gasped.
“Try me.”
“Give me . . . that, ” Hera growled as she viciously snatched the apple away from Aphrodite. Grasping it, Hera let out a truly ungoddesslike yelp as her body shook once, violently. Athena redirected her blade at Hera as Aphrodite slapped at Athena’s arms.
“Heeeey!” came a loud screech from the main wine bar.
The crowd quickly parted to reveal Dionysus lying on his stomach on top of the bar, his head turned toward the fracas. His lips were pushed out as his face mashed into the wooden bar top.
“Anyone even consider actually giving it to the— uuurrrrrppp —excuse me, bride?”
The three goddesses gaped at him with blank expressions for a moment, then broke into a simultaneous derisive laugh and went at one another again as the wedding guests watched in astonishment.
Suddenly, as she and Aphrodite were flailing about like children, trying to grab the apple from Hera, Athena paused.
“Listen . . . listen!” She wheezed ever so slightly. “I have an idea.”
“What is it, you big bully?” Aphrodite said.
“We shall allow the assembled populace to decide.”
“Who?” asked Hera.
“The guests, you goat!” said Athena. “We’ll do it the mortal way. We’ll all take a vote.”
“All right,” said Hera after a moment.
“Goody,” said Aphrodite, taking a quick count of all of her suitors and lovers in the room. “I’m a shoo-in.”
The first immortal Athena grabbed was Ocean. As the three goddesses stood before him, Hera began winking wildly, Aphrodite puffed out her stomach to make her magic girdle (known for its seductive powers) a focal point, and Athena rested both hands on the hilt of her sword.
“Choose!” said Hera.
Ocean looked, blindsided and terrified, from one to the next to the last.
“You have got to be k-k-kidding!” he finally stammered. Then he dissolved into a saltwater puddle, which flowed toward the nearest exit.
“Uncle!” cried Athena, watching Poseidon rushing his tank-bearers toward the stairs.
“Not a chance!”
“Why not?” Aphrodite called out.
“And risk the wrath of the other two?” Poseidon answered. “I’d rather look into the eyes of Medusa!”
“Ouch,” Alcie muttered.
“Can’t take it personally, Alce,” Iole said. “You haven’t been born yet, and he doesn’t know Medusa is your aunt.”
“Right. Not personal. Right. Still kinda tacky, though, right, Pandy?”
But Pandy was watching the goddesses as they chased after the guests, many of whom were heading slyly and slowly for the exits. They had fallen upon the God of Wine, still lying on top of the bar.
“Pick one, you besotted lout!” Hera yelled, digging her finger into his side.
“All right!” Dionysus mumbled. “All right. Stop poking. I’ll pick one!”
There was silence as everyone close by held their breath.
“I think the fairest is,” he slurred, raising his goblet full of crimson liquid, “the red! See? The wine!”
Athena moved to strike him with the flat edge of her sword, but Dionysus, with a smelly belch, fell backward off the bar.
“Look at Athena,” Pandy said.
“Why?” said Iole.
“The other two . . . I get it. Of course Aphrodite would think the apple is for her. And Hera’s ego is the size of Egypt, so no big mystery there. But Athena is too wise to let something like this go to her head. And she knows . . . she knows . . . she’s not, like, the super, all-time, woo-woo fairest. But then she touched it!”
At that moment, Hephaestus appeared with the newly repaired doors and began pounding behind them.
“So, it’s the apple?” Alcie said, cupping her hands around her mouth to be heard.
“It has to be. Aphrodite and Hera . . . you saw them; they felt its effects as soon as they got it. And did you see how Athena’s face changed when she held it? She is always so serious and . . . and . . .”
“Tense, resolute, reserved, decorous . . . grave?” Iole offered.
“Yep,” Pandy agreed loudly. “But
“Try me.”
“Give me . . . that, ” Hera growled as she viciously snatched the apple away from Aphrodite. Grasping it, Hera let out a truly ungoddesslike yelp as her body shook once, violently. Athena redirected her blade at Hera as Aphrodite slapped at Athena’s arms.
“Heeeey!” came a loud screech from the main wine bar.
The crowd quickly parted to reveal Dionysus lying on his stomach on top of the bar, his head turned toward the fracas. His lips were pushed out as his face mashed into the wooden bar top.
“Anyone even consider actually giving it to the— uuurrrrrppp —excuse me, bride?”
The three goddesses gaped at him with blank expressions for a moment, then broke into a simultaneous derisive laugh and went at one another again as the wedding guests watched in astonishment.
Suddenly, as she and Aphrodite were flailing about like children, trying to grab the apple from Hera, Athena paused.
“Listen . . . listen!” She wheezed ever so slightly. “I have an idea.”
“What is it, you big bully?” Aphrodite said.
“We shall allow the assembled populace to decide.”
“Who?” asked Hera.
“The guests, you goat!” said Athena. “We’ll do it the mortal way. We’ll all take a vote.”
“All right,” said Hera after a moment.
“Goody,” said Aphrodite, taking a quick count of all of her suitors and lovers in the room. “I’m a shoo-in.”
The first immortal Athena grabbed was Ocean. As the three goddesses stood before him, Hera began winking wildly, Aphrodite puffed out her stomach to make her magic girdle (known for its seductive powers) a focal point, and Athena rested both hands on the hilt of her sword.
“Choose!” said Hera.
Ocean looked, blindsided and terrified, from one to the next to the last.
“You have got to be k-k-kidding!” he finally stammered. Then he dissolved into a saltwater puddle, which flowed toward the nearest exit.
“Uncle!” cried Athena, watching Poseidon rushing his tank-bearers toward the stairs.
“Not a chance!”
“Why not?” Aphrodite called out.
“And risk the wrath of the other two?” Poseidon answered. “I’d rather look into the eyes of Medusa!”
“Ouch,” Alcie muttered.
“Can’t take it personally, Alce,” Iole said. “You haven’t been born yet, and he doesn’t know Medusa is your aunt.”
“Right. Not personal. Right. Still kinda tacky, though, right, Pandy?”
But Pandy was watching the goddesses as they chased after the guests, many of whom were heading slyly and slowly for the exits. They had fallen upon the God of Wine, still lying on top of the bar.
“Pick one, you besotted lout!” Hera yelled, digging her finger into his side.
“All right!” Dionysus mumbled. “All right. Stop poking. I’ll pick one!”
There was silence as everyone close by held their breath.
“I think the fairest is,” he slurred, raising his goblet full of crimson liquid, “the red! See? The wine!”
Athena moved to strike him with the flat edge of her sword, but Dionysus, with a smelly belch, fell backward off the bar.
“Look at Athena,” Pandy said.
“Why?” said Iole.
“The other two . . . I get it. Of course Aphrodite would think the apple is for her. And Hera’s ego is the size of Egypt, so no big mystery there. But Athena is too wise to let something like this go to her head. And she knows . . . she knows . . . she’s not, like, the super, all-time, woo-woo fairest. But then she touched it!”
At that moment, Hephaestus appeared with the newly repaired doors and began pounding behind them.
“So, it’s the apple?” Alcie said, cupping her hands around her mouth to be heard.
“It has to be. Aphrodite and Hera . . . you saw them; they felt its effects as soon as they got it. And did you see how Athena’s face changed when she held it? She is always so serious and . . . and . . .”
“Tense, resolute, reserved, decorous . . . grave?” Iole offered.
“Yep,” Pandy agreed loudly. “But
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