A/N: This silliness came to mind when I saw a clip on YouTube about a leprechaun sighting in a neighborhood of Mobile, Alabama. I could only imagine what kind of heyday the guys would have with it if they saw the news report that ran on the local NBC affiliate. If you haven't seen the clip, watch it before reading. I also recommend the accompanying rap…

Murph was an absolute fanatic about watching the news. Connor preferred movies but Murph always claimed truth was better than fiction. Besides they never knew when the vigilante killings that kept popping up all over the place would be blamed on the infamous "Saints of South Boston," who seemed like ghosts these days.

Da had returned to Ireland to be with Ma. It had been three years since they had been to Boston. The boys had become more surgical in their hits, leaving no signature. However, occasional copy cat killings on the news were cause for amusement. But it was a bizarre phenomenon: cities were strangely safer. Everyday people were fighting back against street crime, blowing the shit out of rapists, robbers, kidnappers, drug peddlers, child molesters. And Murph loved hearing about it on the news.

Come on, Conn, it's like every city's got a Charlie Bronson or three or four! Joe Blow is going to send us into retirement, Conn, Murphy would shake his head in amazement, as his brother watched the news with him without an argument, smoking a cigarette. T'would be nice, Connor would comment, and Murph could see Connor's effort to manage the wry smile.

This hellish game we play for each other, Murph thought. I pretend to let you take care of me and the whole time I am watching you. Connor would never cease to long for his life of really not so many years ago although it might as well have been a million. They moved constantly, as it had been for five years now. Connor could not accept any sort of human comfort. Not a decent bed, a clean toilet, a quiet neighborhood. Despite the sordid surroundings, inevitably something would remind him too sharply of what Murph thought of as "the way their life had begun": his job at the engineering firm, the cozy house in Cambridge, his kitchen gadgets, the Bordeauxs he brought home from the wine shop—that he brought home for her. Inevitably something would remind him too sharply of her, and Murph would instantly feel his twin's avalanching grief. He shared it too, of course. That was when they packed up and started the engine to whatever car they were driving at the time and headed somewhere new.

But Connor was okay for now, good-humored as he had always been and always would be.

"Holy, fuck, Connor, look, look at this!"

The reporter was describing a report of a leprechaun sighting in Mobile, Alabama.

Connor turned and glared at Murph then crossed his eyes. "Fuckin' hell, Murph."

"This is news! A bloody leprechaun! Turn up the volume, Conn! A leprechaun!"

Then the story began, showing crowds of people gathered around a tree. Huge crowds of people. Not just dozens of people, but hundreds of them. There was a fucking traffic jam and some nutjob was directing traffic. People were spouting off theories about what the leprechaun really was. Was it a shadow? One woman said it was probably a crackhead who had acquired a bad batch of dope.

"That's tha ticket, granny." Connor muttered with a loud belch, but Murph noticed he did lean forward in his chair with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry, sir, but I think yer leprechaun flute was made in China like everything else at Home Depot." Murph cackled at the television, getting an idea in his head, as the story ended.

"Bloody fuckin' Yanks. Smecker said he could get us ta Canada. I think it's a sign, Murph." Connor chuckled, as Murph scurried around looking for the atlas.

"Okay, Conn. We're here in Youngstown, Ohio. Here is Mobile, Alabama. We can be there in a day." Murph said, plunking down the map in front of his brother.

"Have ye lost yer bloody mind, Murph?"

"Absolutely. Look, they've got a Crocodile Hunter, Ghost Hunters, Shark Hunters, a Demon Hunter—or was that a movie? Doesn't matter, there are fuckin' anything hunters. We're bloody Irish. Who could be better experts on leprechauns than tha Irish?" Murph grinned. He was so fucking bored in that crappy town. It was cold, miserable and full of lowlifes. "Besides I want me picture taken in tha leprechaun tree with tha new camera."

"Ye bastard, ye know yer scared of heights."

"I'll make an exception this time." He knew Connor was going to agree. Connor was smirking.

"Leprechaun hunters, aye?"

"Aye."

"Well, get yer shit packed, ya fuckin' slob. We've got quite a drive it appears from tha map." Connor sighed, shaking his head.

"What tha fuck are we doin' here?" Murph asked, as Connor pulled into the parking lot of a posh looking men's shop in Bowling Green, Kentucky.

"If you're goin' ta be an expert, ye've got ta look like an expert." Connor smirked, giving his brother a shove.

Murphy was not best pleased when he was fitted with tweed trousers and some extremely natty Bally loafers. He gave Connor a foul look when he handed him a thick Irish wool cardigan which he was to wear over a pin point shirt and—"if ye utter the word 'fuck' in here, I'm goin' ta pinch yer bloody ear off, ye great ass"—a tie. Yes, Connor said, he'll be wantin' those cufflinks there. And yes, he'll also be taking the pipe. Now, have ye a toboggan in a complementary tweed? And yes, those suede gloves as well.

"Where tha hell are yer clothes, Connor?" Murph grumbled, as they walked out of the store. He was scotching mad about the argyle socks. He would never admit to Connor that those shoes were extremely comfortable.

"Oh, dear brother, I'm just yer helper. Yer the expert. I'm yer photographer and equipment operator." Connor smirked, then became serious. "Now, we've got ta go ta a place with an 'As Seen on TV' aisle, so I can find one of those bloody metal detectors they're always advertising in tha middle of tha night. Then we've got ta go ta a Radio Shack, so I can get some gear ta modify it into a leprechaun detecting device."

"A fucking cardigan sweater?"

"Yer The Leprechaun Hunter, Murph."

A/N:Please read and review. I just hope Murph can get himself up in that tree!