The Legend of the Jack O' Lantern
as told by Halloween_Jakk
Chapter 1 Once upon a time, in Ireland, there was a man named Jack. Jack wasn’t what you would call a likable fellow. As a matter of fact, Jack was somewhat of a bully who enjoyed playing mean spirited pranks upon his neighbors. Many a man tried to set him in his place but none could beat Jack at his game, nor could they best him in a scrap, as Jack was tough as a coffin nail and strong as a mule. Many folks just accepted his shenanigans as fact of life and bore his tomfoolery as many do with such matters beyond their power. One could only hope that they never caught Jack’s attention, but Jack was thorough in spreading his art and rarely did a soul escape his wiles for long.
Now about this time the Devil was making his rounds of the Emerald Isle to collect souls to keep the fires of hell a burnin’. Old Nick took special delight in gathering souls in Ireland. He viewed each one taken as retribution for St. Patrick casting out his beloved snakes from the land. Little did he know that this time would be different from all his other visits. This time Lucifer would meet his match.
As luck would have it Shamus Finnegan was walking home one night from the pub after Jack had lit the tail of his vest on fire as he sat drinking his pint at the bar. Being a man of modest means it was Shamus’ best vest, as it was the only vest he owned. Embarrassed and angry he silently swore revenge on Jack and left the pub in a fume with the sound of Jack's raspy cackle ringing in his ears.
The moon was full and the road well lit when the Devil spotted Shamus walking up the path. “Ah ha†he thought,†here comes one now.†The Devil ducked behind a low wall so as to make a grand appearance by jumping out as his prey drew near. Closer and closer Shamus came until finally the Devil, giddy with anticipation, could no longer wait and leapt from his hiding place with a mighty roar.
“I’ve come for your soul!†the devil proclaimed to the solitary chap.
“Bugger off, you great red poof,†Shamus mumbled as he shouldered past the horned gent, burnt waistcoat in hand. The Devil was taken aback. Never had anyone responded in such a way. Maybe he’s drunk, the Devil thought to himself, I’ll race ahead and try this again. Again he tried, and again he was met with the same retort.
“Now hold up,†the baffled demon entreated, “Just what in the blazes is going on here?â€
“Ha, You think, after livin’ me whole life in this village with the likes of Jack, that something like yerself would be a bother?†Shamus said defiantly, “Think again. I’ll be sayin’ good night to ye sir.â€
“Jack? Who is this Jack you speak of that can steal the fear of me from a man?†The Devil inquired.
“You’ll be finding him down in Cohen’s pub there down the lane. You’ll know the man on sight. Good luck collecting that one I say. You’d be doin’ this town a favor!†With that Shamus hocked a wad of spit on the ground in defiance and went on his way.
(To Be Continued…)
© 2006 T. Propes. Write your own version!
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