367: Irish folklore: Daft Monk

This week, on Myths and Legends, we're in Irish folklore about a monk who gives it all up to follow a dream, a dream to be a writer and a poet.

And we'll see how singing poetry and writing short stories about Bacon Lad put him in mortal danger.

The creature this week is that hairy stranger watching you on the road, who might be a secret giraffe.

This is Myths and Legends, episode 367: Daft Monk.

This is a podcast where we tell stories from mythology and folklore.

Some are incredibly popular stories you might think you know, but with surprising origins.

Others are tales that might be new to you, but are definitely worth a listen.

This is actually a fairly famous story from medieval Ireland.

And pay attention, because if you memorize it, you can get a free cow.

You'll have to take it up with the king or steward or prince or something.

We'll jump jump in with a kingdom that has a big problem.

And that problem, well, it's brunch.

Okay, so the king's breakfast order, you ready?

Here we go.

A pig, a cow, a bull calf, three score cakes of pure wheat, that's 60 cakes, 6-0, and a vat of new ale, and you stopped writing.

Why did you stop writing?

The warrior asked the new chef.

The chef said, because that was ridiculous.

A cow?

What parts of the cow?

You know that's everything from hamburgers to filet mignon.

Also, you're clearly messing with me.

60 cakes?

I would have to get up at 2 in the morning to start that.

Well, why do you think you were hired so quickly?

The warrior said.

Then two servants burst through the door behind them.

carrying between them the emaciated exhausted corpse of the previous chef.

The warrior spun around.

Back door!

Take him out the back door!

He was doing the welcome orientation.

Standing there with the sound of the pair shuffling away, the warrior smiled at the new chef, who was about as loquacious as the former chef.

Welcome aboard.

It's graduation day.

Enir McConnelly, the young scholar in training, heard his professor bellow as his teacher sat atop the wagon.

Enir said it was, but that wasn't for like three more years.

Nope, it's today.

Congrats, scholar Enir.

The scholar clapped.

He turned to his servants.

Were they ready to go yet?

Why am I my distinguished colleague?

The professor asked.

Well, that's because he was retiring, going north.

It was now a time of famine.

It was famine time.

The newly minted scholar, Enir, pointed at the fields of wheat.

Things were fine, though.

He had storehouses full of all slated for the King of Munster, King Cathol's brunches, the scholar said.

Enir pointed to the barn full of livestock.

Snacks.

Enir asked how any of this made sense.

How could one kingdom King?

The teacher interrupted his colleague.

The people who arrived were very apologetic, and they wanted it to be known that it wasn't them.

They didn't want this any more than he did.

Anyway, he was going north.

He would try to do the scholar thing there, though at this rate, he couldn't imagine Ireland being safe for too long.

Bye, colleague.

The professor waved as the horses cuttered him and his belongings over the northern hills.

The rumors of Ireland's demise were greatly exaggerated.

For the next year, there were rumblings in the south that King Cathy was consuming everything he could get his hands on, and most things he couldn't.

But that didn't concern Enir, who had taken his vows and was now a monk.

What did concern Aenir was done?

Ainier gripped the edges of his desk and flung it against the wall, shattering everything.

Even the books somehow.

His fellow monks leapt up and what was that?

That was Enier being done.

The other monk colleague said, No, yeah, they gathered that much, but why?

Enir gestured all around to the room full of perennially moist stones.

This this was what they were going to be doing for the rest of their lives, hunched over in a room full of shadows, wasting away both metaphorically and literally.

There was a life out there that was passing them by day by day.

His fellow scholars chuckled.

Oh

it was one of those.

One of those what does it all mean and is this it?

breakdowns.

A midlife crisis at twenty five, which somewhat tracked for life expectancy in the Middle Ages.

A new hairstyle, maybe a new horse, he would feel better.

Well, not better, but resigned to his fate.

Nope, Aenir said.

He needed more.

He wanted to live.

The monks laughed.

What more was there to life than copying books into other books for the handful of rich guys who wouldn't read them anyway?

He couldn't leave.

If he left, he would see how good he had it here.

Ennui and malaise were a product of having too much time on his hands to think.

Once he was miserable, working by the sweat of his brow and the toil of his hands, he would long to sit all day in this cool, dank room.

Enier shook his head.

No, he was gonna be rich.

He was going to be a poet.

The monks looked at each other, then

back to him.

Really?

A poet.

And that was going to bring him riches.

Enir said, yeah.

They said, no, no, it wouldn't.

Even in the Middle Ages, that is not how that worked.

Enir said he would show them.

He would be the greatest poet this land had seen, and he would have white meats.

Yes, I'm greedy and hungry for white meats, the now poet said.

And yeah, a version from the 1800s tells us that he was very hungry for white meats, and it was central to his motivation.

Enir gathered his things and sold what little he owned for two wheat cakes and a piece of bacon.

That night, he shaped two hide shoes for himself, and the following morning, he was gone.

Enier scratched his legs and studied the smattering of scarlet splotches.

He lifted the blanket and saw a scurrying.

He groaned and laid back.

Fleas.

Fleas and lice.

Fantastic.

When he arrived in Cork, the biggest city in the region, he knew he would have to lower his expectations a bit.

He had come from a well-to-do monastery that was supported by many nobles and had been living for free.

Now he had to pay his own way.

And the only place that he could afford was, well, nothing.

He couldn't afford anything.

He found charity in the guesthouse attached to a monastery, one several orders of magnitude more dismal than even the worst place in his former one.

It was infested with fleas and lice, had a door that didn't block the wind or the dirt or the snow from flying in, a neighbor that just bought a drum set, and, worst of all, not only no white meats, no any meats, no any food.

The monks had completely neglected their duties to their guest, and he had been sitting hungry for days.

So Enir, having nothing more to do than sit and stew on his self-inflicted misfortune, on the snow and rain that blew underneath the door, on the fleas that feasted on his flesh, seethe.

Enir shook his head.

He knew what this was.

The local monks and scholars were slow to help him on account of him abandoning the church and giving up on his studies to become a poet and soft renouncing Christianity.

And here shook his head.

Just because he wasn't copying verses each day didn't mean he couldn't psalm better than any of them.

He could psalm all day and all night.

In fact, that was what he would do.

He unhooked his satchel from the wall and flipped open the book inside and he was right.

He could psalm like the best of them.

Now, if you didn't know, Psalms is a book of the Bible purportedly by Kings David and Solomon, and it's full of songs and poetry.

And while many people have sung psalms throughout the history of the Christian church, in the Middle Ages, monks were the primary praisers, and some monasteries would chant a 30,000-word long book weekly.

None with as much vitriol, though, as Enir.

When people came by to shout at him, heckle him, or beg him to please, it was three in the morning, stop shouting psalms so loud the entire city of Cork can hear them, they were met with, well, louder psalms.

Finally, the monks of the monastery, after many complaints from the local petty king, asked him to please stop.

They would give him anything to stop.

They found the door open, Enir rocking back and forth, psalms screeching from his throat.

I brought you your meal, the attendant waved.

He had some flint and wood, some peat and some wheat biscuits, and some whey water.

Enir stopped and

light of the monastery reflecting off his eyes in the darkness, he turned to look at the novice.

He waited too long, so his psalms would continue until dawn.

He took a deep breath, and the novice flung himself to his knees, begging the man to please.

It was too many psalms.

He needed to stop the psalming.

Enir looked at his oat cakes and whey water.

A smile curled on his cheeks.

Fine, no Bible?

Poetry, then.

This is a quote from an 1800s version of the story.

It begins, Cork, sour is its sand, its soil is sand, food there is none in it.

Unto doom I would not eat, unless famine befell them.

The oaten rations of cork, corks, oaten rations.

Along with thee, carry the bread.

Woe worth him who eats this ration.

That is my say, my lad.

Um,

quick note: if we're workshopping it, even accounting for differences in taste and time period, Anier probably should have stuck with the scholarly work.

The abbot of the monastery, though, would not agree with me, because Anier's insult poetry regarding food and cork and the quality of its soil was too good.

And that was terrible.

We'll see the repercussions of Anier's poetry, but that will be read after this.

This is where projects come to life our showrooms are designed to inspire with the latest products from top brands curated in an inviting hands-on environment and a team of industry experts to support your project we'll be there to make sure everything goes as planned from product selection to delivery coordination at ferguson bath kitchen and lighting gallery your project is our priority Discover great brands like cafe appliances at your local Ferguson showroom.

So what do this animal

and this animal

and this animal

have in common?

They all live on an organic valley farm.

Organic Valley dairy comes from small organic family farms that protect the land and the plants and animals that live on it from toxic pesticides, which leads to a thriving ecosystem and delicious, nutritious milk and cheese.

Learn more at OV.coop and taste the difference.

This is Jana Kramer from Windown with Jana Kramer.

Parents, can we talk diapers?

Honest, new, and improved clean, conscious diapers totally changed the game for us.

We haven't had leaks or irritation and way less stress.

They offer up to 100% leak protection with Comfort Dry technology.

Plus, they're hypoallergenic and fragrance-free.

These diapers are designed to protect delicate skin and the comfort next level.

We're talking super stretchy, sides, cloud soft feel, and adorable prints.

Trust me, once you try honest, there's no going back.

You can find honest Diapers at Walmart, Target, and Amazon.

This ad brought to you by Honest.

Ready to take advantage of an incredible deal at Mazda?

September is the final month of eligibility for federal $7,500 electric vehicle lease cash on the new Mazda CX70 and CX90 plug-in hybrid.

All Mazda current inventory is unaffected by new tariffs.

See your local Mazda dealer for details.

$7,500 electric vehicle lease cash offer expires at the end of September.

Don't miss out.

$7,500 lease customer cash good toward 2025 CX70 PHEV and CX90 PHEV when leasing through Mazda Financial Services.

Lease customer cash can be combined with other public offers, including lease incentive offers.

Lease customer cash cannot be combined with APR or other customer cash offers.

Lease customer cash is not redeemable as cash or cash back option.

Lease customer cash is only available on approved credit.

Not all customers will qualify for credit approval or offer.

Limit one discount per customer per vehicle.

Lease customer cash offer only available in United States regardless of buyer's residency.

Void reprohibited.

Apply within the lease structure as a capital cost reduction.

Lease customer cash is only available on participating Mazda dealer's current inventory, which is subject to availability.

Offer ends 930-2025, and you must take delivery prior to expiration of offer.

See Participating Mazda Dealer for complete details.

Amir had shouted the verses almost as loud as he had shouted the Psalms.

By the time the novice made it back to the abbot's quarters and caught his breath, the verses were bouncing off the stone in the abbey's corridors, accompanied by laughs.

The abbot paced, no, no, no, no, little boys will sing those verses unless the words are avenged on him who made them.

The church's response to, frankly, this fairly toothless and legitimate critique of the church's own food situation, well,

it was a bit heavy-handed.

Enier was to be whipped until, quote, his flesh and skin break and sever from his bones.

Then, he was to be dunked in the water of the Lee River, then stripped naked and made to sleep in the guest house with only the lice-ridden blanket, And then he would be crucified.

Also, the little boys would not sing his verses.

And that's what happened.

Almost.

The whipping and the water and the lice blanket happened.

And even the other monks thought that all that was a bit much.

In crucifixion, that what?

Were they sure they weren't the bad guys in this situation?

Because crucifying a religious figure,

even if he was just a monk with a number one hit song, felt like something they, in particular, should should not do.

Like maybe they should have learned from that.

Abbott Mansion, though, wouldn't hear it.

No, this man defamed the church and his punishment was death and

he looked up.

Shoot.

They had spent all day in the forest.

You see, Enir was forced to cut and build the cross on which he was to be crucified for his mean words.

And Enir, either because he was still bleeding from the beating the previous night or wanting to put as much time in between now and his crucifixion as possible, kind of dragged his feet.

The sun went down on the Sunday, and the monks had to return to the monastery.

Mansion, the abbot, seethed.

All right.

Enir was to be bound to a boulder, and he would continue working at first light.

I had a dream, a vision, an angel of the Lord spoke to me and showed me how to save Cork from King Cathal, Enir said when the monks began to untie him the following morning.

Hold up, one of the local king's soldiers said to the monks.

What?

Enir turned to the man.

King Cathal is visiting soon, right?

The soldiers said, yes, everyone knows that and is low-key evacuating town.

I can save the city, but you must take me to the king immediately, Enir said.

The abbot stepped in front of him.

This is an obvious stall tactic.

The former monk just didn't want to be crucified.

Kind of, can you blame him?

The soldier who had been sent by the king to oversee that this crucifixion for mean words was being carried out legally said.

But

a monk saying he had a vision from an angel about how to stop King Cathal, he had to call this in.

Crucifixion is on hold, everyone.

Pause the crucifixion.

Collective groans went up from the people assembled to watch a horrible execution, because entertainment choices were limited in those times, and Enir was taken before the local king.

The petty king, when he saw the rough shape Enir was in, maybe thought that he should have another talk with the abbot about extrajudically executing people, but he had other, bigger, more existential problems to worry about.

King Cathal was coming.

King Cathal, the high king of Munster, would destroy them all.

He would, quite literally, eat the petty king out of house and home.

What's your plan?

Enir exhaled as he took a seat.

The petty king shrugged, burn down his castle and run north as fast as he could.

Enir shrugged, not a terrible plan, but he had a better one.

The petty king stood there, so

what was it?

Because if it wasn't good, he had to get to burning and Enir had to probably go back to being crucified.

Enir said that that wasn't how this was going to work.

What would the king give him to not be bankrupt and utterly destroyed?

A sheep from every foal between Karn and Cork?

The petty king said compared to the alternative?

Absolutely, sure.

Enir nodded with a smile, leaned into the king's ear with a cupped hand, and explained his plan with a

They were just tying King Cathol's shoes.

The petty king paced the floor.

They already had dinner, which cost him almost everything.

The petty king found crossed spears, keeping him in the throne room, and a king that was downing an apple every few seconds.

Shoe tying was hungry business.

Well, not even shoe-tying, having your shoes tied, really.

Because King Cathol of Munster was not going to tie his own shoes.

Please, he was too busy eating for that.

For shoe-tying, he needed an an entire bushel of apples.

A peck is a quarter of a bushel, and a peck is about 28 apples, so a bushel is well over 100.

During all this, Anir was juggling.

He had to have a reason to be in the room, and those reasons were juggling, satire, singing songs, and buffoonery.

Now, buffoonery is vague, and while no amount of research yields this etymology, The public domain version of the story uploaded to the Internet Archive has buffoonery underlined and, in the margins, in beautiful penmanship, is just written farting.

So, probably not, but it's my own head canon that Anir was working the room with juggling and fart jokes.

A true professional.

Enir wanted to get the lay of the land, to see what he was up against.

What surprised Anir so much was how normal the king looked.

Almost malnourished for someone who ate a cow for breakfast and a hundred apples while having his shoes tied.

Enir took a deep breath.

It was time.

He dropped the balls in his hands and his farts grew silent.

He started smacking his lips.

The court finally took notice, when Enir ran to the corner, grabbed a whetstone, against which swords were sharpened, and started biting down on it furiously, grinding his own teeth against the stone.

King Cathol stopped eating for a moment to look at the young man.

Um what was the scholar guy doing?

I grieve to see you eating alone, Enir said, before getting back to gnawing.

The king's hand trembled for a bit, but he shook his head and exhaled sharply, before grabbing an apple, then two, and rolling them across the hall to the scholar.

The whole court gasped in unison.

What in the for three and a half years the king had not performed such an act of generosity and humanity.

Enir raised an apple and smiled in thanks to the king.

The king was so honored that the young man thought of him that he said, in between literal mouthfuls of apples, that anything the young man asked would be granted to him.

And this, being a folk tale set in the Middle Ages, was a big deal promise.

This was like where the king offers anything and then comes to regret it.

Complete blank check promises that no way ever fast with me, Enir asked, then took another bite of the apple.

Backfire, the king finished his sentence.

Fast, but just tonight, like most people have to do.

Then tomorrow, we'll break the fast together.

Enir smiled again.

The king said, But but why?

Enir said it didn't matter why.

But let's just say it was to make tomorrow's breakfast that much more enjoyable.

The king said that he

fasted every day.

He went five, almost seven minutes between meals.

He was good.

He

promised.

And while he cared about his meals, he might have recognized that he had to be a man of his word.

Also, it just worked out that the petty king was completely out of food and had to go rustle up some cattle for breakfast in the morning.

So the king agreed.

Yes, he would just have to eat double cows and pigs and cake for breakfast.

Everyone was in on it now, which was why, instead of wheeling in the breakfast buffet, like the king commanded, the warriors rushed the room, dragged the king from bed by his beard, and shoved him upright on a pillar.

He was surprisingly strong for a middle-aged king who never worked out, and it took nearly 10 warriors to finally bind him against the pillar.

Then, the scholar, Anir, walked in.

The king howled that this was treason.

Where were his warriors?

The scholar said that they had awoken with knives to their throats.

They were really easy to subdue, though.

Very hungry.

That's a problem.

The king wouldn't be lectured on how to run his own kingdom from an assassin and a traitor.

They were to let him go this instant, and maybe he would reward him with a swift death.

Oh, I fully plan on letting you go, Anir said.

What?

After you kill me?

the king snarled.

No, after I tell you about a dream I had, Enir said.

Despite the king maybe wanting Enir to kill him instead of listening to someone talk unsolicited about their dream, he

didn't have much of a choice.

Then the smell.

Enir waved, and the servants rolled in meat on a spit and a bowl of honey.

As Enir told the story, he sliced off a bit of meat and dipped it in the honey.

He would take it past King Cathol's mouth and then put it in his own.

Enir nibbled the meat on the stick and began his story.

We'll see the story that might just save a kingdom, but that will, once again, be right after this.

So what do this animal

and this animal

and this animal

have in common?

They all live on an Organic Valley farm.

Organic Valley dairy comes from small organic family farms that protect the land and the plants and animals that live on it from toxic pesticides, which leads to a thriving ecosystem and delicious, nutritious milk and cheese.

Learn more at OV.co-op and taste the difference.

Let's be real.

Life happens.

Kids spill.

Pets shed.

And accidents are inevitable.

Find a sofa that can keep up at washable sofas.com.

Starting at just $699, our sofas are fully machine washable inside and out.

So you can say goodbye to stains and hello to worry-free living.

Made with liquid and stain-resistant fabrics.

They're kid-proof, pet-friendly, and built for everyday life.

Plus, changeable fabric covers let you refresh your sofa whenever you want.

Neat flexibility?

Our modular design lets you rearrange your sofa anytime to fit your space, whether it's it's a growing family room or a cozy apartment.

Plus, they're earth-friendly and trusted by over 200,000 happy customers.

It's time to upgrade to a stress-free, mess-proof sofa.

Visit washablesofas.com today and save.

That's washablesofas.com.

Offers are subject to change and certain restrictions may apply.

So, what do this animal

and this animal

and this animal

have in common?

They all live on an organic valley farm.

Organic Valley dairy comes from small organic family farms that protect the land and the plants and animals that live on it from toxic pesticides, which leads to a thriving ecosystem and delicious, nutritious milk and cheese.

Learn more at OV.co-op and taste the difference.

Life's messy.

We're talking spills, stains, pets, and kids.

But with Anibay, you never have to stress about messes again.

At washablesofas.com, discover Anibay Sofas, the only fully machine washable sofas inside and out, starting at just $699.

Made with liquid and stain-resistant fabrics.

That means fewer stains and more peace of mind.

Designed for real life, our sofas feature changeable fabric covers, allowing you to refresh your style anytime.

Neat flexibility?

Our modular design lets you rearrange your sofa effortlessly.

Perfect for cozy apartments or spacious homes.

Plus, they're earth-friendly and built to last.

That's why over 200,000 happy customers have made the switch.

Upgrade your space today.

Visit washable sofas.com now and bring home a sofa made for life.

That's washable sofas.com.

Offers are subject to change and certain restrictions may apply.

And I'm going to tell you a lot of this completely straight from the original, because I worry that you'll think I'm elaborating or making you think it's somehow more ridiculous than it is.

You have no power of eating, Anir heard in his dream, as the voice sounded in his ear.

He apparently knew what that meant, even though I don't.

The king, though, was more occupied with the scene setting.

Now, real quickly, for the podcast, I like to get to the point.

Podcast writing is different from book writing, so I rarely spend time time elaborating on how a scene looks or feels.

Instead, letting you fill in the details.

Aenier does not share my sentiment.

In the dream, he needed to go to the wizard doctor to regain his power of eating and to find all kinds of, quote, savory, tender, sweet food.

He's definitely not afraid of his adjectives.

But, like any good story, it would require a quest.

a quest full of some light recreational exercise through a land made of food.

In the wide expanse of New Milk Harbor, probably named such because Old Milk Harbor sounds especially gross, he found a juicy little coracle, a Welsh or Irish boat, made of beef.

Its thwarts were curds, its prow lard, stern butter, and oars made of venison.

Passing rivers of beef broth, over swelling waves of buttermilk, and past pools of lard and islands of cheese, Anir found himself at the land o' early eating,

in front of the wizard doctor's hermitage.

There was a gate of cream, not sure how that works, even under dream logic, and it was secured with a bolt of sausage.

It was after opening those things that he found the doorkeeper, Bacon Lad, son of Butterkin's son of Lardipol.

Despite being made of bacon, he wore shoes of dried bacon.

Do not think about that in an analogous way to human flesh.

It will only gross you out.

Bacon Lad had a tunic of corned beef and a girdle of salmon skin and a hood of flummery, which is sort of like a fruity moose I think I've not had it the story is at least consistent in that the horse underneath bacon lad was also made out of bacon it had honey eyes and custard legs both the horse and bacon lad led an ear through the door to see the wizard doctor but the wizard doctor was busy setting his house in order his house where the walls and roof and everything else were tripe or cow stomach he was wearing gloves made of rump steak anir walked into the kitchen where, in a lake of whey, the wizard doctor's son was angling for meat.

When his line caught, he would bring up a fillet of corned beef or a serving of ham.

Then he lost his balance and tumbled into the cloudy, lumpy liquid.

Anir waited long after the bubbles stopped coming up and started to think that maybe the wizard doctor's son wasn't doing all right.

When a body floated to the surface of the whey, this was all but confirmed.

He decided to get out of the kitchen and, back to the main room, found the wizard doctor was finished with his wall slash charcuterie board.

Enir sat on a bench of butter and kept sitting, farther and farther, sinking into the butter, unable to move his hands or pull himself out.

And as his head dipped under and the butter poured in his mouth, he was unable to scream or even breathe.

Four strong men pulled him out by his hair, and he was looking into the eyes of the wizard doctor himself.

Anir knew that this was his chance.

He said he had a disease.

He had no power of eating, which was clarified to mean that he couldn't eat.

Even with all these things around him, which, yes, are actually supposed to read as extremely delicious and tempting.

Every bit of this story is supposed to be mouth-watering.

Sorry if you're on a diet, and I just made things more difficult by describing walls lined with cow stomachs and bacon lads horse with honey eyes.

The cure, at least from the wizard doctor, was simple enough.

We're not gonna linger too long because all this is nonsense anyway, and I linked the sources so you can feel free to read and interpret this all you want.

But the cure to not being able to eat was, yes, eating.

Eight morsels with eight types of grain covered with eight types of condiments and drink only as much milk as eight men would drink.

Now, the wizard doctor rested his hand on Anir's shoulder.

Quote, go now, said he, in the name of cheese, and may the smooth, juicy bacon protect thee, may the yellow curdy cream protect, may the cauldron full of pottage protect thee.

And that's how, Aneir said, eating the seventh morsel dipped in honey, I was cured.

I think we should do more things in the name of cheese, he turned to all the courtiers.

What do you guys think?

They thought that this was a delightful journey to a whimsical world that they wanted more of.

Maybe a franchise of the food world.

Tell this story, then a a trilogy of the origin of the wizard doctor, maybe a bacon lag kids series.

Anir said that he thought that that was stretching the concept a bit, but what truly mattered was what the king thought.

Cathal?

Cathal?

The story was conflicting in a way that a lot of great art is.

Like a great prestige TV show, the story took place in an enthralling, if slightly confusing world.

The king wanted more, but he also hated how it made him feel.

King Cathal strained against the ropes, screeching.

The story was too good.

He wanted to eat all of it.

Yes, the house made out of tripe, bacon lads' sandals, the pools of lard and beef broth, and yeah, I'm just choosing the least appetizing parts of the story.

It's not an easy task, by the way.

Once again, it's all linked in the show notes.

The last bit of meat dipped in honey lingered in Anir's hands.

King Cathal's eyes followed the dripping morsel as Anir held it aloft, but then the scholar put it on a stick.

He smiled and, poking the flesh through, held it out for King Cathal, but it was just out of reach.

Well,

out of reach of King Cathal, that is.

The King of Munster made a gagging sound, and then his eyes widened.

He made a scream, but no sound came out.

No sound,

only gray claws.

They gripped either side of his mouth as eyes opened in his throat, eyes that matched the hunger of King Cathal.

Enir didn't waste time.

He grabbed the creature that emerged by the neck and pulled him from the throat of the king.

The body seemed to keep growing and growing until the little gray monster was nearly half the size of the king, but out of his mouth.

Cut the ropes, get him out of here.

Enir screamed to the men waiting with their knives.

The king's head hung senseless, and the body strained the ropes.

He was unconscious.

Enir threw the morsels of food into a nearby cauldron, and the monster, the demon, scrambled to them.

Anir turned the cauldron over and pushed it underneath an overhang, where not even the demon inside could budge the iron.

Anir rushed to the wall and, gripping the lanterns, just started smashing them against the wood walls and floors.

The oil sprayed and the splashes ignited as the petty king ran to stop Enir, but it was too late.

His curtains and pillars and floors caught.

His palace would burn.

Okay, why are you arresting me?

Enir felt the boots of the guards when he hit the peat outside.

The petty king screeched that the king was going to eat all his food, just his food, not his palace, not his curtains.

He had lost way more than if he just did nothing at all.

But Cathal is cured.

The demon is dead.

A near pointed to the palace raging with flame in the night, and the figure, the one that was black against the night sky and sat above the palace.

Oh,

you know what I think the problem was?

Anir said.

That you tried to destroy a demon with fire?

The king cried, nearly pulling out his hair.

Three and a half years I have brought ruin to Munster, and three and a half more, and I would have ruined all of Ireland, if not for the nobleness of the monks of Cork, and their wisdom and purity and honesty, and for the worth of the noble and venerable king, and for the abundance of knowledge, if not for those things I would jump into thine throat.

Yes, into you I would go, and they would lash you with dog straps and horse whips, and your hunger would kill thee.

The petty king looked at Anir on the ground, who could only shrug.

His wounds were still bloody after being beaten by the monks, and he had left to do poetry.

He didn't know the noble monks this demon was talking about.

Okay,

Anir said, and making the sign of the cross and quote, threatening the monster with the gospel, not quite sure how that works, but the demon was sure sure how that worked, and it shrieked and fled into the night.

Enir was there when King Cathal awoke, but Enir returned to the church.

He saw that maybe there was a place for him.

He wasn't perfect, but God uses imperfect people for good in this world.

He found joy and solace in his simple work, following God and leading others in uncertain times.

Just kidding.

He left the church to take the petty king up on his offer of all those sheep and became the chief storyteller and meat cutter for King Cathal because, yes, his food world bacon lad story was so good.

But most important of all, he finally got all that white meat.

The story ends saying that if you can recite it from memory, then a king or queen, a married couple, or a prince owe you a spotted red-eared cow, a new linen shirt, and a woolen cloak with a brooch.

I linked it in the show notes in both English and Irish for anyone visiting, I don't know, some kings or nobles and who would like to test that out.

The story was kind of interesting because it varies wildly between versions, with some even cutting out Anir being a monk at all, which...

I guess he kind of wasn't throughout most of the story, but some versions even cut out his insult poetry.

And in some, the vision is more so a religious revelation, and in others, it's possibly his own invention.

I hope I kept it suitably ambiguous.

Next week, it's Indian folklore, and you'll see a husband give his wife a wonderful necklace made out of eyeballs.

If you'd like to support the show, there's still a membership thing on the site.

For less than the price of a back shaver, a safety razor on a stick you rub on your back without being able to see what you're doing at all, There are ad-free and bonus episodes of the show that have less of a danger of going horribly, horribly wrong.

Check out mythpodcast.com slash membership or find us in Apple Podcasts for more info on the membership.

The creature this week is Mikoshi Niyoto from Japan.

Okay, so real quickly, the Mikoshi Nyodo is a monster whose neck grows as you look at it.

It takes the form of an old man, and the whole thing is that you're supposed to keep looking up and up until you fall backwards, and then it sets on your throat like an attack dog who's going through a midlife crisis.

It just gnaws at your throat lazily.

To me, gnawing feels a little slow, a little half-hearted, like it'll get you eventually, but it's hard, isn't it?

Maybe that's just a translation thing and it really just tears your throat out viciously.

Who knows?

If you're thinking, why would I not just run away, or at the very least, if I feel like I'm losing my balance, just not keep looking up at the obvious

Well, yeah, that's how you get out of this whole thing.

That's how you beat it.

You just don't do that one very specific thing that will lead to your death.

That being said, the fact that this thing is out there means enough people probably follow the head all the way up.

Oh, also, you can't just run away.

Sources are unclear on this, but if you want to flee, you have to say, I have seen past you.

If you don't say that, then you'll be crushed by bamboo.

Even if you're not around bamboo, it will fall out of the sky and crush you like a piano on a Looney Tunes cartoon.

The creature is also known to make the sound of a swaying bamboo plant, so maybe they'll just smack you with their necks like a giraffe.

Either way, it's not fun.

The creatures themselves, like I said, look like very hairy old men with loose, wrinkled monk robes.

It's said that, for women in particular, if you go to a toilet at night in a certain prefecture of Japan, a fox will shapeshift into this creature and menace you by asking, wipe your butt, wipe your butt?

He really cares about hygiene in the most intrusive, off-putting way possible.

I guess, in areas where the animals can transform, it's thought that this creature is just an animal playing a fun trick on you, where it gets you to fall back and slowly tears out your throat.

Basically, I know we say don't talk to strangers, especially that hairy guy staring you down on the road, but you might want to mutter, I see past you, before quickly getting on your way.

that's it for this time.

Myths and Legends is by Jason and Carissa Weiser.

Our theme song is by Broke for Free, and the Creature of the Week music is by Steve Combs.

There are links to even more of the music we used in the show notes.

Thank you so much for listening, and we'll see you next time.

So, what do this animal

and this animal

and this animal

have in common?

They all live on an organic valley farm.

Organic valley dairy comes from small organic family farms that protect the land and the plants and animals that live on it from toxic pesticides, which leads to a thriving ecosystem and delicious, nutritious milk and cheese.

Learn more at OV.coop and taste the difference.

I'm not going back to college to be your friend.

I'm going so I can get Uber One for students.

It saves you on Uber and Uber Eats.

I'm there for $0 delivery fee on cheeseburgers, up to 10% off smoothies, and 6% Uber credits back on rides.

Just to be clear, I'm there for savings, not whatever you think college is for.

Get Uber One for students, a membership to save on Uber and Uber Eats.

With deals this good, everyone wants to be a student.

Join for just $4.99 a month.

Savings may vary.

Eligibility and member terms apply.

Tired of spills and stains on your sofa?

WashableSofas.com has your back, featuring the Anibay Collection, the only designer sofa that's machine-washable inside and out, where designer quality meets budget-friendly prices.

That's right, sofas started just $699.

Enjoy a no-risk experience with pet-friendly, stain-resistant, and changeable slip covers made with performance fabrics.

Experience cloud-like comfort with high-resilience foam that's hypoallergenic and never needs fluffing.

The sturdy steel frame ensures longevity, and the modular pieces can be rearranged anytime.

Check out washablesofas.com and get up to 60% off your Anibay sofa, backed by a 30-day satisfaction guarantee.

If you're not absolutely in love, send it back for a full refund.

No return shipping or restocking fees, every penny back.

Upgrade now at washablesofas.com.

Offers are subject to change and certain restrictions may apply.