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I didn't expect him to be there, standing inside my wardrobe with a hooter in his a hand and gulping
down a bottle of whisky. He was small. He looked like any other person. Except, he had bright red hair, a big bushy beard, and dressed in completely green. I think he's a leprechaun.
'Hi,' I said. I wasn't quite sure what to say at this moment in time.
'Why hello there little lady.' He said back, in his blaring Irish accent.
'Who are you?' He was looking at me now. As if to say, ' How dare you ask who I am when I'm in YOUR wardrobe.'
'I'm Thigglesthringe. And who might you be?' He said. He burped as he talked, and half of the bottle of whisky had already been tipped onto the floor as he stood up in a drunken manner.
'I don't need to tell you my name. You're in my wardrobe? What are you doing here?'
'I dunno. All of a sudden I were buying a bottle a whisky, and the next minute I couldn't see anything, and
I was trapped in this giant box you seem to be calling a 'wardrobe'?'