Lady Whistleblower Dearest Gentle Reader,
While the advent of St. Patrick’s Day is often celebrated amongst green beer-swilling Irish fanatics, our Queen has been forced to focus her attention on her current predicament.
As most of you know, our Queen has been facing much public scrutiny and derision, mostly relating to her undying support of the current King. In order to rescue her good-works public persona, she knew that she needed a positive PR event of epic proportions. Her cunning plan? To unravel the secrets behind a family mystery leading to riches beyond the dreams of avarice. For certainly becoming the financial savior of the Kingdom should be enough to repair her ragged reputation and reinstate her unrestricted royal reign, right? And so it was with these thoughts in mind, that our Queen set forth.
Now for those of you who didn’t know, the Queen has always been quite proud of her Irish heritage – in fact, she has revelled in it – and with good reason too! The Queen’s lineage and family secret is that they are one of the Irish families that are part of the mythic Bogha-Froise Clan (BFC). In order to be admitted to the BFC, a family must be a keeper of a taisge (treasure) rainbow which explains why being a BFC member is so incredibly rare!
The family legend was threefold (of course it was)! Her first challenge – find the rainbow (or was that taste the rainbow?) The second challenge was to navigate the Rainbow Road. And the third challenge was to find and collect the treasure.
In any case, the Queen set great store in her innate ability of just being Irish, and so it was with this misplaced confidence that she set out in search of her family’s treasure rainbow. And now, dearest reader, the Queen hits her first roadblock. Where will she actually find this rainbow? For as of late, rainbows seem to be scarser. But the Queen wasn’t going to allow this to deter her!
At first, the Queen was pretty sure she was going to find everything she needed on Rainbow Lake Road. After the Queen travelled and searched the whole length of the road multiple times with nary a hint of a rainbow, she finally determined that this was not the road for her.
Then the Queen recalled a distant memory of a legendary (or was it merely notorious?) place filled with magical music called the Rainbow Inn. But when she went to where it used to be, all that was left had been filled with storage units and the driveway full of utility trucks. Another dead end.
The Queen wracked her brain for a solution to her problem. Where would she be able to access her family’s rainbow? She checked the weather forecast – but the rainbow outlook was low. It was then that she remembered seeing a rainbow in the spray of a garden hose – and immediately set about recreating that event. Finally, after much trial and tribulation, our Queen, now soaked to the bone, was able to create a small rainbow, and through the magics of her Irish heritage, used that rainbow to create a portal that gave her access to the fabled Rainbow Road.
So the task of the rainbow was complete, now the Queen had to navigate the grand RR. This was no easy task, as there were steep slopes, tight curves, wavy ground, and NO guardrails. She also had to navigate around Toads, strange mushrooms, and Koopas, but her stern countenance made these threats melt away, and before long, she completed the course, and soon the end goal was in sight – the fabled pot of gold that was her family’s rightful legacy.
At this point you must be thinking that the Queen’s troubles were nearing an end, after all, she had completed two of the legendary tasks set upon her, but in this, dear reader, you would be wrong. For the Queen did not realize that each treasure rainbow had its own security system, and before her stood the guardian, Larry the Leprechaun.
As the Queen marched up to Larry with all of the authoritarian swagger she could muster, Larry easily moved to block the Queen from reaching the Pot O’Gold. “Ah ye hoyden,” drawled Larry, in a heavily accented brogue, “what be yer name? For I must have it, ere the cash withdrawal records.” The Queen, irritated, dutifully gave her name to Larry.
“And what is the nature of yer quest?” intoned Larry. The Queen replied that she sought to buy back her reputation. Larry merely nodded at this and dutifully scribbled this next to the Queen’s name.
“It seems everything is in order, but I’ll be needing now the presentation of the passkey,” said Larry, “for that is the last requirement ere I can issue funds.” The Queen stood blank-faced before Larry. What passkey was he talking about? She knew of no passkey. So the Queen tried to brazen it out.
“I am the Queen,” said the Queen, obviously. “There is no need for additional requirements – I am completely the rightful owner of that,” she said pointing to the Pot O’Gold. “You must give it to me, for it is MINE.” When Larry didn’t immediately comply, the Queen repeated, “IT IS MINE!! GIVE IT TO ME!”
Larry’s countenance schooled itself into a hardened scowl. “Now there will be none of THAT, as I’m not caring who you think you be,” replied Larry. “If you don’t show me yer family’s sacred symbol, then yer not be getting one, single, solitary coin.”
It was at this moment that the Queen realized that she needed to present Larry with the family’s sacred icon and since the Queen no longer had access to the family’s sacred shamrock, she must, perforce, leave empty-handed, her plans in ruins.
And thus ends our tale for today, but I shall, dear reader, leave you with a little quote about the Irish:
It’s delightful how celebrating a heritage requires you to pick fights with strangers and then pee in public stables…
And with that, Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
Lady Whistleblower
