Zeus, the CEO of OlympiCorp., whose memos are scorching, summons his staff for a Saturday morning C-suite meeting. Though it’s only 9:00, he’s already in a bad mood because he had to cancel his golf game to come into the office. Then his PowerPoint presentation wouldn’t work right and his bad mood turned to fury.
(“PowerPoint?” Athena texted to Hera, who was sitting right next to her. “Who the fuck uses PowerPoint anymore?”)
(“ROFLMAO,” Hera replied.)
“OK, let’s get this thing going,” grumbled Zeus. “My intern, Sisyphus, messed up my slides, so I’m going to go bare on this. By the way, just so you don’t underestimate my wrath, Sisphyus is now doomed for eternity to using Windows Vista 2006.”
A subtle, collective gasp went up from the conference room table and the room fell silent.
“Now that I’ve got your attention,” continued Zeus, whose waistline is substantial, with a smirk on his bearded face, “let’s get down to business. You know why we’re here. This Trojan War thing is getting completely out of hand. What are you immortals doing messing around with it? It makes us all look foolish and it’s starting to affect our bottom line. Burnt offerings have fallen off 6.7% in the last quarter. I’m getting calls from our biggest stockholders.”
He paused for a moment to let that sink in.
“Did any of you see the article in Thursday’s Wall Street Journal?” he continued. “Anyone?”
(Hera discreetly slipped her mobile phone into her lap and texted Athena, “Who the fuck reads the Wall Street Journal anymore?”)
(“BigZ does, apparently,” she texted back.)
Zeus glared at them.
“It said investors are starting to lose confidence in our enterprise,” Zeus continued. “Too much instability, they think. Even Buffet, who usually doesn’t bother with the day-to day, is pissed.”
He paused.
“So,” he went on, raising his voice, “I’m going to put a stop this right here, right now. If there’s any more—ANY more—intervention in this stupid war by ANY of you on EITHER side, you can start boxing up your office. Don’t mess with me on this, because my shield is thunder. Disobey me and YOU WILL ATONE! I will go all medieval on your immortal asses!”
There was an uncomfortable silence around the conference room table.
Finally Athena spoke up, timidly. “Father Zeus, whose stock options are formidable, um, would it be OK if we didn’t actually go and fight with the Achaeans but just gave them some cheat codes and tactics and stuff?”
Zeus looked furious for a moment, as if he was going to start some serious smiting. But then abruptly his face relaxed into a godlike grin.
“Hey. I was just fuckin’ with you. And you fell for it! You shoulda seen the look on your faces!”
And mighty Zeus, whose laugh is two Buicks rubbing together, broke out into gales of mirth. Literal gales. But then he stopped abruptly.
“But don’t you dare test me on this,” he added, glaring at his wife and daughter.
(Hera discreetly texted Athena, “My husb can be SUCH an asshole…”)
And the meeting broke up.
Down on the field of battle, the Trojans have apparently eaten their Wheaties. Hector, especially, is putting a big hurt on the Achaeans, cutting them apart and pushing them back to their ships. Zeus is firing up the Trojans, while Hera pleads with first one god and then another to intervene on the Achaean side. But the morning meeting with Zeus has had its effect. No one is in the mood to join the losing side at this point.
Even Athena has to be cajoled. But finally she agrees to join Hera in saving what’s left of the Achaean lines. And once again, Zeus is pissed.
He calls another meeting, but since Hera and Athena are busy saving the Achaeans’ asses, they Skype in. By this point, Zeus, whose blood pressure is alarming, has worked himself up into a lather. A literal lather. He promises vengeance on any of the gods who help the Achaean side. And he has some choice words for his wife and daughter, calling former the b-word at one point. But he has trouble with the Skype interface, so it’s unclear whether Athena and Hera get the message.
And the sun finally goes down before the Trojans can mop up what remains of the Achaean forces.
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