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So this golfer knocks one into the rough and as he's looking for his ball he hears this little voice calling for help. He looks around and finds a hole - about waist deep. Waist deep for a grown man that is. Deep enough though that a leprechaun has fallen in and cannot get out.
The golfer reverses his club, extends it so the little fellow can grab hold and pulls him out.
"So," says the leprechaun, "You'll be wantin' your t'ree wishes, now."
"Oh no," replies the golfer, "I don't want anything. Glad to be of help."
"Me boyo. You get t'ree wishes. It's the standard deal. Now let's get on wit' it."
The golfer demurs again. So the leprechaun (the little people can be a mite testy) makes them for him. "You'll become a scratch golfer, win a lot of money and have a wonderful sex life," he declares.
The golfer, amused, thanks him and goes back to his game.
Years later at the same course the golfer drives straight down the fairway and ends up just short of the green. As he's walking along he hears a voice call from the woods. Looking over he sees the leprchaun and goes over to say hello.
The leprechaun asks how he's been since they last met and the golfer replies that he's been great.
"My golf game has really improved and the week after I saw you I won the Irish sweepstakes. I gave most of the money to charity, but I got some nice things for myself."
"And?"
"That's pretty much it."
"Well, what about your sex life, me boyo?" the leprechaun demands.
"Oh, yeah. That's been great, too. I've been getting laid three or four times a month."
"T'ree or four times a munt'!" the leprechaun sputters. "That's all?"
"Well," replies the golfer, "that's not bad for a priest with no car in a small parish."
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