Rotbart and "Annie" Walk Into a Bar
Apple frowned as she and Rotbart floated towards the ground. "But there's nothing here!" She said. The meadow he was pointing at was completely bare (unless you counted the small hill in the middle).
Rotbart smirked. "With leprechauns, there's always more than meets the eye." He said.
The fairytale teens landed at the top of the hill. And much to Apple's surprise, two weird-looking daisies rose out of the ground to meet them. One had a large, toothy mouth instead of a center and the other had an eyeball instead of a center.
The eyeball daisy leaned towards them and narrowed it's single, green eye. "What's the password?" The other one's mouth demanded.
"Your mother is a slag and your father is a spanner." Rotbart instantly replied. The mouth-daisy ginned at them. "Come on in!" It declared. And with that, a trap door, much like the door to a cellar, revealed itself. Warm, golden light poured out and Apple could hear laughter and swearing coming from down below.
Rotbart strode in and noticed that Apple was rooted where she was. He turned back to her and cocked an eyebrow. "You coming?" He asked.
Apple took a deep breath. The full reality of what she was about to do had suddenly hit her; she, the crown princess of the UFK and the next fairest-of-them-all was about to illegally enter a bar. Godmother only knew what would happen if her mother ever found out!
But then Apple figured that she had already acted way out of character today by getting her would-be Prince Charming suspended. Going into a bar was minor compared to that. And getting Daring suspended and humiliated had been for a good reason. So really, this was perfectly alright. Sort if. It would be if she never let alcohol touch her lips. And whatever unsavory characters might be down there, at least Apple had one of the baddest bad guys around on her side.
"OK." Apple said. And she followed Rotbart down the winding staircase that led to Twisted Kelly's.
Apple was surprised when she finally set foot in the bar itself; Twisted Kelly's was a lot a nicer looking than she had expected. The place was quite cozy with a big roaring fire in the corner and the wooden walls, ceiling, floors, shelves, chairs, and tables were all well-maintained and polished. Irish memorabilia tastefully decorated the walls and the various bottles of alcohol behind the bar were carefully arranged and displayed like precious jewels. Clearly, the leprechauns took a lot of pride in this establishment.
The patrons of Twisted Kelly's weren't exactly what Apple expected either. There were some tough-looking elves, some harmless-looking evil henchmen, some sentient animals, some garden-variety witches and warlocks, a couple of fairies, a couple of pirates, and a LOT of leprechauns. They were a rowdy bunch (and many of them looked quite cunning), but they weren't the sort of rough, hardcore, villainous crowd Apple had dreaded meeting.
Many of the leprechauns brightened when they saw Rotbart walk in.
"Hey Rotbart!" One waved.
"Long time, no see!" Another said jovially.
"Hey Kelly!" A third one bellowed in a surprisingly loud voice. "The Russian's here!"
The Russian? Apple thought in confusion. A plump, middle-aged leprechaun with balding red hair looked up from the drink he was mixing at the bar.
"Ah Rotbart, me young rogue." He said warmly. "I was wonderin' when you were gonna grace us wit' your presence this year. Been causing plenty o' mayhem, I trust?"
Rotbart grinned. "Just doing my part to make the world more interesting, Kelly."
Kelly chuckled. "Ah, I do admire that attitude of yours, boyo." Then Kelly noticed Apple standing slightly behind Rotbart. "Who's the feek?" He asked.
Apple drew herself up in indignation. "What did you call me?!" She snapped.
Kelly blinked in surprise at Apple's outburst, but quickly recovered. "Beggin' your pardon miss, but there are simply no words to describe so rare a beauty as you." He said charmingly. "Feek is a poor word, to be sure, but 'tis all we simple men can say when confronted wit' a goddess."
Rotbart rolled his eyes. Leave it to Kelly to pile on the blarney. He thought. Nonetheless, Kelly's flattery quickly restored Apple's goodwill.
"Oh, why thank you," Apple said sweetly. "I am A-"
"Annie Smith." Rotbart smoothly interrupted. A pointed glance from him reminded Apple that now was not the time or place to make her royal status public.
"Oh, yes..." Apple said awkwardly. "Just plain, old Annie Smith, that's me." She secretly regretted that Rotbart had come up with such a very common sounding name.
If Kelly thought Apple and Rotbart's exchange was odd, he didn't show it. "Pleased ta meet you, Miss Smith." He said grandly. "I'm Mike Kelly, the owner of dis fine establishment. If there's anything you require, anything a' tall, don't hesitate to ask." He turned to Rotbart. "The usual, then?" He asked.
"Yep." Rotbart replied.
"Excellent, just sit where you please, and I'll tell tell Mag to start cooking. And I'll get a menu for your friend." Kelly said. It didn't escape Rotbart that Kelly had a sly, insinuating emphasis on the word "friend" and that Kelly's green eyes were twinkling WAY too merrily. Clearly, Rotbart's leprechaun friend had the wrong idea.
Great. Robart thought gloomily. It looked like he was stuck playing the role of Apple's date for tonight. Once again, he found himself wondering why he had invited her at all.
Hours later, he would seriously regret that decision.