You know, Anonymous, I was all set to write this profound blog post about my time in Elysium. I had my thoughts organized, my coffee in hand, and the perfect view of the golden fields. But no, these so-called ‘heroes’ just couldn’t leave me alone. Before I could even type the first sentence, a voice boomed from behind me. ‘Aherocles! Still trying to be a writer? Shouldn’t you be polishing my armor instead?’ It was none other than Achilles himself, looking as smug as ever with his impenetrable heel on full display.
I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore him, but then Odysseus sauntered up, a sly grin on his face. ‘Hey now, don’t be too hard on our aspiring author here, Achilles. Maybe she’s writing about your many… shortcomings.’ Achilles bristled at that, and before long, the two of them were arguing louder than a pair of drunken centaurs. I threw up my hands in exasperation and muttered under my breath. This is why I can never get anything done around here.
But wait, it gets better! Just as I was about to give up entirely, Heracles came bounding over like an overexcited puppy. ‘Ooh! Is this a party? Can I join in?’ Without waiting for an answer, he plopped himself down next to me and started peering at my screen. ‘What’s this? A blog post? Mind if I add some of my own stories?’ Before I could stop him, he had hijacked my keyboard and started typing away. Now my carefully crafted thoughts are interspersed with tales of his twelve labors and how he totally would have saved Troy single-handedly if given the chance.
>Soulkyn