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He sighs heavily. "Fine then. It's [i]your[/i] eyes."

 To your surprise, he casually walks over to the little guy, who, unwisely, shouts, "Do your WORST, you over-compensating, spastic freak!" 

 CWhiteblade's eyes suddenly go ice-cold, and something seems to snap inside him.  A chill runs down your (and the leprachaun's) spine as he slowly bends over and picks the guy up. 

 And then he stuffs him inside his shirt. 

 You don't remember too much after that.  Frankly, neither does the leprachaun.  Even after the surgery to remove the section of your brain that contained this memory, you could still faintly remember tiny, tinny screams of "[i]OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD IT'S LIKE A FOREST GET ME OUT GET ME OUT GOD HAVE MERCY  AAAUUUUUUUUGGHHH!!![/i]" and then flashes of the leprechaun's limp body on the ground, in a puddle of hair. 

 You pick yourself up from your own puddle (of vomit, not hair) and weakly unsummon CWhiteblade, vowing to never, EVER ask this of him again. 	

Unconfirmed