ASMSG Scifi Fantasy Paranormal Emagazine March 2014 | Page 30

“It’ll take me ages to get this oil out of my plumage,” he said.
“Anyway, here’s the plan. We barter with the leprechauns. A
bucketful of oil for a kilo of gold.” He tapped a wing tip against
Elfis’s temple, leaving a snail trail of oil. “And pretty soon, my
boy, we’ll be rich.”
Elfis gave him a sideways glance. “We?”
Carson lifted his wings in a shrug. “Surely you’re going to give
me a cut of the profits.” He cocked his head and winked. “Say,
forty per cent.”
Elfis gasped. “What? You must be off your rocker. It’s my oil.”
“True. It’s your oil. But you know those silver-tongued
leprechauns. They’ll have it for free if you’re not
careful. They’ve been doing shady dealings for thousands of
years. And you?”
Elfis couldn’t recall ever doing a shady deal in all his twenty
years. He was brought up honest.

“What you screaming for, you big sissy?” he said, picking up the
soap.
Carson’s beak clattered. “It, it, it’s freezing,” he said in a hoarse
voice.
Elfis grinned. “I know.”
He dunked Carson and rubbed the soap into his plumage,
shaking him violently to rinse off the excess soap.
Carson spluttered, cursed and cawed his lungs out even louder
than before.
The water turned black. Elfis emptied the basin and refilled it,
repeating the process of rubbing soap, shaking and rinsing.
Carson continued to complain and struggle.

“Never,” he replied.

After the fourth basin of water had been emptied, Elfis lif Y