View Full Version : The Real Story of Saint Patrick, Adult 1,000

October 22nd, 2014, 08:24 PM
“Baaaah!” the sheep cried as they munched on sparse grass in the hills of Eire. Dumb animals, you never heard a complete tune like, “Bah, bahhh, bbbaaah, baaa, ba, ba.” Just one “baaaah” after the other, all day long, with an occasional “baaazzzzzzz” in the night.

Patricius Calpurnius was used to it. Ever since being captured at his home at Bannavem Taburniae in England, he had been tending the sheep. Kidnapped at sixteen, he had spent almost two years there, so far. It wasn’t a bad job, but lonely and below minimum wage.

Since the Irish couldn’t get any Irishman to do the work, they had to lure or capture Englishmen for the job. Who would willingly spend a lifetime looking up sheep asses and shoveling shit? "Only the English," was the cry. The Irish loved to spread the stuff, but not shovel it.

Patricius, or Patrick in Gaelic, heard an all-too-familiar cry. “Urkk, baaaaaa, urkkk, baaaaaaaa.”

Running around a rock, the boy spied that pesky aardvark mounting one of his sheep. Patrick grabbed a rock and flung it at the creature. Not being a very good shot with a rock, it hit the sheep instead, the large aardvark not noticing. It didn’t miss a stroke as the sheep sank to its knees, and then belly.

Finished, the aardvark looked around as Patrick ran toward him. With a loud “Urrrkk” it took off into the rocks. Sighing, Patrick picked up the contented female sheep to carry back to the herd.

Looking around, he saw a certain large rat sitting on a high rock, like usual. It sat on its butt and hind legs, body raised and watching the activity. Angry at the aardvark, Patrick spoke to the rat for the first time.

“Why didn’t you stop him? What good are you, rat? Just sitting there and watching him rape my sheep?”

The sheep looked up at Patrick with dreamy eyes, as if to say "What rape, Kimo-sabe?"

The rat simply shrugged its shoulders and smiled.

Later, the aardvark, carefully looking around first, came up to the rat and gave it a small copper coin.

“Thanks, Raticus. That was the best sheep you’ve found me yet. I loved it when she lay down on her stomach.” He waved his tail and left.

You see, Raticus Ratreagan was a Gaelic pimp and a rich Druid rat, and that was how he stayed that way -- a rich Druid rat.

The next day, Patrick was daydreaming of having his first sex -- with someone else, that is. Lying against one of the many rocks and watching his sheep jiggling their behinds at him, Patrick wondered what human women were like. He never even noticed Raticus standing next to him.

An experienced pimp, Raticus recognized the symptoms, even in a human.

“Hey, boy,” Raticus asked, “you wanna get laid?”

“What’s 'laid' mean?”

“Spend some time with a girl, stupid, doing the old bouncy, bouncy. Boom, boom, pant, pant, wink, wink. You know what I mean?”

“Uh, uh. Miss Kennedy fixes breakfast for me sometimes, and I’m with her. She’s fat and ugly, though.”

“Na, I can get you a nice juicy young girl ... for two sheep a night, that is?”

“Two sheep? I dunno. The boss would be after my butt if I did.”

“Just tell him a wolf got them, that’s all you gotta do. He trusts you,” Raticus explained.

“I gotta see her first.”

A deal made, Raticus disappeared into the rocks -- where else?

That afternoon, Patrick herded the sheep back to his little camp in the wild and put them in a corral for the night. Going into a tent, he found a human girl about his age. She was naked under a sheepskin blanket, just lying there, smiling and wiggling ten pink little toes.

“Come on in, boy.” She flipped back the sheepskin, motioning him in with her. It took all of ten seconds for Patrick to comply. He didn’t know what to do or how to do it, but was willing and able. Hands busy, Patrick didn’t notice her pick up a book. It was a Bible.

“Hey, that tickles. Cut it out. I’ve been sent here by God, and Raticus, to teach you many things, including thhaaat, ha, ha.” It did tickle. “Now pay attention. First you have to learn what the Bible says.”

The girl stayed with Patrick all summer, teaching him many things and making him memorize the Bible in order to get his rewards. By the end of summer, Raticus had the entire herd of sheep -- two at a time. With the Bible finished and no more sheep to pay her, the girl left for home, taking half a herd with her.

Not having any sheep left, Patrick didn’t know what to do.

“Guess I better go back to England before the Irish hang me?” he told himself. It was his only way out. So Patrick started out on a two-hundred mile journey to the coast. Having many adventures, he made his way back to freedom in his native land.

Being really, really versed in the words of the Lord, Patrick soon made Bishop in the Catholic Church.

He couldn’t forget that girl though, and finally went back to Ireland. That time it was to look for his lover and, incidentally, convert the Irish to Christianity.

He never did find the girl, but did find Raticus again. The Druid rat taught Patrick a simple incantation to help him in his converting.

“Just use this, Pat, and you can chase all the snakes and aardvarks out of Eire,” helpful Raticus told the future Saint and accepted his payment in gold -- Patrick being wealthy by then.

Patrick used the magic Druid incantation to impress his converts. Which is why you never see any snakes or aardvarks in Ireland anymore, but plenty of girls and Christians. The few remaining Druids would rather it were the other way around.

By Oscar Rat

John Galt
October 26th, 2014, 01:07 PM
I like this a lot... and I can't figure out exactly why, but that's a good thing. It's pretty charming and has a nice humorous undertone to it that I quite enjoy, with the added bonus of not trying too hard to do so. It feels like one of those comedic shows that you read/watch every now and again, but they never really lose their charm.

When I saw the title, I immediately thought its some "St. Patrick the exorcist who battles evil with his righteousness" type thing. Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised. The ending feels a little "and the rest was history" but I suppose it's a testament to the fact that I'd probably read the piece in one sitting if it was a novel and just wanted more. Very well done. I hope to read more of your work.

Happy writing.

October 26th, 2014, 02:13 PM
Just one “baaaah” after the other, all day long, with an occasional “baaazzzzzzz” in the night

That made me smile. Almost laugh.

I think it is kemosabe, not kimo-sabe, but who cares...I liked the Tonto reference. :P

Pretty sure St Pat was born in Scotland to a pair of Romans, so his being "English" didn't make much sense to me. Still, 'true story of...' so I went with it knowing that facts were changed.

The Aardvark bit was a frowning part on its first mention; only when it became apparent to the story later did it make me smile.

I was smiling at the end so I guess I enjoyed it on the whole. Still; there are probably a few people who will definitely not like what you have done to the beloved St. Patrick. ^_^


October 26th, 2014, 03:00 PM
Thanks for commenting, John and Greimour. Oscar says he got his information from the venerable Rat Archives, where he works as a staff writer. The Rat Archives holds information about ratkind from long before humans dropped from trees and were too stupid to climb back up. Oscar's job is somewhat like Winston Smith's in Orwell's book, "1984". He updates rodent history. He also works part time as Rodent Adviser and Troubleshooter for President Obama, with an office in the White House. Colonel North's old office, to be exact.

Oscar Rat and myself are intimate friends. Since he lives in a large unused corner of my cranium, I can't get away from that darned rat without cutting off my own head. If I did that, my shoulders would be basically useless. So, I'm stuck with him.