Cloontipruckilish

  Cloontipruckilish didn't drink, smoke, wear a hat, grant wishes, play pranks, pick shamrocks, or even favor the color green. Cloontipruckilish loved every color he knew and would never tell one that it was his favorite above the others. Cloontipruckilish was from the old school when colors knew their place, as did the mortals who craved them so.
  "Colors these days," he was saying to no one in particular, "Colors these days ain't no self respect! No sense of exclusivity! Johnathon had respect. Jonathon was a grey slab of granite but he knew how to make it count. Seems like these days nobody's got remembrance for the right old ways no more lessen they've gone metamorphic on 'ya. Ever try talkin' to marble? By the time it finishes a thought you forgot what 'ya came for."
  It was a beautiful day on the mountain. Even a connoisseur like Cloontipruckilish couldn't help but approve. The sunlight was taking it's time to carefully cascade down and soak into the well manicured cloud banks. The clouds gave the sunlight enough privacy to organize into proper sunbeams before striking downwards. A harmonious mood was settling in and even the spastic deer were slowing down to look at things that they weren't running away from.
  "No restraint these days!" Cloontipruckilish was telling a hollowed out oak tree.  "I remember the day when a little girl could spent a whole day singin' a song about one pretty red flower she found. These days they don't even know their constellations. You'll never catch me on a greeting card by thunder. Mortal wants to see what I have to show, they better just have a sit-down an' think a spell."
  Cloontipruckilish wasn't the joyless type, but he did believe in discipline and order. He hated the imitation rainbows that mortals had learned to refine from otherwise well behaved white light. "You can shine the whole sun at a glass triangle," he'd say, "but at the end of the day, it still won't show you where the gold is. And what's this they say about coins? I'd be a marshmallow hawking cartoon the day I offer money for ta' look at my colors! Horse hockey! Mortal thinks he can just feast his eyes without even stopping once in a while to see what's right in front of 'em. They expect everything wrapped up in plastic and bounced off the moon if it's supposed to hold any value, and they don't even know any words that rhyme with hippopotamus!"
  Cloontipruckilish had a rough tone of voice, but those who knew him understood that Cloontipruckilish rarely chose to speak at all unless he was in high spirits and planning something special. "Trouble with mortals making their own colors," he explained to thin air, "trouble is mortals wanna see colors all over the place, and think they have a right to, but come time they need it, their peepers've gone flat and it don't mean nothin' to 'em."
  Like any good force of nature, Cloontipruckilish's favorite thing in the world was to find a job that only he could do, and there was something about this place on this day that seemed to speak his name. The birds were chirping a little bit quieter than they normally did as if they were saving the extra volume for a more intense moment. There was a mortal nearby, one who was ready to see something special. Cloontipruckilish wanted to hurry, but he didn't.
  "Can't say I blame 'em for tryin' though. A mortal can only be certain of two things. They was born one day, and they could die at any second. That kind of condition doesn't exactly inspire confidence or patience in a man. Can't hold it against a mortal for grabbin' on to something they think is special and tryin' to keep it close." 
  Cloontipruckilish had taken position at the top of a hill that looked down on a small valley. This was the place. The view was just right and the mortal would be coming down the slope on the opposite side of the valley. Cloontipruckilish had learned to consider the safety of his subjects and didn't want this one walking backwards downhill while trying to get a better view.
  A tall figure came out from behind a tree and started down the hill across from Cloontipruckilish. The man walked slowly and kept his eyes on the ground. He was carrying a few charms and symbols that should have helped to repel foul humors, but they didn't seem to be working. The mortal was feeling very disappointed and was at risk of becoming Cloontipruckilish's least favorite thing, cynical.
  "I've got just the ticket for you chum." Cloontipruckilish whispered while taking careful aim.
  The mortal stopped dead in his tracks. Everything seemed to slow down and get quiet. He lifted his head and looked around for the source of this strange but familiar energy. Then he saw it, and saw it again. His mind couldn't seem grasp what he was seeing and file it under 'been there done that.' He had seen things like this before but this time it was forceful. The colors seemed to pierce through the air, his retinas, and his brain to shine directly off of his soul.
  "Ohmygod, that's so intense." the mortal sank to his knees and forgot every other thing around himself. "All the way across the sky! It's a Double Rainbow! What does it mean?!?"