It was a surprisingly unlucky thing that was happening at Lucky’s house, Simon thought to himself.
“Tell me, what should I do?”
“You can use my car, it’s fast and it will get you to your house in time for Santa to pick you up.”
Fantastic news this was to Simon. Rolling around in Loki’s Rolls Royce didn’t seem like a bad option.
“Only thing is, if you’re going to use my Rolls Royce, I’m going to use your car to drive around in after I fix it.”
Mysterious was the way that Loki said it, but Simon didn’t have a problem with that. Perfect. Everyone was in agreement. Only a moment ago Simon was making wishes to dance gods, and now he was about to drive in a real Rolls Royce. Possibly the luckiest turn of events that could have eventuated. Lucky Simon. Ecstatically, he jumped into Loki’s car, but as soon as he closed the door behind him he was immediately teleported somewhere else!
“Where am I?”
He looked around and noticed that he was surrounded by thick, unforgiving jungle. Obviously he was far away from his home.
“Will I ever get home for Christmas?”
Everyone knows that Loki is a trickster, and boy, did Simon get tricked good. Relief swept over him as he remembered he still had the Rolls Royce. Even though there was no way that it would be driving anywhere through this jungle thicket, he still felt hopeful having a piece of civilisation close by. Lifting his head, he ventured forth into the jungle. Over vines. Over roots. Keeping a look out for dangerous jungle hazards like panthers and tribal hunters with poison darts. It might have been a lost cause, but it was better than doing nothing. Next to him he saw a little hut- maybe there would be someone he could get directions from. Gas was leaking out the top of the hut, but it was a very pleasant smelling gas. Totiki, the magical tribal woman, appeared from inside the hut.
“Oroboros alorobos!” Unsurprisingly she didn’t speak English.
“Santa needs me, can you help in any way?”
Every chance of saving Christmas was reliant on what Totiki did next. Totiki smoked from her magical smoking pipe, she laughed and did a handstand. Hope was lost and Simon sat down, put his head in his hands and wept.
“Is helping to Santa really what you want to do?” She spoke some English after all, it seemed.
“I need to or Christmas will be ruined, Santa needs me to help him deliver all the presents.”
“Not this Christmas, is that your job.”
Frustratingly, she sometimes talked backwards like Yoda. Orangutans howled from the trees as Simon faced this new truth. Ruining Christmas was not something he wanted any part of. Maybe there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. And maybe this was meant to be, or predetermined in some way.
“That trickster god really got me good.”
Isolation was the only thing Simon could feel right now, but he was determined not to give up. Out of her mouth he snatched the magical smoking pipe. Next minute he was running through the jungle. All he could hear now were her angry cries coming from the hut. Gripping the pipe firmly between his fingers, he took a puff and wished with all his might that he would be back home and ready for Santa to visit. A swirl of smoke surrounded him, and whisked him up in the air and away.
“I’m flying, I’m flying home!”
Nothing besides smoke could be seen, all he knew was that he was travelling speedily through the air. Slowly, he began to decelerate and descend, his magical journey was coming to an end.
Touching his feet on the ground, the smoke cleared away and he realised he had arrived back at the hut with Totiki. Her beady little eyes watched him as she cackled out loud.
“I’m never getting home for Christmas.”
Maybe he never would.