Saturday's Storyteller: "It's St. Paddy's Day. Shaddup."

by Belinda Roddie

"It's St. Paddy's Day. Shaddup."


"I didn't say anything, John."

"Just shaddup."

"What're you drinking?"

"Smithwick's."

"...It's pronounced 'Smitticks.'"

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"It clearly reads 'Smithwick's.'"

"But it's still pronounced 'Smitticks.'"

"Smithwick's."

"Smitticks."

"Smithwicks."

"Smitticks."

"You know, this relationship isn't going to work if we can't agree on this, Aaron."


"What relationship? What the Hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about leprechauns, dude! Pots of gold. Rainbows. Good luck."

"...That was absolutely not what you were talking about."

"I am now."

"But you weren't earlier."

"Good God, Aaron, do you always have to argue?"

"Do you always have to drink in the middle of the bedroom? In a T-shirt and boxers, no less?"

"...It's warm in here."

"It's thirty-seven fucking degrees outside!"

"I'm a fighter, Aaron. This is what I do."

"Maybe I should look for a new roommate..."

"Don't say that. You love me, don't you?"

"John."

"Say you love me!"

"No."

"Say you love me!"

"Póg mo thóin, John."

"...Ha! See? You've got some Irish blood in you!"

"I read it on a souvenir mug in Dublin, dude."

"Yeah, yeah. You love me and you know it."

"Ho, boy. Happy St. Patrick's Day to you, then. I'm going to lie down."

"...Hey!"

"What?"

"You still want your ass kissed?"

"Shut up, John!"

"You love me and you know it!"

This week's prompt was provided by Jocelyn Roddie. Happy St. Patrick's Day.