[b]Dyssia![/b]

The God of Love pulls back his face and sneers.

"Of course not," said Aphrodite, voice dripping with contempt. "Only a [i]fool [/i]shits where he eats. Hera fancies herself the Queen of Marriage; look how well that works out for her. Poor idiot Ares ate his own bloody teeth on the battlefield, and we all saw where Athena's cravings took her. Hermes took it upon herself to rearrange the roads of the entire galaxy with mortal hands and -" he laughed as an ominous shape rose over the horizon, "- she'll tell you more about it herself."

It was amazing how beautiful love could feel from the inside; it was shocking how hideous it could appear from the outside. As Aphrodite draws himself back - petulantly picking up his crushed cigarette and trying to straighten it out - you wonder how anyone ever found him beautiful.

"The Gods are not immune to hubris either," said Aphrodite, turning away. "And you are right, that all goes back to them not being satisfied with the way things were. In the beginning. When I created them! All this suffering is because they could not be satisfied with what they were given!"

The thundering, belching, smoking, burning wreckage of the mobile fortress lurches over the horizon. The rotting corpse of Hermes raises her bloody finger to the sky and it extends into a long, razor sharp arrow, bone white against the blood red moon.

"How many times do I need to teach you horrible children this lesson?" said Aphrodite, lighting his dirty and bent cigarette and stuffing it into his mouth.