Tag Archives: The Illiad Rebooted

The Illiad Rebooted – Chapter 12

johnny-automatic-Grecian-hairdressing-13

The games had begun. In the glorious amphitheater of Sparta, Tyndareus and the boys sat and watched as Helen’s suitors raced chariots, fought wild beasts, and sparred with one another, all in one great big bloody battle royale.

The old king looked away just in time to avoid seeing a lion chomp its fearsome jaws down on Aristonymos the Awesome’s head.

“Oooh,” Odysseus said as he tossed some popcorn into his mouth. “That’s gotta hurt.”

“This is revolting, Odysseus,” the king said. “Shouldn’t we put a stop to this?”

“Ehh,” Odysseus said. “We could but the more dummies the lions eat, the less dummies you have to interview.”

The king shook his head. “Carry on.”

A giant of a man swung a battle axe that was so heavy only a man of great size could wield it. He used it to lop off heads and limbs as he pushed his way through the onslaught of warriors.

“My gods,” Castor said. “Is that….”

Odysseus grinned. “Ajax!”

The warrior looked up from battle and acknowledged the royalty with a nod.

“Ajax the Great!” Odysseus called. “Get your ass up here!”

Ajax sighed. As he lumbered towards the stands, three warriors jumped on his back. Ajax flexed his muscles and sent the annoying gnats flying every which way.

“Is this wise?” Castor asked.

“He looks angry,” Pollux noted.

“I’ve got to know,” Odysseus said.

Soon enough, Tyndareus and the boys found themselves staring up at the giant, who towered over them.

“Errgh,” Ajax grunted.

“Ajax the Great!” Odysseus said. “You honor us with your presence. You must answer a most vexing question. Do you possess a gigantic…”

Tyndareus cut in. “A gigantic sense of bravery.”

“Erggh,” Ajax said.

“No,” Odysseus said. “I want to know if he as an enormous…”

“Physique,” Tyndareous said. “Of course he does. He is the pride of Greece. That will be all, Ajax, thank you. Please return to your murders.”

“Errgh,” Ajax said as he returned to the battle.

“Why’d you cut me off?” Odysseus asked. “Now I’ll never know if he has a…”

“Odysseus,” the king said. “Your wit is quick and your tongue is sharp but if you are to ever rule you must learn about diplomacy. Question a man such as Ajax the Great about his genitalia and he’ll be liable to smash you like a bug so much as look at you.”

At that moment, Odysseus watched as Ajax cleaved an opponent in two.

“Duly noted,” Odysseus said.

The king felt a hand on his shoulder. The royals turned around to see Agamemnon and Menelaus decked out in their finest, jewel bedazzled robes, sipping from wine goblets and sneering.

“King Tyndareus,” Agamemnon said. “You’re looking well for an old codger.”

“Agamemnon,” the king said.

“O-douche-eus,” Agamemnon said to the adventurer.

“Butthole brother number one,” Odysseus said to Agamemnon, and then to Menelaus, “Number two.”

Menelaus grunted and took another sip.

“How long will this charade go on?” Agamemnon asked.

“Charade?” Tyndareus asked. “What ever do you mean?”

“Cut the shit, old man,” Agamemnon said. “We both know that either Helen will be Menelaus’s bride or Sparta will burn.”

“Not exactly the best argument to win my good will,” the old king said.

“I’m not in this to be loved,” Agamemnon said. “I’m in it to be feared. Fear will get you what you want more than love any day.”

Tyndareus rose and put his hands on Agamemnon’s shoulders. “Agamemnon. You stand before me a king of kings, the great ruler of the Achaean League, commander of an army so vast it could never be quantified. Will there ever come a day when you’ve had your fill of the world and decide that you’ve had enough?”

Agamemnon smiled. “Never.”

Tyndareus sighed. “As great as you have become, I still see that sad little boy when I look in your eyes.”

“And I still see the same tired old has been when I look in yours,” Agamemnon said.

Odysseus stood up. “All suitors are expected to fight.”

“Rules are for vagrants and commoners,” Agamemnon said.

Menelaus guzzled the last of his wine then cast his goblet aside. “No. I’ll fight.”

“Shut up, fool,” Agamemnon said. “No one asked you.”

“A man could hardly be considered worthy of the most beautiful woman in the world if he won’t prove himself in combat,” Odysseus said.

“Bah,” Agamemnon said as he slapped his brother on the back. “Fine!”

Menelaus drew his sword and headed for the rumble.

“But stay on the sidelines!” Agamemnon shouted at his brother. “Don’t stab anyone until they stab you first!”

Once Menelaus was out of ear shot, Agamemnon addressed Odysseus. “The gods themselves could not create enough words to describe how much I despise you.”

“What?” Odysseus asked as he shrugged his shoulders.

Castor stared at Agamemnon. “Old…” Castor struggled to get out the words. “Old…friend…what does it matter to you whether or not your brother marries Helen?”

“Her beauty does you no good if she’s wed to another,” Pollux added.

“She is a prize,” Agamemnon said. “And all prizes belong to the royal family of Mycenae.”

The ruler of the Achaean League turned his back on the group and walked off, but not before delivering one last ultimatum. “Get with the program or get dead, shit bags.”

The old king and his boys returned to their seats.

“And you’re going to tell me diplomacy will work with a man like that?” Odysseus asked.

“No,” Tyndareus replied. “With a man such as Agamemnon, one’s choices are either capitulation or war.”

“I’m sorry that you feel you have to choose capitulation,” Odysseus said.

Tyndareus patted the adventurer on the back. “As am I, my boy. As am I.”

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The Illiad Rebooted – Chapter 11

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And so, Tyndareus sent his finest messengers to spread word all throughout Greece that his daughter, the voluptuous and vivacious Helen of Sparta, inspirer of boners the world over, was available for marriage and all interested suitors must make their way to the king’s palace in order to plead their case.

After a few weeks, the old king, his sons, and his smooth talking houseguest found themselves standing on the steps of the palace, looking out at a sea of eligible bachelors that stretched out for miles.

“Perhaps we should put a cap on this,” Castor said.

“Only the first one thousand suitors to get to through the door will be considered?” Pollux asked.

“Gods no,” Castor said. “That would turn into a bloodbath quick.”

“Great Zeus’s beard, Odysseus,” Tyndareus said. “I couldn’t possibly interview all of these perverts.”

Odysseus observed the crowd. Sure, there were plenty of kings, princes, warriors and other men of noble stock or great accomplishment, and of course, they’d all brought their own contingents of servants and underlings with them.

A man decked out in a velvety red robe shouted over everyone around him.

“Pick me, King Tyndareus, for I am Amphimachus, the greatest mac daddy in all of Greece!”

Amphimachus snapped his fingers and his servant held up an open chest filled with gold coins.

“I bring you riches to compliment your wisdom, good king, and there’s more where that came from!”

The Daddy of All Greek Macs was about to continue his plea when he was cut off by a man in a clean, white toga.

“Nay, my king! Select me, Polyxenus the Proud, and I shall deliver unto you a hundred fertile brood mares to supply the mighty Spartan army with as many horses as they need.”

“Shit,” Castor said. “Gold and horses.”

“We might get rich off this,” Pollux said.

Tyndareus grew tired of the spectacle and stared at Odysseus with exhausted eyes. “Do something.”

Odysseus nodded then raised his hands up in the air. “Hey!”

No one was paying attention. Everyone was too busy shouting their bribes offered in exchange for the right to acquire Helen’s splendiferous vag.

“A thousand goats!”

“Fuck those goats! I’ll give you all the sapphires you can carry!”

“Fuck those goats and those sapphires! I’ll give you your own island!”

Odysseus stuck his pointer into the right side of his mouth and his middle finger into the left. This allowed him to make an ear splitting whistle.

“Yo!” the adventurer said. “Shut your suck holes, ass bags! This is a classy affair!”

The sea of suitors calmed down and paid the speaker their full, rapt attention.

“That’s better,” Odysseus said. “Alright, check it. Thank you all for turning out to court Helen of Sparta, the most beautiful princess in all the world.”

And that ended the calm. Cat calls. Whistles. Hooting. Hollering.

“Shut it!” Odysseus barked.

The crowd was silent again.

“Now, we’ve got some rules here,” Odysseus said. “First of all, everyone needs to chill the fuck out and stop acting like a bunch of animals. You’re trying to impress the King of Sparta, idiots, so behave yourselves and stop tossing your bribes out willy nilly as if Tyndareus is some type of common reprobate.”

Tyndareus leaned over to whisper into Odysseus’s ear. “I mean, I’m not totally against it if they’re offering…”

Odysseus nodded. “Instead, be gentlemen about it and slip the king your bribes when no one is looking. Really, people, this is all common sense.”

The adventurer strutted about the steps as he selected his words. “On that note, if you are a broke ass loser, a pathetic weakling, or a man who has accomplished nothing of import in his life, begone!”

The rabble grew restless as angry words were thrown Odysseus’s way.

“Oh get off it,” Odysseus said. “I’m not saying that Helen is a gold digging freak, but she ain’t messin’ with no broke ass Greeks, ya feel me? If you can’t take care of yourself, then you surely cannot take care of the most beautiful woman in the world.”

An old man with three teeth in his mouth hobbled up on his cane. “I agree! Kick out all these peasants and pick me, Hercules!”

A look of befuddlement came over Odysseus’s face. He squinted at the old man. “You’re not Hercules!”

“Yes I am!” the old man said as he flexed his arm and made the teeniest, tiniest muscle.

“You’re Hercules?” Odysseus asked.

“I sure am,” the old man said.

“The legendary warrior favored by the gods?” Odysseus asked.

“You know it, bitch,” the old man answered.

“The strongest man in all of Greece?” Odysseus asked.

“Damn skippy, son,” the old man said. “Now make with the poon already.”

Castor looked at the old man. “Impostor! This is not Hercules!”

Pollux also looked at the old man. “This is Lycus the Lecher, the most delinquent louse in all of Sparta!”

“And a pauper,” Castor said.

“Bah!” the old man said. “Eat a dick, Dioscuri!”

“OK the jig’s up you old bastard,” Odysseus said. “Take a hike.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” the old man said as he hobbled away. “Shit. Old ass man tries to get himself some magic cooch and y’all gotta make a federal case about it, bunch of wack ass punk ass trick ass marks.”

“And that goes for the rest of you,” Odysseus said. “If you’ve got no dough, then it is time to go!”

The ranks thinned as the penniless departed. Still, it was not enough.

“Next,” Odysseus said. “If you are a damn cyclops, a minotaur, or a monster of any kind, get to steppin’ because Helen don’t do no beasts, ya’ dig?”

Lagos, King of the Cyclopses, happened to be in attendance with five hundred of his one-eyed warriors.

“Bullshit, Odysseus!” Lagos said. “The cyclopses were here long before humans and we will be here long after your bones turn to dust!”

“Oh spare me the drama, Lagos,” Odysseus said. “Time for you and your one-eye to go bye-bye.”

Lagos beat his chest with his fist. “This is an outrage! I dragged out my one-eyed warriors, polished their helmets, and even made them stand at attention!”

Castor, Pollux, and Odysseus turned red face as they stifled their laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Odysseus said. “What did you say?”

“I said that I dragged out my one-eyed warriors and polished their helmets and…what? Why are you laughing?!”

Odysseus was doubled over. “Your…your…one-eyed warriors…look very stiff…and rigid! Bah ha ha!”

“Oh, damn you humans!” Lagos said as he turned his back and marched away. “One-eyed warriors, retreat!”

A loud hissing sound reverberated through everyone’s ears. The crowd separated to allow a gigantic beast through. It was well over ten feet tall, had the body of a long, slimy, snake, but instead of one reptilian head, it had nine.

“Hisssss,” the first head said.

“Fuck you and your no beast proclamation,” the second head said.

“We will have Helen’s glorious snapper!” the third head declared.

“Oh shut all of your stupid mouths, Hydra!” Odysseus said.

“No!” the fourth head said. “YOU shut YOUR mouth, dick cheese!”

Odysseus thumped his chest. “Why don’t you make me?”

“Hisssss,” the fifth head said. “Don’t think that we won’t!”

“Honestly Hydra,” Odysseus said. “What is this? A mid-millennium crisis?”

“What are you talking about?” the sixth head asked.

“We are confident as ever!” the seventh head cried.

“Are you now?” Odysseus asked. “Because it seems to me if you guys could still get it up, you’d be back in your cave going to town on a foxy ass she-hydra.”

“Hisssss,” the eighth head said. “We are the last hydra!”

“Yeah,” the ninth head said. “Way to open up old wounds, you insensitive prick!”

“Well,” Odysseus said. “Maybe if you’d been taking care of business your species wouldn’t be nearly extinct now and you’d be knee deep in hydra snatch, wouldn’t you?”

All nine heads hanged low as they started to cry.

The first head sniffed. “You’re…you’re right.”

“We didn’t believe in ourselves!” the second head said.

“We didn’t make the she-hydras happy!” the third head said.

“And now we are doomed to jerk off in our cave until the end of days!” the fourth head said.

“Yeesh,” Odysseus said. “Well, good luck with that.”

The heads lifted up.

“Give us the woman!” the fifth head said.

“Or meet your doom!” the sixth head said.

Odysseus drew his sword, threw himself into the crowd and lopped off the first hydra head before making a perfect landing.

The crowd looked on in amazement. The remaining hydra hands cried out in pain, then smiled and laughed as another head grew in the first head’s place.

The seventh head looked at the adventurer. “Cut off one of our heads…”

“…and another will grow in its place,” the eighth head said.

The ninth head looked glum as it stared down at the dead head lying on the ground.

“Yeah…but…I kind of fancied Steve.”

“Right, right,” the second head said. “Steve was a right friendly old bloke.”

“Who knows what this new dingus will be like?” the third head asked.

The new head, or rather, the replacement first head, look at his compatriots.

“Hey guys,” the new head said. “Want to go get some gluten free, non-dairy soy milk lattes and artisanal vegan scones?”

“Aww fuck me in the hydra ass,” the fourth head said.

“A bloody hipster!” the fifth head said.

“Damn you, Odysseus!” the sixth head griped. “You’ve saddled us with a lousy hipster!”

“I didn’t saddle you with a hipster,” Odysseus said. “You dipshits saddled yourselves with a hipster when you refused to leave.”

“Come on, guys,” the new head said. “Let’s go see a play. I bet I’ve already read the scroll its based on so I’ll whisper to you all throughout the performance how the scroll is so much better and how much smarter I am than all of you because I read the scroll and you all didn’t.”

“Ugh!” the seventh head said. “Do us a solid and cut him off, Odysseus!”

“Yes,” the eighth head said. “Maybe the next head will not be such an unmitigated chode gargler.”

“Well,” Odysseus said as he raised his sword. “If you insist…”

“Stop!” the ninth head said.

Odysseus backed off.

“What are you doing?” the second head asked.

“We cannot allow our heads to be chopped off simply because we don’t like one of them,” the ninth head said. “He is ours till he is lost in battle. ’Tis the hydra way.”

“Bollocks!” the third hydra said.

“He’s insufferable,” the fourth hydra said.

“Maybe he won’t be so bad once we get to know him,” the fifth hydra head said.

“Check your hydra privilege, bros,” the new head said. “These micro-aggressions are really triggering my anxiety and making me feel like I need to retreat into my safe space.”

Eight of of nine heads winced.

“Lets just go,” the fifth head said.

“Yeah,” the sixth head said. “Before we lose another head and it gets replaced with something even worse than a hipster.”

The hydra shifted its massive weight around and slithered away from the palace.

“What could be worse than a hipster?” the seventh head asked.

“I don’t know,” the eighth head said. “Door-to-door salesman trying to sell us shit that we’d just pay for with our own money?”

“Seems counterproductive,” the ninth head said.

“And he’d always try to sell us shit during dinner too I bet,” the second head said.

“Hey guys,” the new head said. “I think I’m going to grow a dirt beard and get a fedora.”

The other heads groaned.

“Shut up, new guy!” the third head said.

“Yeah!” the fourth head added. “Shut your gob!”

“Maybe I’ll get a tattoo of a Chinese symbol,” the new head said. “Something like ‘faith’ or ‘believe’ you know? People will see it and think I’m deep.”

“Oh gods,” the fifth head said. “Someone cut my head off so I don’t have to listen to this drivel any longer!”

Odysseus waited a minute for the hydra to slither away then continued his spiel.

“Right, now that all the monsters are gone…”

The adventurer spotted a nine-foot tall hulking figure wearing a cloak that was pulled down over its face.

“Hey…you there!”

“Raargh?” the figure asked.

“Yes, rarrgh!” Odysseus said. “Who are you?”

The figure shook its head and looked down. “Blarga raargh.”

Odysseus walked right up to the figure, leaned up his tippy toes and yanked its hood off to reveal noneother than the bullish head of the minotaur himself.

“Raaarga raarga rahhhh!”

“Don’t you ‘raarga raarrga rahh me, minotaur!” Odysseus said as he wagged his finger at the beast’s gold ring pierced snout.

“Arrgh flargha jaarga jaarga barrga barrga pppbbbhhht!”

“What?” Odysseus asked incredulously.

“Arrga slarga!” the minotaur shouted.

“That’s preposterous,” Odysseus said. “You don’t even know my mother.

The Dioscuri joined their friend.

“I knew it was a mistake letting you live, minotaur!” Castor said.

“Yes,” Pollux said. “Go back to your maze at once!”

The minotaur stomped his hoof. “Errgsa florgas!”

Odysseus gasped. “Minotaur! You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

The half-man/half-bull trudged away, defeated.

“Yeah!” Castor shouted.

“You better walk away!” Pollux added.

Without turning around, the minotaur flipped the Dioscuri the bird then continued to trudge off.

“Right then,” Odysseus said. “Now that the riffraff is gone, let’s get down to business.”

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The Illiad Rebooted – Chapter 10

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Night fell and a weary Odysseus strolled through the halls of the Spartan palace until he reached Penny’s door.

Though typically decisive in combat, the adventurer stood there for awhile, his hand trembling as he contemplated whether or not to enter.

Finally, Penny made it easy for him.

“Are you going to stand out there all night?” came Penny’s voice from inside the room.

Odysseus swung the door open. He swallowed hard when he saw the woman he loved in her nightgown, her long hair flowing down over her shoulders.

“How did you know it was me?” Odysseus asked.

“Any other pervert would have skulked about in front of Helen’s door,” Penny answered.

Odysseus smiled. “Perhaps you speak of perverts with poor taste.”

Penny ran her hands down the length of her curves. “Perhaps you are a pervert who has let all this go to waste.”

The bountiful brunette sat down on the edge of her bed, picked up a brush and ran it through her hair. The adventurer set his torch down in a sconce attached to the wall and took a seat next to the lady.

“How scandalous,” Penny said.

“What?” Odysseus asked.

“A man and a woman who aren’t married in the same bed together at this time of night,” Penny said.

“Are we not childhood friends?” Odysseus asked.

“Those days are long over, friend,” Penny said.

The pair sat in silence for awhile as Odysseus searched for the right words, or at the very least, any words.

“I still love you,” Odysseus said.

Penny sighed. “Yes. Oh how loved I feel by a dumb ass who ran away and never contacted me again.”

“Adventure called, Penny,” Odysseus said. “All those monsters weren’t going to slay themselves.”

Penny stopped brushing. She reached a hand out and cupped it against Odysseus’s cheek. He leaned into it, as if doing so nourished him. The couple stared into each other’s eyes.

“I never asked you to stop adventuring,” Penny said. “All I have ever asked is that you come back to me when your adventures are done.”

Penny leaned in and kissed Odysseus. Together, they fell back on the bed, engaged in a sultry, slobbery lip lock until Penny sat up.

“Blast!” Odysseus cried. “What in the name of Apollo’s arrow have I done to be punished with the bluest of balls?”

“You broke my heart,” Penny responded, matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” Odysseus said. “Right.”

The adventurer stood up, then fell to his knees. In a most pathetic display, he grabbed the lady’s hand and resorted to groveling.

“Dearest Penelope,” Odysseus said. “Tell me how to make this right.”

Penny’s face scrunched up to one side as she tapped her finger on her right cheek. “Hmmm…”

“What?” Odysseus asked. “What is it?”

“You and I had some great conversations in the past, haven’t we?” Penny asked.

“Of course,” Odysseus said.

“But I don’t know,” Penny said. “Ever since your jaw dropped ten feet when you saw me at the dock I think you’d say anything just to get your hands on my…”

“It is truly a majestic badonka donk, my sweet,” Odysseus said. “’Tis as if Aphrodite molded two pressed hams out of clay herself and attached them to your backside just so that you could bring joy to the hearts of men through the very sight of your…”

Penny frowned. “Ugh. I was just joking but now its obvious you just love me for my ass, you pig.”

Odysseus recoiled. “Whaaaat? Noooooo…”

The brunette took her hand back and pouted.

“My dear your ass could be as flat as the surface of the earth and I would still adore you,” Odysseus said.

“Yeah,” Penny said. “Right.”

Odysseus’s took back his love’s hand. “Tell me how to prove it to you.”

“I don’t know,” Penny said.

“Anything,” Odysseus said.

“Anything?” Penny asked.

“Anything at all,” Odysseus answered. “Why, I’d strangle the Kraken with his own tentacles, gauge out the eyes of a thousand cyclopses..or, wait is it ‘cyclopses’ or ‘cyclopti?’”

“‘Cyclopses,’” Penny said as she wiped away a tear. “Read a book, dumb ass.”

“Whatever,” Odysseus said. “I’d blind a thousand of them. I’d challenge the minotaur to a fist fight. I’d steal Icarus’s wings and fly even closer to the sun than that lightweight ever did. I’d sail to the ends of the earth and back again. I’d climb to the top of Mount Olympus and…”

“Marry me,” Penny said.

Odysseus recoiled once again. “Whaaaat???”

Penny burst into tears.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Odysseus said.

Penny buried her face into her hands and cried. Odysseus sat down next to her and put his hand on her shoulder only to have it pushed away.

“Just fuck off, Odysseus!”

“Babe,” Odysseus said. “Can we just, you know, dial this down a notch? Is the art of dialog dead now? Can we talk about this?”

“No,” Penny said. “I’m not some whore, Odysseus.”

“I know…”

“You should be thrilled by the idea,” Penny said.

“I…I am…its just…I had no idea this is what you wanted.”

Penny wiped away her tears and returned to Odysseus’s arms. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” Odysseus replied.

“We love the same things,” Penny said.

“You’re the only other person I know that I’d share my love of pegasuses with,” Odysseus said. “Or is it pegasi?”

“It’s just ‘Pegasus,’ asshat!” Penny said as she playfully hammer punched Odysseus in the shoulder. “There’s only one of them.”

“And I need him,” Odysseus said.

“We need him!” Penny said.

“We need to fly away together on a horse with its own damn wings,” Odysseus said.

Penny smiled. “And we hate the same things.”

“Oh, fuck centaurs!” Odysseus said. “Remember that time we met one?”

“Oh my gods,” Penny said. “And he was all like, ‘Look at me! I have a man’s torso and a horse’s ass. I’m so special!’”

“I still can’t believe there are people who find centaurs attractive,” Odysseus.

“Fucking centaur fuckers!” Penny said.

“Fucking centaur fuckers,” Odysseus repeated.

“We compliment each other in every conceivable way,” Penny said.

“And you have an ass that could feed a family of five,” Odysseus said.

Penny slinked back. “I thought you said that wasn’t what you were after?”

“It isn’t,” Odysseus said. “But uh…you know…if its there…”

“Pervert,” Penny said.

“Penny,” Odysseus said. “Maybe we should just…”

Penny put one finger up against Odysseus’ lips to shut him up. “No. If you love me then you’ll ask my uncle for my hand…

“But Penny,” Odysseus interrupted.

“…and I swear to you, Odysseus, Champion of Ithaca, if you sail away from Sparta without me you can forget about ever speaking to me again and…”

The brunette stood up, turned around, and gave one of her two astounding ass cheeks a good, hard slap. Odysseus was thoroughly shocked, not to mention aroused.

“…you can forget about ever getting your hands on all of this.”

“By the trident of Poseidon, woman!” Odysseus said. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“I’m worth it, aren’t I?” Penny asked.

Odysseus gulped. “You are.”

Penny picked up her brush, ran it through her hands a few times, then dropped it.

“Whoopsie,” Penny said. “I’m such a klutz.”

“Bahh!” Odysseus said. “Why do you torture me?!”

“What?” Penny asked innocently.

Odysseus drooled and stared as his love bent over to pick up her brush. Oh how full that moon was.

“That’s enough visiting for one night,” Penny said as she grabbed Odysseus’s hand.

“But…but…but…”

“That’s right,” Penny said as she pushed Odysseus out the door. “No butt for you until our wedding night.”

“But…but…but…”

Slam!

Penny’s door was now closed and Odysseus just stood there like an imbecile, trying to figure out what had just happened.

“Women,” the adventurer said.

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The Illiad Rebooted – Chapter 3

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The sound of a blaring ram’s horn tore across Sparta before it finally made its way to the king’s ears.

“What?” the king asked.

Leda stirred. “Could it be?”

The gold plated doors to the throne room opened to reveal a rather stern looking muscle bound, long haired warrior. He entered in the company six other warriors, three on each side.

Their uniforms consisted of little more than leather thongs and flowing capes.

A frazzled Tyndareus sprang to his feet. “Oh, thank the gods, ’tis Talos, general of the mighty Spartan army. What news do you bring?”

The Spartans marched in a stoic manner until they reached the throne. Then, they shouted a very guttural “oohrah” before falling to their knees before the king.

“My good king,” Talos said. “My good queen. Castor and Pollux approach the port in their ship.”

“And? Tyndareus asked.

“Umm,” the general said. “The wind is in their sails and their pace is steady?”

The king slapped his forehead. “For the love of Hera’s tucas, man! Is Helen with them?”

“Oh!” Talos said. “Yes! Indeed she is. I spotted the princess standing on deck.”

“Not trying to tell you how to do your job, general,” Tyndareus said. “But you might have led off with that.”

The warriors arose. “On your word, we shall escort you to the port, your highness.”

Leda stood up. “I must fetch our niece.”

“Yes,” a relieved Tyndareus said. “Collect dear Penelope so that our family will finally be together again.”

Three Spartans left the throne room with the Queen.

Meanwhile, the king, Talos, and the other three warriors departed.

As the king’s party moved through the hustle and bustle of the city, the king couldn’t help but notice the skimpy attire the warriors were wearing.

“Talos?”

“Yes, my liege?”

“Is it me or have the uniforms of the mighty Spartan army grown absurdly scant?”

“’Tis not you, my king,” Talos said. “A reduction in clothing is one of many changes I have made as of late to give the mighty Spartan army an edge over all challengers.”

“I never thought one could could go wrong with a good tunic,” Tyndareus said.

“All due respect, my king,” Talos replied. “But tunics are bulky and get in the way. Leather thongs allow for much freer movement.”

“And the capes?” Tyndareus inquired.

“Oh the capes are just badass,” Talos replied. “When our enemies spy the mighty Spartan army rolling up on them, they’ll be all like, ‘Damn, those bad ass Spartan muthafuckas be wearin’ the shit out of them capes!’”

“I see,” the king said. “And what other changes have you made?”

A miserable wretch covered in boils hobbled up to the party on his cane with a live chicken tucked under his arm.

“Huzzah!” the wretch said. “’Tis Good King Tyndareus! May the gods smile upon you, your majesty!”

“Step aside, peasant!” Talos said as he knocked the wretch over with his pinky finger and kept walking.

“A bit harsh, weren’t you?” the king asked.

“I don’t know where that lowly dog has been, my king,” Talos said. “He coughs on you, you get sick and before you know it I’m slitting my own throat to atone for my failure to protect the man the gods have selected to rule over Sparta. Now where was I?”

“The changes,” the king said.

“Ah yes,” Talos said. “I’ve given the men a robust schedule. Up before dawn for swordplay practice, followed by an afternoon of rubbing scented oils and lotions into one another’s rippling muscles, followed by an evening of slippery wrestling until we fall asleep.”

“That seems rather uh, homoerotic,” the king said. “Not that I’m judging.”

“Scented oils and lotions are good for the muscles, your highness,” Talos said. “It brings the gallons upon gallons of testosterone coursing through our veins to the surface and makes us stronger. I swear it has nothing to do with us enjoying putting our greasy hands all over each others’ firm, supple bodies.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t,” the king said.

“Also, I have trained the men to shout incredibly macho statements about themselves upon command.”

Talos snapped his fingers. “Spartans! Flatter yourselves!”

“I possess gigantic testicles forged from wrought iron by the hand of Hephaestus, God of All Blacksmiths, himself!” the first warrior shouted. “Ooorah!”

“Is that true?” the king asked.

“I don’t know that it is not true,” Talos said. “Spartans! Continue!”

“I can snap the neck of a griffin with nothing but the tight muscles of my buttocks!” the second Spartan shouted. “Ooorah!”

“That’s true,” Talos said. “I’ve seen him do it. Third Spartan, report!”

“I crave man ass all night and day!” the third Spartan shouted. “Oohrah!”

Talos rolled his eyes. “Third Spartan, that’s not really a macho statement about yourself so much as an interest in an, um, extracurricular activity that the good king doesn’t need to know about.”

“I’m sorry, General!” the third Spartan said. “I’ll think about it and get back to you! Oorah!”

“How does making them shout macho statements about themselves make them better warriors?” the king asked.

“Would you want to go up against an army of Spartans with such massive egos to compliment their oiled up muscles?” Talos asked.

“I should say…” The king stopped to cough in his fist. “I should say not.”

“My king,” Talos said as he stretched out his hand. “Please, let me assist you.”

“No,” Tyndarecus scoffed. “I may be old but I’m not dead.”

“I understand,” Talos said.

The party reached the port and waited as the royal ship drew nigh.

“My king,” the general said. “Far be it from me to question your wisdom, but I hope you know that the mighty Spartan army and I are infinitely loyal to the royal family. Should you ever desire to give the Dioscuri a break, we shall relish the chance to rescue Princess Helen the next time she is kidnapped by a pervert, which, given the way things have been going, will no doubt be sometime around next Tuesday, or Wednesday at the latest.”

The king smiled and patted the general on the shoulder.

“Noble Talos. Never would I question your loyalty to my family or to Sparta, especially when you and the mighty Spartan army have proven yourselves time and time again on the field of battle, but Helen is by far the hottest chick in the world and I’m sure you will understand that I just feel more comfortable when she is in the company of her brothers as opposed to an army of outrageously strong egomaniacs with oiled up muscles and gallons upon gallons of testosterone coursing through their veins.”

“Oh, you need not worry, your majesty,” Talos said. “We are not interested in Helen in that way.”

The king was taken aback. “Seriously?”

“No doubt,” Talos said.

“But aside from her kin, Helen is desired by every being with a penis,” the king said.

Tyndareus raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I thought you said you dudes weren’t into other dudes.”

“I did not say we were not, not into dudes,” Talos replied. “Besides, I thought you said you weren’t judging?”

“I’m not,” Tyndareus said.

“Mighty Spartan army requirements are very strict about interpersonal relationships,” the general explained. “If we were into dudes, which I’m not saying we are, we couldn’t very well run around advertising the fact that we are into dudes now could we?”

“Ah,” Tyndareus said. “So you’re saying that you’re all into dudes?”

The general threw his hands up. “I didn’t say that.”

“Well,” the king said as he watched the ship come in. “I appreciate the offer, Talos, but I can’t take the risk that one of your men might be a switch hitter.”

“Not gonna lie,” Talos said. “The ninth Spartan warrior isn’t so much into dudes or chicks as he is into anything with a warm hole of any kind.”

“TMI, Talos,” the king said. “TMI.”

The ship docked. A contingent of sailors attached a gangplank to allow the occupants to exit the vessel.

“Princess Helen approaches!” shouted the first sailor from the ship’s deck. “Avert your eyes!”

“Shut your eyes!” the second sailor shouted as he walked down the gangplank. “Princess Helen comes this way!”

“What’s everyone on about?” the third sailor asked from his position the dock.

It was too late. All but the third sailor closed their eyes. That sailor, upon spotting the glorious beauty of Helen as she strolled down the gangplank with her brothers in tow, immediately went cross-eyed, became consumed by an orgasmic fit, then dropped to the deck.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me the Princess was disembarking?” the third sailor asked. “I soiled my tunic!”

“We did,” the first sailor shouted from the deck with his eyes still shut. “Clean the shit out of your ears!”

Helen spotted Tyndareus.

“Father!” the princess cried as she ran over and hugged the old man.

“Oh my darling daughter Helen!” Tyndareus said as he wept tears of joy. “I am so delighted that you survived this week’s kidnapping.”

“The Dioscuri rescued me from the crusty old fucks!” Helen proudly declared.

“Castor and Pollux!” the king said.

The Dioscuri took turns hugging their old man.

“Father,” Castor said.

“Father,” Pollux repeated.

“My heart swells with pride that you have saved your sister from yet another weekly kidnapping!” the king said.

“Yeah,” Castor said. “Not like there was anything else we’d rather be doing.”

“Right,” Pollux said. “Now let’s go nap for five minutes before some pervert nabs Helen and we do this shit all over again.”

Tyndareus frowned. “What…what is that? Are you boys using sarcasm on your father?”

“No,” Castor said.

“We’d never do that,” Pollux said.

Seconds later, the queen arrived with the royal niece and her contingent of Spartan warriors.

“I can block out the sun with my monstrous phallus!” the fourth Spartan warrior shouted. “Ooorah!”

“Yes, yes,” the queen said. “We all know you are all super gay. No one cares.”

Penelope was a curvaceous young woman. Tight in the waist, splatow in the other place if you catch my drift.

“Mother!” Helen said as she hugged the queen.

“Oh Helen!” the queen said. “We were so frightened that you’d been done in by those crusty old fucks!”

Helen let go of her mother and embraced Penelope. “Sweet cousin!”

Penelope spoke in a monotone that belied a demeanor similar to what you modern readers might refer to as “depressed brainy goth chick.”

“Whoopee,” Penelope said as she let her arms hang at her sides, refusing to return the hug. “Helen’s back, y’all. Let’s all drop what we’re doing and talk about this for three or four hours. Hooray.”

Talos squinted as he looked out across the sea’s horizon. “My king!”

Tyndareus looked up and joined his general in staring at a small blip that eventually turned into a ship.

“Is it a friend or foe?” the king asked.

“It…it bears the markings of a ship of Ithaca!” Audax proclaimed. “Surely it carries a friend.”

Castor and Pollux looked at each other.

“Oh come on,” the first brother said.

“It has to be…” the second brother replied.

Penelope flashed a rare smile. “Ithaca, you say?”

The royal family and the mighty Spartan rmy waited patiently until the ship reached the port.

A strapping young man with a full beard stepped out onto the deck and grinned.

“Whassup, beatches? Odysseus all up in Sparta’s ass! Woot woot!”

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The Illiad Rebooted – Chapter 2

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Tyndareus, King of Sparta, sat sullenly upon his throne, ensconced in a crippling bout of depression so severe that even his three most ample slave girls were unable to break him out of it.

“More grapes, your majesty?” the first slave girl asked.

The king did not respond.

“Perhaps some wine?” the second slave girl inquired.

Tyndareus continued to wallow in his perpetual woe.

The third slave girl started to untie the string that held the top of her gown up when she was rudely interrupted by a pair of clapping hands.

“Begone, wenches,” commanded the most lovely and regal Queen Leda as she strutted through the chamber. “The king is in a state that only a queen can fix.”

The slave girls departed and Leda sat down upon Tyndareus’s lap. She ran her hand over her husband’s face, tickling his beard.

“Why do you suffer so, my king?” the queen asked.

“’Tis Helen,” Tyndareus answered. “Kidnapped once again under my watch and no doubt being forced to touch the super old wrinkly balls of Theseus and Peirithous as we speak.”

“Ugh,” Leda said. “Damn those crusty old fucks.”

“Tell me about it,” Tyndareus said.

“You need not concern yourself,” Leda said. “Castor and Pollux have never failed you.”

“Indeed they have not,” Tyndareus said. “Never has a father been blessed with a pair of twin sons as daring and brave as the Dioscuri. But I fear we ask too much of them, wife.”

“How so?”

“This week its the crusty old fucks,” Tyndarecus said. “Last week it was the Kraken. The week before that it was the minotaur. Leda, Helen is getting ridiculously hotter everyday and accordingly, no man or beast in all of Greece with a penis can control himself in her presence. If we continue to importune Castor and Pollux to save their sister every time she is kidnapped by a filthy degenerate pervert, they will never have lives of their own. They’ll never find wives. They’ll never have children. They will simply spend all of their time fighting perverts.”

Leda sighed. “I admit I never thought about it that way.”

“That’s because you never think of anyone but yourself,” Tyndareus said.

The queen stood up. “How dare you?!”

“How dare I?” Tyndareus asked.

“My betrayal was so long ago, dear husband!” Leda shouted. “Surely by now I have earned your forgiveness!”

Tyndareus took his wife’s hand. “So many nights I have laid awake begging myself to forgive you but alas…I don’t know if I will ever be able to.”

Leda stomped her foot on the marble floor. “It was Zeus! Fucking Zeus!”

The king stood up. He gritted his teeth and his face turned red. “In the form of a swan! How did you fuck a swan?”

“I don’t know!” Leda said. “I just did!”

“The logistics alone boggle my mind!” Tyndareus cried.

“Why must you insist on dredging up the past?” Leda asked.

“How did you even find yourself attracted to a damn swan?” Tyndarecus asked.

“Because it was Zeus in the form of a swan!” Leda said. “My darling, shouldn’t a woman be allowed a pass if she is seduced into adultery through the allure of a god?”

“Absolutely not,” Tyndareus said.

Leda folded her arms. “You’re going to stand there and tell me that if Aphrodite swooped down from Mount Olympus and begged you to go to town on her lady bits, you’d refuse?”

The king shook his head. “If we’re talking about Aphrodite in all her super hot goddess glory with her ginormous goddess titties, then yes, I’d most certainly lose control. But if we’re talking Aphrodite in the form of a duck, then no dearest, I would abstain. I love you enough to avoid fucking a duck. Alas, you did not afford me the same loyalty when it came to a swan. Call me crazy, but I believe we owe it to each other to avoid dalliances with water fowl.”

“It was still Zeus!” Leda protested.

“Ahhh, fi on thee woman,” Tyndarecus said. “I shall hear no more excuses for your swan fuckery.”

The king eased his weary bones back into his throne and let out an “oof!” upon landing.

“Besides,” Tyndareus said. “Your sordid infatuation with swan penis…”

“It was an infatuation with the greatest of all the gods!” Leda snapped.

“It does not matter,” Tyndareus said. “All that matters now is that is that I have failed our children and failed them miserably.”

Leda returned to the king’s lap and gently stroked her hand through her husband’s hair. “Oh my love, you are not a failure. How could Castor and Pollux have become such gallant fighters were it not for the training you provided them?”

“A fine point,” the king said.

“And who kept Helen safe for so many years until your advanced age forced you to turn the burden over to the Dioscuri?” Leda asked.

“I did,” the Tyndareus said. “But that is the point, my queen. Sooner or later, we all find ourselves dragged into the underworld. I can burden our sons no longer and yet, who will ensure our beloved Helen is safe when I die?”

Leda held Tyndareus in her arms. “A most vexing question, but one you will surely answer. You are a noble man, Tyndareus. Few men in your position would have found it in their hearts to raise Helen as their own.”

“She must never know that I am not her father,” Tyndarecus said. “You must never tell her.”

“I would never do such a thing,” Leda said. “And as far as I am concerned, you are her father, for that sleaze bag Zeus never once called, or wrote me a letter, or even offered to pick up a bill or two.”

“Fucking gods,” Tyndareus said.

“Alas,” Leda said. “I fear the more Helen learns about science, the more likely it will be that she will do the math in her head and reach the conclusion that her astounding beauty could only be the result of an illicit union between a woman and the greatest of all gods in the form of a swan. That’s just science.”

Tyndareus slammed his fist down on the arm rest of his throne. “Blasted science!”

“You can’t argue with science,” Leda said.

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The Illiad Rebooted – Chapter 1

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There has never been, nor will there ever be, a woman as beautiful as Helen of Sparta.

I’m totally serious, you guys. One look at that foxy mama and it was all Boner City: Population You.

I’m talking an enchanting face that you could stare at for hours, eyes you could get lost in, long luxurious blonde hair you’d kill just to touch its sublime softness and those tittays?

Don’t even get me started about those tittays. There were like two giant, perky chest rockets standing at attention.

No joke, I’m Homer, the greatest poet in all of Ancient Greece and it was all that even a scholar such as I could do to keep myself from dreaming about motor boating those puppies all day long.

“Vrrooom vrrroooom ung nung nung nung nah!”

But I digress. Given Helen’s epic splooge inducing hotness, it was no surprise that those crusty old fucks Theseus and Peirithous, the kings of Athens and Larissa, respectively, kidnapped our beloved Helen and took her back to a dank, dark undisclosed lair.

“Come, Peirithous!” Theseus did say as he dropped his robe to the floor to reveal his oily hide. “Let us put our super wrinkly, disgustingly gray pubic hair infested nut sacks on full display!”

“Yes,” Peirithous did reply. “For we are very, very old and I do not know about you, my good friend Theseus, but I would surely enjoy having my way with the most beautiful woman in the world before I drop dead from a heart attack or ass cancer or some other bullshit disease that we are susceptible to for as you are no doubt aware, we are both ridiculously old!”

And so, Helen did cringe and cry and bemoan her fate as two lecherous, old, decrepit and dilapidated perverts closed in upon her. As they did so, both men held out their hands, opening and shutting them in the internationally understood “I want to honk some hooters” sign that men of poor moral character are known to engage in when approaching a woman with a copious bosom.

“Oh cruel fate!” Helen shouted. “Surely I am not doomed to be accosted by two crusty old fucks with super wrinkly balls, am I?”

At that precise moment, the business end of a sharp sword tore its way through Theseus’s belly, spritzing the lair with a thick douse of crimson red blood. A second blade made short work of Peirithous’s gut in similar fashion.

Both of the crusty old fucks fell to the floor, gyrating and convulsing. It was a horrific yet hilarious sight. If only video technology had been invented at the time. That shit would have gone viral on GreekTube.

The swords belonged to two young warriors, fair haired lads with chiseled jaws and rippling physiques.

“Brothers!” Helen said with glee as she hugged her rescuers.

“What treachery is this?” cried the crusty old fuck Theseus as his blood drained out into the dirt.

“Egads!” hollered the crusty old fuck Peirithous, “’Tis the Dioscuri! Castor and Pollux making with a cock block most foul!”

“Fi on thee, Dioscuri!” Theseus said. “Hast thou not heard of the ancient law known as, ‘bros before hoes?’”

“We have,” Castor said.

“But it pales in comparison to the law of ‘sisters before misters,’” Pollux added.

“Ha, ha!” Helen laughed as she looked down upon the geezers. “Enjoy your most deserved deaths, crusty old fucks!”

“Uncool, Helen,” Castor said.

“Indeed,” Pollux said. “They’re already dying and…they’re dead. Yes. Its official. The crusty old fucks are dead now.”

“And not a moment too soon,” Helen said. “Couldn’t you boys have saved me sooner? I was unacceptably close to having to touch their wrinkly balls.”

“We do have lives, Helen,” Castor said.

“Right,” Pollux said. “We do our best.”

“I know you do,” Helen said as she pecked each brother on the cheek. “Now come! We must return to father immediately. He shall be very worried I’m sure of it.”

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The Illiad Rebooted Challenge

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Hello 3.5 readers.

Thank you, as always, for reading.

Without you, I would just be an asshole typing out random garbage into the inter webs for no apparent reason.

THE PREMISE:

Alien Jones has used undisclosed alien technology to revive Homer, the legendary poet of ancient Greece and author of The Illiad, that boring as shit book that your college English professor probably made you read.

Homer and I are collaborating on an Illiad reboot.  That’s right. Hollywood has refused to produce anything original for years now, so why can’t Home Slice and I cash in on this trend?

THE CHALLENGE:

The Illiad will be rebooted by January 1, 2016!

So sit back, relax and enjoy as Homer and I bring you, The Illiad Rebooted.

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