Monday, October 27, 2008

We who are of noble blood may not follow the wishes of our hearts.

She was suddenly gripped by the embiggened hand of Zeus. As his giant, Kong-like hand engulfed her she thought to herself "I hate it when my husband does this." As much as Hera disliked it when Zeus made himself into a giant, little did she realize her discomfort paled in comparison to that of the Greek poli tending to their sheep in the fields far below Olympus. From their vantage point they had a straight shot up Zeus's giant toga and his enormous, shriveled junk. Hera had no idea how hard it was to worship a King of the Gods that had enormous, shriveled junk.

"Listen you goat-eating bitch," bellowed Zeus. "If I want to have a beer after work with Poseidon and the other guys it's none of your business."

"I refuse to talk about it," hissed Hera. "Until you put me down and make yourself a more manageable size."

Zeus may of been the King of the Gods, Lord of Thunder and Banisher of Cronus to his subjects, but behind the scenes he was derisively referred to as "Lord Pussywhipped" by his Olympian buddies. As he shrunk down to his normal six foot tall frame he gently set his wife onto the marble floor of Olympus. From the fields below the Greek Sheepherders let out a collective sigh of relief.

"Sorry dear," mumbled Zeus. "I haven't had much coffee today."

Hera brushed herself off and glared at Zeus. "Are you sure you were just out having a beer with Poseidon and not playing find the cyclops with some strumpet on Mount Ida?"

Zeus looked like somebody had just peed in his Wheaties. "What makes you say that?"

"Because, my oafish husband, I was that strumpet."

"Impossible," said Zeus. "The woman I was with looked like Elizabeth Taylor circa 'Cleopatra' and you look Elizabeth Taylor circa Michael Jackson."

"I had Aphrodite over to help with a makeover," Hera said through a clenched smile. "She did the hair, the makeup, the whole nine yards."

Zeus sank into his throne, defeated. "The sex was so great, too."

Hera smirked. "Don't flatter yourself."

Now it was Zeus's turn to be gripped by something awful. He was being gripped by fear, a sense of dread and a divine certaintity that his life was going to be very, very bad in the near future. Such is the life of the gods.

6 comments:

Übermilf said...

"Lord Pussywhipped." Snort.

ThoughtCriminal said...

The RNC wants to know how much Aphrodite charges for makeovers.

Randal Graves said...

HA! This is most excellent!

Liberality said...

Queen Pussy with a makeover--"the best sex" he said--"don't flatter yourself" she said.

alol!

Dean Wormer said...

Glad you guys liked it. Thanks!

Freida Bee said...

Of course, all I can fixate on is Zeus's enormous shriveled junk. (I think everyone else was too, they were just too polite to say.)

I think you have created a very apropos metaphor for this current political season. Was Zeus, by any chance, a POW?

A masterpiece. I can sooo see you writing a book of mythological shorts such as these.