Bookshelf Battle

Tyndareus cradled his aching head in his hands as his sons and their buddy loudly and obnoxiously voiced their dismay.

“Agamemnon and Menelaus are the biggest butt holes in Greece!” Castor shouted.

Odysseus stared at a hangnail. Soon, he found it so annoying that he nibbled it away.

“Can’t get on board with shipping Helen off to the butt hole brothers, Pops,” Odysseus said between nibbles.

“They are cruel,” Castor said.

“Vile,” Pollux added.

“Ill-tempered,” Castor said.

“Ill-mannered,” Pollux added.

“Lustful of power,” Castor said.

“Lustful of anything else,” Pollux said.

“The two biggest dingleberries to ever wiggle their way out of Hades’s turd hatch,” Odysseus said as he finally managed to bite the hangnail clean off.

“They can’t be trusted,” Castor said.

“Exactly,” Pollux said. “A pair of ruthless backstabbers.”

“Can we reopen the Ajax discussion?” Odysseus asked. “Even if the guy doesn’t have a great big jumbo wang, he’s still a pretty loyal hombre. It’ll be like giving Helen her own gigantic puppy dog.”

“Anyone would be better than Menelaus,” Castor said.

“Literally anyone,” Pollux added. “Anyone at…”

The king looked up and banged his fist down on the table so hard that it knocked everyone’s wine glasses over, spilling the delicious fermented grapey goodness everywhere.

“Enough!”

The trio of young men were aghast. They’d never seen the kind hearted old king angry before.

The king sighed and sat back down. The tone of his voice returned to normal.

“Don’t you three think I have agonized over all of this?” the king asked. “The situation remains that Agamemnon, through violence and guile, has consolidated twelve of the most powerful nations in Greece into the Achaean League. The kings of these lands bow to him. Their warriors fight for him.”

“Oh whatever,” Odysseus said. “Tell Agamemnon he suck my big ole Greek…”

The king interrupted his guest. “I already denied Agamemnon once when he requested Helen’s hand. To deny his brother would be just the excuse he needs to declare war on Sparta.”

“Let him try it,” Castor said.

“The mighty Spartan army is oiled and waiting,” Pollux added.

“Guys,” Odysseus chimed in. “Did you all not hear me? Ajax the Great allegedly has a great big jumbo wang. I say we invite him to court and demand that he drop his drawers so we can put this mystery to rest once and for all.”

“Be serious for once, Odysseus,” Tyndareus said.

“I’ll be serious when you say something that deserves a serious response,” Odysseus said.

The king sneered. “What did you just say?”

Odysseus threw his arms out. “Well, what did you expect us to think about this idea? You know we hate those two jerk holes.”

“When we were young, they used to run around the palace strangling rats and torturing small animals,” Castor said.

“Sick, twisted shit,” Pollux added.

“Yes,” Tyndareus said. “The lads of Mycenae did indeed have an unpleasant childhood.”

“Unpleasant?” Castor asked.

“Their father killed their cousins to get back at their uncle for banging his wife,” Pollux said.

Odysseus snickered. “Then, as if that weren’t enough, their father cooked up his nephews and tricked his brother into eating his own children. Classic Atreus.”

“Indeed,” Tyndareus said. “And when Thystes discovered what was in his supper and slew Atreus, I took in Agamemnon and Menelaus until they were of age and able to return to Mycenae, murder their uncle and take back the throne.”

“Those two dip shits owe you big time,” Odysseus said. “If anything, you should be making demands of them.”

“Agreed,” Tyndareus said. “And yet my heart calls on me to pity them, for surely having your uncle bone your mother, then having your father murder your cousins and feed them under false pretenses to your uncle only for your uncle to then turn around and murder your father is not only a very complicated tragedy to experience, but one that would no doubt turn the best of us into a heartless beast.”

Odysseus sighed. “It is no wonder that Agamemnon’s thirst for power can never be satiated.”

“It truly can’t be,” Tyndareus said. “Agamemnon is now stuck on a course where he will continue to seek a limitless amount of territory as salve for his childhood wounds.”

Odysseus picked up his goblet and poured fresh wine into it.

“Someone really needs to give ole Aggie a hug and tell him to just cry it out because no amount of land will ever help him get over the fact that his uncle fucked his mother and then his father killed his cousins and fed them to his uncle and then his uncle retaliated by killing his father.”

“If only they made a greeting card for that,” Tyndareus said.

“Father,” Castor said. “You might recall that when Agamemnon took our sister Clytemnestra as his wife in Helen’s stead, he agreed that there would always be peace between Mycenae and Sparta.”

“He did,” Tyndareus said. “But that was before he established the Achaean League. Now his power knows no bounds. Will he personally feel offended if Menelaus is snubbed? No. But Agamemnon is crafty. He bides his time, looks for the perfect excuse for war and when it presents itself, he strikes with cunning precision and furious vengeance.”

“What an asshole,” Odysseus said.

The Dioscuri looked downtrodden.

“Father,” Castor said. “It feels as if…

Pollux interrupted his brother. “It feels as if Castor and I have spent our entire adult lives saving Helen from danger only for you to deliver her into danger.”

A tear trickled out of Castor’s eye. He lost control and hugged his brother.

“Oh Pollux! Finally, you have added something useful to the conversation!”

The king nodded. “I know selecting a husband for the most beautiful woman in the world is a horrible task, but I see no other way. By marrying Helen off to Menelaus I can die knowing that Helen will never again be kidnapped as no one would dare cross Agamemnon and…”

The king reached across the table and took Castor’s hand. “…I can rest assured that you, Castor, will be able to preside over Sparta as king, leading our country in a time of peace and prosperity thanks to a renewed truce with Agamemnon.”

Castor’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh father…I…I….”

Tyndareus stretched his other hand out and took Pollux’s hand. “I am sorry, son.”

“Quite alright,” Pollux said.

“We never were sure which one of us came first,” Castor said.

“’Twas definitely Castor,” Tyndareus said. “Popped out of your mother’s womb like a greased goose ready to take the world by storm.”

Castor blinked his eyes, trying desperately to curb his tears of joy.

“And Pollux,” the king said. “Know that when your brother serves as king, you shall be…”

“Oh my gods,” Pollux said as a grin took over his face.

“Champion of Sparta!” Tyndareus said.

Pollux hyperventilated. “Oh my gods! Oh my gods! I’m so happy!”

Father and sons jumped to their feet and embraced.

Meanwhile, Odysseus guzzled a gulp of wine, then interrupted the three-way hug with an obnoxious belch.

“I hate to break up this family schmaltz-fest, but this plan will not bring about peace.”