Foley Monster's True St Patrick's Story

 

 "What is Saint Patrick's Day?" Pocket asked me this morning.

"It is a day that humans celebrate Saint Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland," I said, like a disinterested parent.

"How did he do that?" the persistent Pocket asked.

"He didn't."

"Did anyone?"  

I put down my I Paw. It was time Pocket got the straight poop.

"There was a time when Ireland was lousy with snakes," I said. "You couldn't go anywhere without stepping on one of those slithering bastards. The people came to Patrick, their clergyman man, and asked him if he could get rid of the snakes. He told them he couldn't, but they thought he was modest. When the snakes stayed, the congregation complained about Patrick, and chances of obtaining sainthood were waining.

St Patrick had one confidant, his dog Paddy, and he told him that he had no idea how to clear the entire massive island of snakes. Paddy loved his dad very much and knew that life with a saint at the Bridge was like being a Kardashian in the valley; they would be treated like Gods. Conversely, the life of a failed saint was akin to living in poverty. It was up to Paddy to save his dad's candidacy and ensure their afterlife.

When Paddy slept, he went to the Bridge in his dreams to ask the wise elders who preceded him how to get rid of the snakes, and he was told that certain sounds enchant snakes, and when hearing it, they become senseless: Like lemmings.

Paddy tried to teach his dad how to play the flute with no luck. Whoever heard of a musically inclined saint. While practicing, Paddy walked with Patrick. Having eaten a corned beef and cabbage meal, Paddy was a little gassy and embarrassed he snuck out a high-pitched fart.

The snakes stopped what they were doing and began to follow Paddy's toots. The dog realized if he farted his way from Dublin to Glasgow, he could drive the snakes from the land. The good news is that there was a surfeit of corned beef because even the impoverished Irish from Saint Patrick's time wouldn't eat that crap.

For four months, they walked along, with Paddy eating corned beef and tooting, while Patrick walked next to them, fruitlessly playing the flute. Soon Paddy's farts drove the snakes into the sea and the country was free of the reptiles. The people thought, because of the bad flute playing, that it was Patrick, but others know it was Paddy, which is why the day is known by both names.

Paddy doesn't mind that he did not get full credit for driving the snakes from the Emerald Isle. He is living now in fancy saint quarters at the Bridge.

Anyway, it is our job to make our humans look like saints, although rarely is that taken literally."