The Little People
by Pamela Freeman
It’s not hard to clone leprechauns. Getting the cell samples, that’s a different story. They’re nippy little bastards.
But you know, mate, we always knew they were out there. They reckon they came to Australia during the gold rush, 1850s, right? Lot of Irish came out then and the little blokes came with ’em.
So, we got some of those new night infra-red goggles - mate, you can see a flea piss from half a mile away with those. Couple of me mates and I went out after roos, got ourselves a leprechaun instead.
Like I said, the cloning was easy. We been doing it with the prize merinos for years. Getting the little bugger to hold still for the cell sample was the hard part.
And figuring out where the gold will show up once they’re born.
I don’t do it for the gold, but. No way. They get to keep the gold. We don’t muck around with that. We’re not here to rip anybody off.
And these people trying to push through the legislation, well I don’t mind telling you, I think they’re just fanatics. Where would these little people be without me? Nowhere, mate, that’s where they’d be. Worse than dead. Unborn.
It’s not like I make them work, either. They can do whatever they like. Within limits. They can do whatever they want, as long as they keep the gold buried on the farm.
Rainbow Farm. It’s got a nice ring to it, eh?
You’d be surprised at the number of throughputs we’ve got nowadays. Last month alone we had 300,000 people. Twenty, thirty bus loads a day, and you wouldn’t believe what we make on the film sales.
Then there’s the magazine shoots. Those fashion magazines, they just can’t get enough of it. You’d think they’d get tired of it, but they come from all over the world. ’Course, it costs them a bit.
We weren’t doing too well, to tell you the truth, when we had to wait for a rainy day. We picked this spot because it’s got the highest rainfall in the whole bloody country, but the problem was, it wasn’t rain we needed - it was the sky after rain. Turns out that’s rarer than hen’s teeth round here. If it’s not pissing down, it’s scorching.
It’s a lot better now we’ve covered the whole thing in. The guy who developed the flexiglass for us, he’s making a mint out of it. I hear they’re flexiglassing Disneyworld any day now.
Flexiglass and a good strong sprinkler system, that’s what we needed, mate. Rainbows on the hour, every hour. Even at night, now we’ve got the big lights put up. Consistency, that’s what the public want. The wedding receptions are a nice little sideline, too.
I don’t care what you’ve heard about the leprechauns. They’re happy as Larry. Get milk every day, fresh from the cow – no pasteurised stuff, they don’t like it. We keep a whole herd of bloody Jerseys just for them. I never thought I’d be a dairy farmer.
And they get nice little suits of clothes. Red and green, traditional. And they like talking to the tourists. We hardly have to persuade them at all. It’s not like we don’t feed them if they don’t come out to pose for the cameras. We just don’t give them the bread and honey. They still get the milk.
And it’s not true they’re upset because they all look alike. I’ve seen original leprechauns and I can tell you, mate, they all looked alike anyway.
So don’t you worry about those little blokes. We’re taking good care of ’em. I’ll let you in on a little secret. Little secret, get it? Someone I know’s got fairies at the bottom of their garden. ‘Fairy Bower’. What do you think? Like the butterfly house at the Zoo. Mate, it’ll be pretty as a picture. Imagine all the little girls who’ll want to have their birthday party there.
© Pamela Freeman, 2020