Whack a Fairy: A Hilarious Courtroom Tale of Fairies, Fights, and Forgotten Wisdom

We were just playing Whack-a-Mole, your honor,” the teenager explained, shifting uncomfortably.

The judge raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing despite his relatively youthful face. “You’ll have to clarify that, son. I’m not as young as I look.”

“It’s an arcade game,” the teen began. “Plastic moles pop up from holes, and you whack them with a mallet. You score points for each one you hit.”

“Ah,” the judge nodded, his gaze growing distant, as though a window had opened in his mind — one that looked onto a memory from another world, another time.

A very, very long time ago…

“If ever you see a fairy, boy,” his father had said, voice low and grave, “grab the stoutest plank you can find and swing with all your might.”

“But Da,” the boy had protested, eyes wide with curiosity, “what’s the fairy ever done to me?”

“It’s not what they’ve done,” his father muttered, staring at the fairy ring that glowed faintly in the grass, “it’s what they will do, given the chance.”

“But… you’re always saying the law says ‘innocent until proven guilty.’ Shouldn’t that count for fairies too?”

His father gave a frustrated grunt, as though torn between wisdom and superstition. “That law’s for humans, lad. Fairies aren’t bound by our rules.”

Still, the boy had promised. Yet when he finally saw a fairy — shimmering and laughing, teasing rabbits from their burrows — he couldn’t swing the plank. The creature had done no harm, only made him laugh. And when the fairy noticed him, they laughed together, before the sprite vanished down a rabbit hole, leaving only wonder behind.

He never told his father.

But at the full moon, he woke to a presence at his bedside — a luminous being whose beauty was as sharp as her moonlit teeth. “You showed kindness to my reckless brother,” she said, her voice like a song of distant stars. “Why?”

“Innocent… until proven guilty,” he whispered.

She smiled, and her resemblance to her brother was unmistakable in that grin of impishness. She offered her hand — he took it, mesmerized — and left his home forever, walking willingly into the fairy ring that opened for her.

There, he learned: histories, philosophies, laws of civilizations long crumbled. She told him he was destined to lead his people, that he was brilliant and noble. But fairies tire easily of human dedication, and soon she grew bored. One day, she declared, “You are ready.”

“Ready for what?” he asked, his voice deepened with years he hadn’t noticed passing.

“To remind your people that we exist.” And with a push, she thrust him back into the human world — a world now unrecognizable, where steel birds flew and people carried glowing rectangles in their pockets.

Stumbling, starving, he survived. The only thing of value: an ancient tome — the Hammurabi’s Code — which fetched a fortune in the right collector’s hands. That money paid for his law degree, grounding his mind in the structures of justice.

“…So Pat was winning,” the teenager continued in court, “but my girl Eileen said he was cheating. She whacked him instead of the mole, and I had to back her up. Then Pat whacked her back, and suddenly we’re rolling on the floor. Duncan, who runs the arcade, tries to break it up, but Eileen starts swinging at him too. Then the cops show up…”

The judge blinked, returning to the present. “Do you have a father, young man?”

The teen looked puzzled. “Yeah.”

“What advice has he given you?”

“Uh… Don’t mix beer with hard liquor, don’t smoke, don’t get married, and always back your mates.”

The judge’s eyes glimmered. “And which of those did you ignore last night?”

The teen hesitated. “I backed Eileen… but maybe I should’ve backed Pat. He’s been my mate forever.”

The judge nodded solemnly. “I believe you’ve just learned your lesson.” He banged his gavel. “You and your friends will pay for the damages at the arcade. And remember: a father’s advice may sound strange, but it often saves you a world of trouble.”

The teen nodded sheepishly. The judge smiled faintly, his mind echoing with memories of a plank he never swung and a night sky he once walked beneath — a reminder that some lessons, whether of men or fairies, endure.

✅ Moral of the Story

Sometimes, the wisdom passed down through generations carries truths about loyalty, choices, and the unseen consequences of our actions — even when it sounds peculiar.