An American golfer playing in Ireland hooked his drive into the woods. Looking for his ball, he found a little Leprechaun flat on his back, a big bump on his head and the golfer's ball beside him. Horrified, the golfer got his water bottle from the cart and poured it over the little guy, reviving him. "Arrgh! What happened?" the Leprechaun asked. "Oh, I see. Well, ye got me fair and square. Ye get three wishes, so whaddya want?" "Thank God, you're all right!" the golfer answers in relief. "I don't want anything. I'm just glad you're okay, and I apologize. I really didn't mean to hit you." And the golfer walks off. "What a nice guy," the Leprechaun says to himself. "But it was fair and square that he got me, and I have to do something for him. I'll give him the three things I would want - a great golf game, all the money he ever needs, and a fantastic sex life." A year goes by (as it does in stories like this) and the American golfer is back on the same hole, he again hits a bad drive into woods and the Leprechaun is there waiting for him. "T'was me that made ye hit the ball here," the little guy says. "I just want to ask ye, how's yer golf game?" "My game is fantastic!" the golfer answers. "In fact, that's the first bad ball I've hit in a year! I'm an internationally famous golfer now." He adds, "By the way, it's good to see you're all right." "Oh, I'm fine now, thankee. I did that fer yer golf game, ya know. And tell me, how's yer money situation?" "Why, it's just wonderful!" the golfer states. "I win fortunes in golf. If I need cash, I just reach in my pocket and pull out $100 bills I didn't even know were there!" "I did that fer ye also. And tell me, how's yer sex life?" The golfer blushes, turns his head away in embarrassment, and says shyly, "It's OK." "C'mon, c'mon now," urged the Leprechaun, "I'm wanting to know if I did good job. How many times a day?" Blushing even more, the golfer looks around then whispers, "Once, sometimes twice a week.." "What?!?!" responds the Leprechaun in shock. "That's all? Only once or twice a week?!" "Well," says the golfer, "I figure that's not bad for a Catholic priest in a small parish."