The scene: The Godverse, where deities both ancient and forgotten hang out. Currently there’s a party in full swing at Bruce the Shark-Headed god’s mansion. The ancients are digging the cool tunes (mostly Dick Dale and the Del-Tones, Booker T & the MG’s and Santo & Johnny…Bruce has a great selection of classic rock), knocking back the mead and hanging out around Bruce’s cool pool. Horatio Cornblower is perched on the shoulder of Mars, the Roman god of war, who got crunched big-time by Fozz falling onto him from out of the sky. JJ Fozz is knocking back the mead himself and floating in the pool in an inner tube, but Man in Plaid #2’s head is hanging out on the table by Mars. Mars is in a pool chair, a silly grin on his face and sunglasses on, still very unconscious.

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: Are you certain nobody is going to notice?

Horatio Cornblower: Nah. It’s a party. Everyone’s too intent on getting bombed and getting laid.

A conga line of gods and goddesses dances by, laughing and waving. Horatio waves a tiny hand back at them.

Horatio Cornblower: See? The gods are just like everyone else.

An eight-foot tall frog god brings up the tail end of the conga line and gives Horatio a drunken leer.

Horatio Cornblower: I mean…

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: That is Heket, an Egyptian fertility deity.

Horatio Cornblower: Did she look friendly or hungry to you…?

A shapely goddess with jet-black hair staggers up and plops herself onto Mars’ lap. Horatio Cornblower grabs Mars’ ear to avoid falling off his shoulder.

Xochiquetzal: Marsie, baby…how come you never called me?

Mars’ head tilts slightly to the side.

Xochiquetzal: Oh, you’re gonna play it that way, huh? Well, I don’t need to sit here if you’re just gonna ignore me!

Xochiquetzal gets up and, with a casual but drop-dead sexy hair flip, saunters off.

Horatio Cornblower: So Mars is hooking up with the goddess of “Hubba Hubba” and I’m getting the googly eyes from a giant frog. Seems legit.

Isimud, the two-faced Sumerian god wanders up toward Mars.

Isimud (first face): Say, Mars…we were wondering…

Isimud (second face): Oh, we were wondering! Just like we were the ones who bet that Lahar could beat Thor in an arm-wrestling contest?

Isimud (first face): I don’t remember you complaining at the time…

Isimud (second face): That’s because you never listen!

Horatio Cornblower: Lahar?

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: The god of cattle. One of the minor Mesopotamian deities.

Horatio Cornblower: The god of cows tried to arm-wrestle Thor?

Isimud (first face): I’ll have you know that Lahar works out every day…almost.

Horatio Cornblower: I’m not sure cow-tipping is considered a workout…

Isimud’s second face snorts out a laugh, while the first face looks annoyed.

Isimud (first face): I’ll have you know…say, who are you anyway? I don’t recall seeing you around here before.

Horatio Cornblower: Well, I’m…um…

One of the party guests, a god carrying a flagon of wine, wanders over.

Isimud (second face): Dionysus! How’s it hanging?

Dionysus (chest-bumping Isimud): Free and easy, Isimud. What’s up with you two?

Isimud (first face): We were just talking to your brother…

Dionysus: Half-brother.

Isimud (second face): We owe him some money, y’know, and…

Dionysus: You bet on the cow-god? Guys! Guys! That was a sucker’s bet if I ever saw one.

Isimud (first face): Well, we’re a bit short…

Isimud (second face, to Horatio): No offense.

Dionysus (burping loudly): Look, guys, I’ll talk to Mars, okay? Come up with the scratch by next week and I’ll cover it with him.

Isimud (first face): You are a true gentleman, Dionysus!

Isimud (second face, as they leave): We owe you one, pal!

As they leave Dionysus pulls up a chair next to Mars.

Dionysus (knocking back more wine): Gents. I take it you’re new here. I’m Dionysus, god of tits and wine. My friends just call me Dion.

Horatio Cornblower: I’m Horatio Cornblower and this is…

Horatio Cornblower looks at Man in Plaid #2’s head quizzically.

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: We don’t really have names.

Dionysus (emptying the wine bottle): You ask me, that’s the way to do it. Ya wanna get someone’s attention? “Hey, you!” That works, right?

Horatio Cornblower: Well…

Dionysus: And women’s names! How am I supposed to remember who I’m waking up next to every afternoon? It’s a lot easier to just go with Sweetheart. Baby. Cupcake. Toots.

Horatio Cornblower: Man, I hope you never meet Covalent Blonde…

Man in Plaid #2’s Head: If I may ask, why do you use your Grecian appellation when the rest of your family seems to use their Roman names?

Dionysus (grinning as the wine bottle magically refills): Because I’m a traditionalist, that’s why. Wine, women and song…if you’ve got at least two out of those three, then you’ve got nothing to complain about, amirite?

Horatio Cornblower: Just give me a woman who doesn’t have to carry me in her pocket and I’d be pretty happy.

Dionysus (drinking): Tell that to Zeus! Well, Jupiter. He thought the new names sounded more modern, and he got into this whole ‘family brand’ kick. Hephaestus was all for it, of course…no one could pronounce his name anyway. Plus, he was really into Star Trek. But Bacchus? I don’t think so, man. That sounds like some sort of weird skin disease.

Dionysus drains half of the wine bottle and takes a closer look at Mars. He pokes the god of war on the forehead a few times and frowns.

Dionysus: OK, guys, I just have one question: Why are you playing Weekend At Bernie’s with my brother?

To be continued…