Archive for the ‘Alternate Original Snub’ Category

The Going Snubs

August 13, 2005

There.

They are done. All five. Like I promised. So there. Don’t say I never come through. And, Eris wanted me to pass along that each and every version of the Snub story is ‘true’. Life’s like that sometimes.

Isn’t it?

Hail Eris – All Hail Discordia

Original Snub, Version #5

August 12, 2005

Every year on September the 9th the god of excess and righteous partying, Dionysus rose from the dead and threw a swinging bash, held on the peak of Mount Olympus; all of the the gods were invited, from the biggies like Aegis-bearing Zeus, down to the lower level monster gods, like Phorcys, all except for one: Eris, called Strife, goddess of Chaos, Confusion, Comedy and doo-wop tunes.

Dionysus, already completely smashed, climbed onto a tabletop and attempted to quiet the rowdy, drunken, and stoned gods so that he could welcome them all, for the twenty-third time. “My brothers and sisters,” he called out. “Fathers and mothers, cousins, uncles, aunts, lovers and fighters, listen to me for just a fucking second before you go back to your pipes and beer-bongs . . .”

“C’mmn shit on m’face ya big hunka fssszzl mfffllllllllllssssssss-” Pallas Athene said, standing suddenly, and then melting back onto the bench she had been sitting on. The gods and goddesses erupted in boisterous laughter.

“Did she ask me to shit on her face?” Dionysus asked. “It doesn’t matter, I would have, anyway, by the end of the night . . . my glorious friends, I am so happy to be with you all again, and see all of your beautiful faces . . . and beautiful asses, and, and- well, anyway, I want to thank every god and goddess for showing up tonight-“

A bold female voice sounded suddenly throughout the room. NOT EVERY GODDESS WAS INVITED, BUT ALL ARE PRESENT AND ACCOUNTED FOR . . . NOW.

All the heads swung around, some more slowly than others, and wearily looked at the stunningly tall and beautiful goddess standing in the doorway, wrapped in golden robes. “Eh . . . Eh . . . Eh . . .” Dionysus stammered.

ERIS, the goddess of Chaos finished. Dionysus moved down from the table top, and approached the goddess. “I meant to invite you, Eris, you know we’re tight, you and me . . . it’s just that the others . . . they, uh, they get worried about the trouble you cause.”

PAY IT NO MIND, DIONYSUS, I HOLD NO MALICE FOR YOU, OR FOR ANY OF YOU . . . IT IS TO BE EXPECTED. BUT, I BRING YOU A GIFT, AS A TOKEN OF GOODWILL.

Eris held out a long plant with a stem which had five sides, surrounded by five green sepals, and bell shaped flowers hung from it. THIS IS BELLADONNA, ALSO KNOWN AS THE LOVE APPLE . . . ADD SOME OF THIS TO YOUR WINE FOR A REAL KICK, TEQUILA HAS NOTHING ON THIS.

Dionysus took the belladonna from her, looked down at it, and said “Thank you, Eris, that’s very big of you. Would you care to stay?”

NO, I MUST BE GOING . . . CAPTAIN BEEFHEART IS SUPPOSED TO BE PLAYING AT THE MONTEREY POP FESTIVAL, I HAVE TO GO SLIP HIM SOME ACID TO FUCK IT UP . . . IF HE PLAYS THERE HE’LL BECOME HUGE AND LOSE ALL HIS CULT CRED. TA TA . . .

And, with that she was gone. Dionysus turned and looked at the all the faces around him, quadrupled visually by the chemicals flowing through his white god blood. “Should we?” he asked.

Aegis-bearing Zeus stood, wobbly, and said: “Gimme that fucking plant with all speed . . . no mere flower frightens the king of all gods, no matter what the effect.” Then snatched the belladonna from Dionysus’ grip, crushed them up barehanded, and sprinkled the remains into a large decanter of wine. The wine was passed around, and all of the gods took a goblet full, even Pallas Athene, who was looking a rather unattractive shade of chartreuse.

After a few minutes Apollo said, “Oohh, I’m FeeLinG iT . . .” and began to run his fingers through his gossamer hair. White-armed Hera sat forward and said “I dOn’T FeeL AnytHiNG!” while twisting her lip around between her fingers. Aegis-bearing Zeus stood, and placed his fingers to his temples. “Do yOu FeEL thAt?” he asked the assembled gods and goddesses. “Do yOu See ThAT? dO You hEAr tHat?”

All the divine beings quieted down, and listened, and looked, and felt . . . and just as Hera repeated “I DOn’T FeEL ANyThiNG!” all of them began to share a single hallucination. In the hallucination they saw the world, and the world was perfectly quiet . . . the view zoomed in closer and they could see Athens and Sparta, the buildings, the trees, the animals . . . but it was all so quiet. “WhERe iS eveRYoNe?” Aphrodite asked. “WHy Is iT sO QuiET?” asked Hephaestus. “I dOn’T FeeL ANYTHiNG!” cried Hera.

Then, they did see people, walking glumly here and there, chatting mundanely about the weather, which was always good. They saw more and more people, until the humans were walking shoulder to shoulder, all with blank expressionless eyes. They saw children picking up toys of horses, and then tossing them over cliffs into the sea, watching them as they washed away. They saw people who simply stared at a single spot for hours and hours until falling asleep.

“WHat IS tHiS?” cried Demeter. “IT’s aWFul!”

Pallas Athene called out then, and sounded much more like her usual self: “DoN’t ANy oF YOu sEE? aRE yoU aLL so BliND? IT is A vISion oF a WoRLd WIthouT StrIFE. THe poPUlaTionS aRE grOWinG ToO LArge aNd pEOPle Are BecOMinG jaDeD . . .”

“ArE tHEre nO PoeTS, oR musICIans?” asked Apollo. Athena turned to him, saying, “WHat woULd thEY teLL ABout? WHat woULd thEY sInG ABout? HoW PInk tHIs fLowEr iS cOMparEd to THat? iT is A woRLD oF TEDiuM . . . LiFE haS no MeanINg fOr tHEm . . . THeY haVE no LowS tO coMParE to tHe hIGhs . . . iT IS maDNess”

Dionysus looked at Athena, and then at Zeus. “WE weRe foolS.” he said, simply, and quietly. “WE trEAted OUr siSTEr Eris LiKE an OUtCast . . . liKe heR CONtributIONs WErE WorTHlEss . . . WHen REallY . . .”

” . . . THey MEan EVeryTHinG.” Athena finished. “MOraLiTy, HAppINess, BEAutY, ArT . . . All aRe basEd oN STrife.”

White-armed Hera looked at all of the other gods and goddesses while they pondered this, and after a pause said: “I dOn’T FeeL ANYTHiNG.”

High above the temple of Dionysus, Eris chuckled to herself, and floated up high high high into the sky.

Original Snub, Version #4

August 11, 2005

Aegis-bearing Zeus’ annual marble competition was well renowned throughout the worlds of the gods, and every deity worth their salt was invited, from Jehovah to Odin, except for one: Eris called Strife, goddess of Chaos, Confusion, Calamity and paperclips.

Zeus stood near the mound, and held up his prize marble, made from the clearest diamond, with a tiny Gorgon head placed inside. Light from Apollo’s flaming chariot in the sky glinted off the surface and scorched into the divine retinas of the holy beings gathered. “With this glorious marble I shall once again take the championship . . . I will crush all of the opposition, and claim all your marbles. What say you all? Who is ready?”

Jehovah walked forward, and tossed his long grey beard over his shoulder, pulling out his new marble. It appeared to be a rough-hewn stone. “This marble of mine is a stone that was used to bash out the brains of a heathen who dared to not believe in me. That, I will not stand for. I must be acknowledged as supreme ruler of the entire universe, and all who do not bow to me will be crushed out of existence and roasted in the burning brimstone pits of hell, which I conveniently created for just such a purpose. But, also let it be known that I am a loving god.”

“Yes yes yes,” said Zeus. “We all know about your worship complex, and your bipolar disorder . . . very very very old news. Are you ready to lose that pebble to me? Who else shall play?”

Odin stepped forward, squinting heavily. “I will play you, you miserable letch. See this, I have plucked mine own eye from my head, knowing it will give me all the power and knowledge I need to stomp your sorry ass. This time I shall not be beaten, and will be able to retire to Valhalla in peace.”

“In pieces, is more like it, if you keep up talking that sort of rot,” Zeus snarled at Odin. He turned and gazed over the faces of the other gods and goddesses. “Who else shall play marbles with me and lose?”

I SHALL PLAY, came a loud husky female voice. BUT I DO NOT INTEND TO LOSE.

Zeus wheeled around, and stared at a tall goddess with wild blonde and black hair dancing in the breeze. One eye was blue and the other was green. “Eris Nancy Discordia!” cried Aegis-bearing Zeus. “Of all the nerve! I deliberately did not invite you, you always fuck around with the marbles while they are on the playing area . . . more than once my dominance has been brought into question due to your fucking around. Forget it, you are not playing. Leave the mound!”

Eris smiled sweetly. PLEASE DO NOT BLAME ME BECAUSE YOU ARE COCK-EYED . . . THE ONLY REASON AT ALL YOU CONSTANTLY WIN IS BECAUSE THE OTHERS CANNOT BARE TO LISTEN TO YOUR WHIMPERING WHEN YOU LOSE. THEY FIND IT TEDIOUS AND BORING . . . I DO NOT, BECAUSE I, MYSELF, AM NOT BORING, AND ERGO CANNOT BE BORED . . . ON THE CONTRARY, I FIND IT RATHER GIGGLE-INDUCING.

Zeus snarled: “Just get the fuck out of here, with all speed.”

NOT A PROBLEM, BUT BEFORE I GO PERHAPS ONE OF THE OTHER GODS WOULD LIKE TO USE MY LUCKY GOLD MARBLE IN MY PLACE? and Eris held up a beautiful and glittering golden sphere, which had etched in the side “For The Luckiest”.

Jehovah and Odin both stepped forward at the same moment. “I’ll take it.” Jehovah said, just as Odin cried the same thing. Dionysus and Thor both jumped forward at that moment, but Jesus Christ jumped onto their backs and knocked their heads together.

DON’T FIGHT, CHILDREN, Eris called out, LET’S DO IT FAIRLY . . . and with a wide arc in her swing, Eris tossed the gold marble high into the clear blue sky and screamed: SCRAAAAAAAAAMBLE!

Every single god and goddess on the mound made a mad jump at where they thought the marble would land, many an elbow bloodied many a mouth, and several fingers grabbed fistfuls of hair and pulled. Teeth bit, nails scratched. Zeus’ prize marble rolled out of the ruckus, covered in white god blood, and Eris picked it up, wiped the blood off on her robes, and floated up into the sky, laughing uproariously.

Original Snub, Version #3

August 11, 2005

A few nights before the wedding of Thetis to Peleus, doe-eyed Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, threw a bachelorette party for the beautiful bride in her temple on Mount Olympus. Amidst the pink silken curtains and plump pillows sat every goddess in creation, save one; Eris, called Strife, for she was a known shit disturber of the highest order.

As Artemis stepped into the room, Aphrodite stood and called out: “Alright my sisters, we are all here . . . let the merrymaking begin! Let down your hair, light the incense. Spill the wine, take that pearl! Let the presents be exchanged.”

White-armed Hera stood and said, “Let Thetis, daughter of Poseidon, open my gift first for I am the wife of Aegis-bearing Zeus.”

There was some grumblings amongst the women, but Hera’s attitude was expected. Thetis took Hera’s gift and opened it, revealing an elaborate girdle with lewd etchings depicted on the front and back. All the goddesses giggled loudly, save Pallas Athene, who smiled politely but thought herself above such bawdiness. She stood next, and called out, “Thetis, as the virgin goddess I would take this opportunity to promote abstinence to you, by giving you the gift of a chastity belt – wear it in good conscience!

Athena held the chastity belt high in the air, and then lowered it down to Thetis, who gazed upon it as if holding cow dung in her hand. Aphrodite also glowered at it. “Couldn’t you at least have wrapped it?” she asked.

Athena stared coldly at her sister, then took her seat again.

“Alright,” Aphrodite said, with a sigh. “Who’s next?”

I AM. called out a loud, raucous voice. All the heads turned to see Eris, goddess of Chaos, Confusion, Comedy and public transit ads. I HAVE A GIFT FOR THE BRIDE.

“Eris!” Aphrodite cried. “You were not invited! I did not invite you, you hag! This was invitation only! I will not have you wrecking this party like you’ve wrecked all the others!”

DARLING APHRODITE, I HAVE NO INTENTION OF STAYING WHERE MY PRESENCE IS NOT DESIRED, I WILL LEAVE THE MOMENT I HAVE GIVEN MY WEDDING GIFT TO THE LOVELY THETIS. I WOULDN’T DREAM OF FLOODING THIS PARTY, LIKE THE LAST.

Aphrodite said, through clenched teeth: “Dropping my temple into the Aegean Sea is NOT flooding!”

THE BASS ON THAT SOUND SYSTEM WAS MUCH MORE POWERFUL THAN HEPHAESTUS INSINUATED, MY BAD. AT ANY RATE, THE PAST IS DONE WITH, MY DEAR THETIS, TAKE THIS GIFT . . . IF I KNOW PELEUS, YOU WILL NEED IT SOONER, RATHER THAN LATER. USE IT, AS THE OL’ STICK-IN-THE-MUD WOULD SAY, IN GOOD CONSCIENCE.

Eris dropped a large gift to the floor, and turned on her heel and strode from the room. All the goddesses gasped in unison, and gaped at the gift on the floor.

Resting on the marble tile was a gargantuan, elaborate solid gold dildo, hideously detailed and overly realistic. The head of the dildo was enormous, and shaped rather apple like. Emblazoned down the shaft were the words: FOR THE HORNIEST.

Thetis picked the dildo up with two fingers, looked it over, and said: “What did she mean ‘if she knew Peleus’ . . .?” but before she could conclude her thought the dildo was smacked from her hand by Aphrodite, whose cheeks were flushed.

“Wha-?” cried Thetis, in shock.

“Hands of that prick, bitch.” Aphrodite heaved. “Didn’t you read the thing? It says ‘to the horniest’ – and that, sister, is moi. MOI!”

She snatched the dildo up, intending to excuse herself temporarily, and hand to party’s reigns over to Hera, when a spear stabbed her in the wrist, knocking the enormous phallus to the ground again. Aphrodite squealed out in pain as she saw white blood spurt from the wound.

“Stay where you are, trollop.” Pallas Athene said loudly, and placed a foot on the dildo. “I’m as horny as a ten peckered owl, and I will be using this Pan-like appendage with all speed. I am certainly the horniest of all of you.”

Demeter stood. “Athena? You? You think you’re going to use that glorious golden dildo?”

Athena laughed once, cold and brittle. “Hon, while I have this thing the crack of dawn won’t even be safe.”

Demeter stood forward, and grasped the apple-like head. “That’s not,” she said. “what I meant.”

Athena caught Demeter’s hand as it moved toward her head and held it tight, but Hera got her across the jaw at almost the same moment. Persephone held her around the waist, and Aphrodite bit into her thigh.

In the midst of the melee, the dildo rolled out of the room, and was picked up by the hand of a goddess who laughed loud and long as she floated up into the sky.

Original Snub, Version #2

August 9, 2005

High high high up on top of Mount Olympus, where most of the gods live, is the Temple of Pallas Athene. Crowned with a gargantuan gold and silver owl as the roof, to represent Athena herself in all of her glory, the temple stands as a symbol of wisdom and strength to almost all who gaze upon it.

Every year on April 21st (the wisest of all days) Athena called together all of the smartest, grooviest, and most wise gods for a meeting of the minds, to decide what manner the humans should be living; what their morals should represent; how the countries should be divided; what should be forbidden; and who was the wisest of all the gods. The last one was Athena’s favourite, since she always won by a unanimous vote.

On the ‘Day of the Wise’ Athena strolled into the main chamber of her temple and looked around to see if all the gods she had called were present; these gods represented the best minds of her generation, and in attendance were her father, Aegis-bearing Zeus; his brother the Lord of the Underworld, Hades; Lord of Prophesy and Music, Apollo; Lord of the Deep, Poseidon; Master of the Forge, Hephaestus; and Hera who wasn’t particularly wise, but never allowed Zeus out of her site if she could help it.

“Splendid,” said Athena, clapping her hands together. “If all are present, we can begin . . .”

WAIT, called out a large, magnificent, female voice. DON’T START WITHOUT ME . . .

Every god and goddess turned to see the tall beautiful goddess striding into the chamber, holding in her arms a large, brilliantly glittering golden apple. She smiled at all the gods present, and placed the gold apple on a table, while saying MY INVITATION MUST HAVE GOT LOST IN THE MAIL . . .

Athena stared blankly at Eris called Strife, goddess of Chaos, Confusion, Creativity, and Refrigerator Magnets. “Strife, why have you blackened my chambers with your foul presence? It would be impossible for your invitation to have been lost, since none was issued. You scarcely qualify as a goddess, you, in fact, are little more than a personification and certainly should hold no position in my meetings of the Great Minds. Be gone, before I displace your molecules.”

Eris smiled even more widely. She said, loudly: GREAT AND WISE PALLAS ATHENE, I MEANT YOU NO DISRESPECT, AND DIDN’T ACTUALLY DELUDE MYSELF TO BELIEVE I WAS WISE ENOUGH TO GAIN YOUR FAVOUR, NO MATTER HOW MUCH I DREAM OF THE PROSPECT . . . I MERELY WANTED TO ILLUSTRATE MY RESPECT FOR YOU AND YOUR CONSORTS BY OFFERING YOU THIS GIFT.

Athena eyed her suspiciously, knowing her reputation as a shit disturber, and asked slowly, “What is it?”

ONE AS WISE AS YOU SHOULD KNOW A PRIZE WHEN SHE SEES ONE, GREAT PALLAS ATHENE . . . Eris laughed. WHY SHOULD YOU ALL BE HAPPY MERELY NAMING ONE OF YOU AS THE WISEST OF THE GODS, WHEN YOU COULD JUST AS EASILY GIVE OUT A PRIZE, SO THAT THE GOD MAY HOLD PROOF OF THEIR UNDYING WISDOM, ALL YEAR, UNTIL THE NEXT MEETING. I THINK IT WOULD LOOK SMASHING ON YOUR MANTEL NEXT TO THE PHOTO OF YOURSELF AND APHRODITE RIDING SPACE MOUNTAIN . . . BUT THAT’S JUST A SUGGESTION. FEEL FREE TO DO WHATEVER YOU WISH WITH IT. CONSIDER IT YOURS.

And, with that, Eris turned on her heel, and walked back out of Athena’s chamber. There was a stunned silence for a few moments, and then Athena laughed once, cold and brittle. “Imagine that upstart. Well, let’s get on with the meeting, I’ll just take this apple and get it out of the way-“

“Wait wait wait just a second there, missy.” Zeus said, standing up. “Where do you think you’re going with that?”

“I am taking it to my chambers, father . . . to place on my mantle next to the photo of Aphrodite and I riding Space Mountain.”

“I think not.” he said. “It was intended as a prize. It was meant for all of us.”

“Father,” Athena said, with a certain tone that only daughters can wield. “She said, ‘Consider it yours’, which means mine, MINE. Besides, I am voted most wise each year. I am sure to win again.”

“Oh please,” said Apollo. “You don’t really believe that, do you? You are a fool who knows how to weave . . . crafty and crafty are not the same thing. I see the future, what could be more wise than knowing the future. Give the apple to me.”

Zeus said “I am the greatest of all gods, and the most wise. Athena is wisest only in my absence, which is to say, never. Hand over that fucking apple with all speed.”

Hera stood. “Whatever is my husband’s is also mine. Give it to me.”

“Ha!” said Poseidon. “You couldn’t find your ass with both hands, a map, and a torch . . . if you are in the running let me also be said to be the most wise!”

And with that Poseidon made a leap for the golden apple, which fell off the table to the ground, where Zeus kicked it out of Poseidon’s reach. Apollo caught it in the air, and went to run out the door when Hephaestus clobbered him with a large anvil he kept around for occasions such as this. Athena jumped on his back, and the apple rolled away, against a wall as the gods clawed, bit, scratched, and pummeled each other with every ounce of strength they could muster. As the apple lay silently near the melee, it’s inscription of “For The Wisest” was being splattered by white god blood.

Original Snub, Version #1

August 8, 2005

As Hermes was swinging through the skies a hell of a long time ago, flitting this way and that, inviting all he met to the wedding of Peleus and Thetis, he noticed a young man in an orchard picking delicious apples. This young man was completely nude, as was the habit in those days, and from the hard work he had undertaken was glazed in a fine coating of dewey sweat. Hermes, like almost all Greek men in those days, appreciated the male nude form much more than he appreciated the female nude form, and so swooped down to investigate this young man’s body much more closely. In the back of Hermes’ mind was his mission to invite all to the joyous ceremony which was going to be performed by the grooviest of all gods, aegis-bearing Zeus of the stiff lightening bolts and even stiffer rod. He had only one invitation left to give out, to that of Eris called Strife, and decided that she could wait, all she ever did was cause trouble anyway . . .

“Howdy, my boy,” Hermes said, smiling lasciviously at the young orchard boy. “Those be some mighty big and firm apples you have there . . . are they juicy?”

The young boy was no stranger to innuendo, and saw that this was not simply a conversation about fine produce. He was one of the few men in those days who didn’t care much for the greased wrestling lifestyle, but at the same time knew that boinking a god could get you places . . . true, you might end up becoming a goose or a statue or something else equally ridiculous, but there were also rumours that you could end up living life on Limbo Peak, instead of becoming a shade in the depths of Hades. What was a quick roll in the hay, in exchange for a eternity in the heavens?

“So juicy they could squirt your eye out . . . ” the young man heard himself saying before he had even decided what to say. That was how the gods worked.

Before he could open his mouth to take back what he had said, the god of speed and agility proved his titles by having pounced on the poor lad, and was using him like a child uses a hobby-horse. All thoughts of continuing his mission were suddenly missing from Hermes’ perfect god brain.

This entire episode was being watched from far above by Eris, who secretly ruled everything but allowed others to believe they had something to do with it too, out of her unparalleled modesty. Modest she may be, but she is also very touchy about certain matters of decorum.

She watched Hermes porking the poor orchard boy, clucked with distaste at the stunningly poor performance he showed (and yet somehow kept his reputation as a fantastic lover amongst the Achaeans), and then stood up with shock as the Messenger God dismounted, rolled onto his back in the lush green grass, and fell promptly asleep. She floated down next to his inert body, and began to quiver with rage. THIS, she said. THIS IS THE MESSENGER THAT THE SO-CALLED WISEST OF GODS, THAT FUCKING RAGING HORMONE WITH A THRONE CALLED AEGIS-BEARING ZEUS, SENT TO INVITE ALL OF THE WORLD TO THE BIGGEST PARTY SINCE THE BIG BANG??? THIS LITTLE MILK-SOP?

She looked over at Mount Olympus, and could already hear the music beginning to swell. She could smell the flowers, and could feel the laughter and tears. The wedding was beginning.

Eris had to show that she knew of this outrageous snub, and wasn’t going to take it at all lightly. She had to make an appearance, yet a ingeniously subtle one. Let them know she was there, and yet not really there at all. Perhaps leaving a sarcastic gift would be appropriate?

Then a wicked smile slithered across her glorious lips. One thing could be counted on with the Olympic Gods; not their wisdom, not their power, not their compassion, no, the one thing that could be counted on in all situations was their eternal vanity.

Eris, who is rightfully called Strife, picked up one of the apples at her feet. The delicious fruit turned to gold within her hand, and she gazed at it . . . how to address it? “To Thetis”? That would cause a stir since the other witches would certainly want it, but would their prides let them steal a present from a bride in front of all the guests? Probably, but let’s work with certainties. Perhaps, “To The Lovely Lady”? That certainly leaves some room for uncertainty . . . probably enough to incite idiocy from Hera and Aphrodite, but she wanted more . . . she wanted full-on chaos.

Then it struck her.

The perfect inscription.

She wrote on the words, and then wandered over to Mount Olympus and rolled the apple through the doors, and floated back up into the sky to observe.

Pan, of all gods, found the apple first. He picked it up and read the inscription, “For The Bitchinest” then polished it on his fur, and held it out to look at it again.

Hephaestus noticed it, and leaned over. “S’that?” he asked.

“Oh.” said Pan. “It’s just an apple that someone gave to me. I found it here on the floor.”

Hephaestus leaned closer to get a look, but Pan kept moving it farther away. “Funny,” the lame god said. “I could have sworn it said ‘for the bitchenest'”

Pan said quietly, “It does.”

“Well, hate to say it, chum, but that’s my wife Aphrodite.” Hephaestus said.

“Oh,” said Pan. “You mean that loose slut riding Dionysus’ face over on the punch table? You think it’s for hu——-“

Pan’s last word was crushed by a rather large anvil that Hephaestus happens to carry with him, for situations such as that. He held up the apple, but was struck down by Ares, who believed that he was, in fact, the bitchenest of all the gods. As he grabbed hold of the golden fruit, a spear pierced his wrist and white blood poured out onto the marble floor. Pallas Athene grabbed the apple as it rolled from Ares’ hand, and said “Ta, big bro . . . I’ll take that.”

All the other gods had seen the apple by this point, and had read the infamous inscription, each believing they were the most bitchin of all the gods. And, with that, mayhem ensued.

It was hard to hear the laughter of Eris above the din of all the breaking bones and clashing swords, but she felt her point had been proven.

The Coming Snubs

August 7, 2005

Through a divine revelation from Our Lady Of Discord, I will be taking the few days following this post to re-tell the Original Snub in it’s ‘true’ versions. Five (of course), in all.

The first will be tomorrow, Monday the 8th of August, and the last will be on Friday the 12th of August. The other three will fit somewhere in the middle.

Until tomorrow, Hail Eris!