My name is Connor O'Sullivan and I am a mythical monster hunter.
Mythical monster hunting is a family business.
My great-great-grandfather, Mortimor O'Sullivan, started our company in 1881 in Glengarriff, Ireland. Apparently the local folk were being pestered by an unusually malevolent band of leprechauns and they hired my ancestor to hunt them down and destroy them.
Anyone who knows anything about mythical creatures would know that you can’t “destroy” a leprechaun. But you can reason with them and barter with them.
Mortimor tracked the trooping fairies for several weeks until he discovered their lair beneath the ruins of Reendisert Castle, on the road to Bantry. When he questioned their leader as to why they were spoiling his neighbors’ milk and spooking their horses and cattle, the little sprite answered that their misdeeds were all an act of revenge!
Seamus, the chief of the band, further explained that one night, while his little group was traipsing through the heather in the townland of Derryconnery, Mrs. Crowley blindly flung her boiling laundry water out into the bushes next to her home. Seamus and his followers were all drenched and scalded. From that night on the leprechauns declared war on all of the families in the area.
Mortimor beseeched the angry little gnome to bury the hatchet and stop plaguing the good people of Glengarriff. Seamus replied that there would be no peace in that part of Ireland until the locals agreed to provide one bottle of poteen (whiskey) each and every Samhain (the Irish word for Halloween). Mortimor assured him that he would have this arranged and his neighbors gladly complied with the leprechaun’s request.
To this very day the people of Glengarriff dutifully place a brand new unopened bottle of Irish whiskey on their doorstep every Halloween to keep their part of the bargain.