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A few minutes ago.

[Luckily my pajamas are green, otherwise the d.a.m.n gra.s.s would have stained them.]

After wiping his b.u.t.tocks with his hands, accompanied by his puppies, the little man comes to stand in the middle of the path. Knowing that his small size and his build closer to that of a goblin than to that of a common man will not frighten these two sublime neat chicks if he doesn't use great means, he decides to adopt the position, known as: the berserk bear.

His lips separate slightly and with the help of a grimace that the Great Prosper has taught him, he reveals his few remaining teeth. Not waiting for the tiger to take another step, he bends his knees, positions his legs in a perfect square and to block the path of the two beauties, his arms too short spread to the sides.

Now, ready to intercept the package for tonight's feast, he checks the body position that his puppies have adopted and seeing that his men are definitely good apprentices, the little pack leader starts to scream.

"You, the neat chicks, fear for your miserable lives. You see before you the vicious members of the notorious band of robbers of the Great and Infamous Prosper."

As these puppies are, the little man is very surprised when the teenage girl jumps from her perch and runs towards them. It wasn't supposed to happen like that, but not knowing the way this exotic bird thinks, he doesn't leave his position, of psychological effect.

This young girl is really very beautiful, her thin thighs revealed by her very short skirt would certainly make race the heart and the... Finally, she would certainly make race the youngest members of their gang, however, for a mature man like him, be it at the level of her hips or her bust, the meat that is a bit missing for a feast worthy of a King confirms his first idea: this pretty bird is still a bit young to be able to bear the official name of neat chick.

(Sniff) (Sniff) [What an exquisite scent. Wouldn't that smell like fresh baked brioche made with good farm eggs reaching my nostrils?]

Carried away by the familiar scent, reminiscent of his mother whose brioches, renowned for their flavour, drew many customers to the family's small estate... When the little man in green pajamas finally comes to his senses, words shouted by a cute little voice almost make him fall backwards.

"Hoho, little leprechauns! Hoho, little leprechauns, I've come for my money."

The little man's amazement lasts only a second. One of his puppies, just as disturbed as he is by this unexpected event in the original plan, turns his head and, hesitating a little about how he should act, he turns to him.

"Pack leader, what do we do now that one of the neat chicks has regained his freedom and is running in the wilderness?"

[Indeed, it's boring. Even more annoying is that the mature bird has not fallen from its perch. Hmmm, too bad, we must act without delay or both will spread their wings and fly away.]

"Listen to me, puppies! I know these are disappointing, but the neat chick, the real one I mean, doesn't seem afraid of our technique, of psychological effect. As you both know, if we get close to this demonic animal, we'll definitely end up like, steak tartare. It's unfortunate, but we'll have to make do with this adorable little immature fowl. Don't worry. If we raise it with love, feed it with the best grain and offer it good cosmetics, in a few years, it won't lose to this neat chick with huge b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Huh?"

"My money please, Mr. Leprechaun."

The little hand that rises up in front of him arouses the little man's curiosity. Slowly, he looks up at the pretty smiling face of the little bird and when he finally reaches his big, smart green eyes, he feels like he's being sucked into a whirlpool of sweetness.

What sweetness, what grace, what beauty! Is this the secret that gives this heavenly bird its unique taste and the texture of its legendary meat?]

The moment to play the gourmets tasting the best of gourmet cuisine in a restaurant known for its specialty in game, not being the best chosen, when the little man manages to extract himself from the charm of the beautiful teenager, with his right hand, he grabs her little wrist, but not forgetting that intoxicating smell of brioche so nostalgic, with the help of his left, he pulls the pastry from the child's hand.

As the little hunter, certain that he has succeeded in seizing his prey, displays a victorious smile and prepares to lift the teenager from the ground to flee from the demonic creature, his body begins to shake.

"Leprechaun thief, give me back my little brioche."

The little man doesn't understand what's happening to him. True, this little thing is already greater than he is, but this a baby bird just hatched from of her egg, so, why is his body so tetanized?

The body stiff but trembling on the surface, unable to utter a word, the little man drops the pastry on the floor.

(Swifft) (Swifft) The soft sound of the mellow brioche falling on this dirt path and bouncing off before coming to rest is immediately followed by a much louder sound. (Slap)

The little man thinks he's coming out of his body such is the power of that slap. Under the violence of the blow, his hand lets go of the young bird's wrist, then, as if he were drunk, as if to accompany this little hand that has just hit his cheek, he turns on himself.

"I knew what Helene was saying could only be nonsense. As for you, bad Leprechaun, you'll pay for depriving me of my delicious brioche."

The little man finishes his trick on himself. He's about to fall to the ground when a helpful little hand grabs the top of his green pajamas. (Slap) Once again, he feels this mighty hand go through his face, and under of a too much pressure, the little man coughs and spits out a tooth.

"Young fowl, have mercy. I..."

He doesn't have time to finish his sentence until a kick lands on his ankle. "Silence, bad leprechaun. Thieves, they must be punished or they'll do it all over again. Now, spanking."

He tries to fight, but the little birdie folds him in half as if he were only made of paper. Impotent in her hands, she puts it on her knee without too much difficulty. The little man struggles as much as he can, yet he must face the fact that, strange as it may seem, this young bird is far too strong for him. Yet, when he feels a slight draught creep into the hollow of his private rear part, he tries to resist again.

"No, don't take off my pyjamas. For pity's sake, pretty little bird! I'm just a modest person, and to have my a.s.s out in the open in front of other men, confuses me."

"You have to understand I'm doing this for your own good, so try to think about and enjoy your punishment. Now be quiet, brioche thief." (Slap) (Slap)