As the Hillsborough River took on its annual St. Patrick’s Day glow, most residents saw a festive tradition. One man saw opportunity.

Specifically, the return of what he calls “Leprechaun fish.”

“I’ve been tracking this for years,” said a St. Petersburg resident who arrived before sunrise with a folding chair, a net, and what appeared to be a cereal bowl. “People think the green dye is just for show. That’s how they keep you from noticing what comes next.”

According to the man, the river’s transformation signals the start of a brief but highly anticipated migration of small, bright green fish that he insists taste “exactly like Lucky Charms marshmallows, but with a hint of the Gulf.”

“They’re sweet. Not like fish. More like cereal,” he said, scanning the water with intense focus. “First bite throws you off. Second bite, you’re in. Third bite, you start thinking about your future.”

That future, he claims, includes what he describes as a “very lucrative bathroom experience.”

Local officials say there is no evidence that “leprechaun fish” exist and reiterated that the dye used in the river is non-toxic and purely decorative. They declined to comment on whether anyone has ever attempted to eat anything emerging from the water.

Nearby onlookers were divided.

“I think he’s just eating bait,” one woman said, watching from a safe distance. “But he does seem very confident.”

The man, however, remains undeterred. He says the fish only appear for a narrow window after the river is dyed and require patience, commitment, and what he called “a strong belief in digestive upside.”

“People laugh,” he said. “Then they see what happens after you eat six.”

He declined to elaborate further, though he did gesture vaguely toward a small bucket labeled “Phase Two.”

Online, the theory has gained modest traction, with several commenters claiming distant relatives once experienced “unexpected financial benefits” after consuming similar fish in unspecified locations.

Marine biologists contacted for comment said there is no known species of fish that tastes like marshmallows or that leads to pooping gold under any circumstances.

“That is not a thing,” one said. “None of that is a thing.”

Still, the man insists science has simply not caught up.

“They said the same thing about a lot of stuff,” he said. “Electricity. Boats. Cereal.”

As the day went on and no visible Leprechaun fish appeared, he remained seated, occasionally tossing what looked like colorful cereal pieces into the water “to encourage them.”

“I’ll wait,” he said. “You don’t rush something like this.”

At press time, he reported “early signs” but declined to confirm whether they were visual or gastrointestinal in nature.

‍

‍