Once upon a time there was a hiker, hiking in the woods. He was advised to return to camp before it got too dark, but of course he didn't listen. Sure enough, once the sun set, he got lost and started calling out for help.

Out of nowhere comes a little man in a green jacket. "You need help getting out of the woods?" he asked with a smirk.

"Of course I do!" the hiker shrieked. "You've got to get me out of here! How do I get back to camp!?"

The little man laughed and danced a merry jig. "It's nothing at all to get you back to camp. I'm a leprechaun and I'll grant you three wishes!" he said. "You just have to let me fuck you up the ass."

The hiker stopped his shrieking and looked at the little man dubiously. "Yeah, whatever," he said, "quit screwing around and show me the way outta here."

The little person looked offended. "Fine, find your own damn way outta the woods. Hope a bear doesn't eat you or something. And watch your step - it'd be a tragedy if you tripped and sprained your ankle. And take care not to wander into the poison ivy that grows so plentifully around here..."

Immediately the hiker recanted his position and swore he believed in leprechauns. Overjoyed, the little person said, "Well, I'll give you three wishes for anything you want, so long as you let me fuck you up the ass." When the hiker objected again he reminded him of the various wildlife that came out specifically at night to hunt vulnerable prey. The hiker reluctantly pulled down his shorts and bent over. Up, up, up climbed the spry little man and immediately began pumping into the bigger man's buttocks with his wee prick! He asked, convivally, "So! (grunt, grunt) What'll your first wish be?"

"Getting out of these damned woods," said the man.

"Of course, of course!" laughed the little man. "(grunt, grunt) And your second wish?"

"Riches beyond my wildest (urrgh, ouch) dreams," growled the hiker.

The little man laughed as he thrust merrily into the clenching anus. "No doubt, no doubt! And what (grunt, grunt) would your third wish be for, now?"

"Your untimely demise," he said drily, "ideally as violent as possible."

The little man cackled to hear such invective and bore it all in good grace. "Can't say I blame you, my good man! (grunt, grunt) By the way, how old are you, anyway?"

"Thirty-seven," said the hiker. "Why, what's that got to do with anything?"

"Thirty-seven years old," mused the little man, punking joyously into the large, flabby buttocks. "And you still believe in leprechauns?"