Saint Patrick's Day
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"Sandburg?" Jim sounded a little worried. He'd dropped by the university to take his partner to lunch at the local Irish Pub for Corned Beef and Cabbage in honor of Saint Patrick's Day. He blinked several times, but the vision before him remained.
"Yeah, Jim?" Blair asked, lifting his head from the book he had been reading. The library was nearly deserted and he had arranged to have Jim meet him there, instead of his office.
"Uh, what's that?" Jim whispered in confused worry. Blair turned to look where he was pointing.
"Oh,that. Don't worry about him. He does this every year."
"Yeah, but what is it?" He couldn't tear his eyes from the vision.
"You've met him before. That's Ira Cohen. Remember? I know that I've introduced you. He was at that last function I dragged you to."
"But...what's he dressed up as?" Jim hissed, turning his horrified gaze to his friend. He remembered meeting the man, but he'd been dressed, well, normally then. Today...well, today he was wearing pale green tights, forest green booties, kelly green Peter Pan style shorts, a cream colored frilly shirt with a short, dark green jacket, with a green Robin Hood cap with an enormously long orange feather sticking up from it.
"It's Saint Patrick's day, Jim." Blair reminded him.
"Blair, he's got to be six-foot-six and can't weigh over a hundred and fifty pounds. Answer the question.
"Oh. He does this every year. On Saint Patrick's day, Ira always dresses up as a Leprecohen."
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