View Full Version : 'rock The Cobbler

03-20-17, 07:12 PM
The slogan, 'Real. Comfortable. Shoes.' would be too derivative. So, the Leprechaun sat, considering, frustrated , trying to come up with something original.

He spun the office chair, whistling a tune.

The family trade had died out on the auld sod. And so, heartbroken, weeping, the centuries-old shoemaker, harnessing the powers of ancient magic and modern electronics, had effectively e-mailed himself to America. His e-mail pal, a college sophomore, who was capitalizing on his precious opportunity for an education by mixing dangerous, expensive street drugs with alcohol, had laughed when he came through the screen, and went and laid down in the apartment's ornate bathtub.

Shamrock Dell, as he was known in this new land, felt peckish, and considered a bowl of Lucky cereal. He thought better of it. Too high an iron content. Great for growing kiddos, problematic for little Leprechauns...

03-24-17, 01:35 PM

He'd found a brilliant slogan.

'Shoes, done right, like we've dunnum since the days of Slaine...made with modern materials and sold oer the web... Isn't it a PERFECT FIT ALTOGETHER!'

As he clicked 'save' and hopped onto the shiny hardwood floor of his room, though, he had to admit, things had NOT fit perfectly since he'd come to Dixie, Ohio. First, there was the matter of his flatmate and business partner, J.J. The kind lad had a head for business and was a great roomie, but he was, in the terms of this time and place, a self-medicator. To be a good example to the boy, he'd sworn off drink for the time being. J.J also had some strains of the hunter-gatherer, and needed help staying on track. 'Didja remember that appointment, now, Joseph?' He asked J.J. who was spread over the recliner- inverse- to clear his thoughts and for want of something to do. 'Tomorrow, noon, Newstart.' The lep grumphed, regarded his small form in the living-room mirror and grabbed his jacket.

***AUTHOR'S NOTE*** I do not necessarily subscribe to the hunter-gatherer theory of A.D.H.D. Why, Rock might speculate, perhaps A.D.H.D came from the wee people!

03-30-17, 04:01 PM
He was not bad-looking, either by human standard's, or his people's. Smooth, pale skin with a bit of weathering , questing blue- gray eyes, black hair... the inevitable gnarl to his features could be attributed to dwarfism in a human. His mother would lament of his quirky ,restless nature, 'Nuthin will keep ya, not the shoe-shop, not the motherland... pity the chaun who marries you!...' Ah, Moder...' He grabbed his bike upended near the door, small, custom made by a north coast redneck whose talk tea, and dogs he enjoyed, and stepped out the door, then pausing, 'The litterbox?' 'Got it.'

06-07-17, 07:13 PM
Rock carefully assessed his target. He'd kicked a rock, scuffing his shoe, when the dorms were built. He'd hidden his treasure in an abandoned lot 'near the gombeen UNIVERSITY!' In the days following his arrival in the new land, his priorities had been 1, convince his new friend and roommate that he'd come 'on one o yer AIRAplanes , and didn't I have the jet lag!' and that J.J. had been suffering chemically induced hallucinations when he's seen Rock emerge from his compy screen. 2. Hide his gold.

06-07-17, 07:34 PM
Even Rock, with his wandering ways and exasperation with the 'ways o' auld' kept a 'crock' of gold. the massive stone vessel held the treasure of millenia.

The wind blew his hair as he cruised down Hannibal Avenue. POP. As he rode, his back tire rolled over some glass, or a twig. They'd been reinforced, pumped full of sealant, by Will, his friend and the clever bike mechanic who'd built the small black mountain bike, mostly out of Roadmaster parts. He was sure it was glass or wood popping, not his tires.

Dixie , he reflected was becoming a college town. He altered his course, shifting his gears as he headed toward campus. There were classes he was looking into, and they had a brilliant burger joint...

07-10-17, 08:01 PM
HERE WE GO AGAIN. J.J. sat in the Newstart therapist's office and waited. 'So how are you feeeeling J.J.'? John Jacinto Hannity spoke the anticipated question out loud. J.J. never knew how to answer that one. He had a good handle on his emotions, and whether he happened to feel happy, bummed out, mad, or hyper, he'd answered past professionals truthfully. Even when he'd felt 'nuthin' which was an emotion too. And it always led to several hours of interrogation and grueling tests.

He wondered what this shrink would be like. Another humorless, twitchy...

The door opened. In walked a lady, in jeans and a casual, if frilly, shirt, mid 30s. She lifted a Steelers cap from her head, to reveal not-perfectly-combed honey-blond hair. She took a worn book, and two water bottles from a bag, which was blue, with a Navajo motif. She handed one to John, took a quick gulp from hers, and sat down. John felt his eyes widen. 'Hi, John. I'm Kat. You've been dealing with some crap, and maybe I can help you. So. Wassup?' John felt himself...relaxing?...smiling?!'

07-10-17, 08:14 PM
'I've been getting in trouble, bein a... anyway, my roomie said I should come here. He's um, vertically challenged.' Kat's smile dazzled.she cocked her head and intoned 'A mountain dwarf, perhaps?'

'Actually, I think he's a leprechaun!' The pair laughed, exchanged high-fives, and gradually, at some point, he perceived it was time to begin. 'I don't know why I've been such a...' ' John, how did you hurt your knuckles?' 'I hit something.'

07-25-17, 06:50 PM
Rock locked his little bike with a plastic-wrapped chain, and gamboled toward Finnegan Hall. A few of the other, larger folk held back mostly good-natured laughter. 'Hey, it's the dude from that Crowns show!' 'Shut up!' a girl remonstrated. 'He is going to HEAR you!'

08-01-17, 03:56 PM
Rock stopped at the information office, where he was given a glossy on the class he wanted, and told that the admissions counselor was out to lunch.

'About time I checked on my assets' he thought. But first...

It was the day before the start of fall semester, so the line at Gorrillaburger wasn't too long, indeed, orders were coming up chop-chop. He hung out in the pick-up line, and looked at some of the new faces.

08-15-17, 02:02 PM
Just ahead of him was a kid, tall for her age. She tapped her chin, looking the menu up and down... "if you're lookin' for a Funny Monkey kid's meal, I don't think they serve them at this loca-' She turned 'Actually, I think I'm getting the grilled pepper chicken.' She was easily 20 years old, sand colored skin, black hair, dancing, playful dark eyes. soft black cotton shirt, black jeans shorts. A trace of accent, Mexican, faded over years spent in America. Her order came up, and he placed his. He glanced over at the soda machine watched her pour diet cola into a large cup. She was just taller than him. She wandered off. Rock chose Mista Flava and turned. 'Well..hello again!...' he stammered. She smiled, flashing china-white teeth.

'Sittin' with anyone?', she asked.

08-23-17, 06:05 PM
Rock set his tray on the jungle-green table , hopped into the chair, as his companion sidled gracefully into hers.

'Rock.' 'Hop!'

Rock sidled a fry and looked across the table. 'I hopped a lot as a kid', she laughed.

08-31-17, 07:49 PM
Rock checked his watch quickly, noon on the button, thirty minutes til the workers at the new campus bookstore went on lunch break. Squire Books had acquired the rights to sell textbooks and Dixie College Rumblers gear, as well as a fraction of their usual book selection, at the corner of Hannibal and Pritchett-right over the abandoned lot where he'd hid his 'crock'. They were hurriedly cleaning up the remaining dust before the grand opening tomorrow, and he'd need to move his gold.

09-19-17, 07:07 PM
...are bad for you, you know.' Rock's conciousness returned to the present. 'Yah?'
'French fries,' She said, and Rock's gaze sojourned to a textbook marked with a sticker that read 'Tora'. 'To-Hop, there's positively NO WAY fried potatoes (he was conscious of the way he pronounced it pa-tay-tas) could be bad for you! And stuffed some fries to emphasize.

12-07-17, 08:10 PM
'But you guys really like potatoes, right? Sorry. Stereotype' Rock leaned back. She was perceptive. HE had a thousand questions-why are you so small in stature, where are you from and how did you wind up here, who ARE you? What's your story? He looked up from his Jungle Double. Her eyes were locked on his. 'My name's Toyon.'

02-26-18, 03:49 PM
He was aware his Irish eyes were smilin'.