Get to Work, Hercules!, page 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER I: Big Baby
CHAPTER II: Big Bang
CHAPTER III: Big Boo-Boo!
CHAPTER IV: Big Tattletale
CHAPTER V: Not-So-Big Adventure
CHAPTER VI: Big Foot
CHAPTER VII: Big Job
CHAPTER VIII: Big Mouth
CHAPTER IX: Big Pot
CHAPTER X: Big Kick
CHAPTER XI: Big Boar
CHAPTER XII: Really Big Job
CHAPTER XIII: Big Bird
CHAPTER XIV: Big Girdle
CHAPTER XV: Big Goodbye
CHAPTER XVI: Big Burn
CHAPTER XVII: Big Match
CHAPTER XVIII: Big Chair
CHAPTER XIX: Big Apple
CHAPTER XX: Big Dog
EPILOGUE
KING HADE'S QUICK-AND-EASY
GUIDE TO THE MYTHS
AN EXCERPT FROM THE BIG FAT BOOK OF GREEK MYTHS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
GLOSSARY
DISCUSS AND WRITE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
BUY THE BOOK
Yep, it’s me again, K.H.R.O.T.U.—King Hades, Ruler of the Underworld. I’m back to let you in on the T.R.U.T.H.—the Totally Real Unadulterated Trustworthy History—of another Greek myth.
Until I came along, I’ll bet everything you knew about the myths was one big F.I.B.—Factually Inaccurate Bull-hooey. For that, you can thank my little brother, The Brave And Mighty Zeus—T-BAMZ for short. Zeus is the slimiest myth-o-maniac (old Greek speak for “liar liar pants on fire”) in the world. No, make that the universe. Zeus lies in the A.M. He lies in the P.M. He’d lie to the F.B.I. and the C.I.A. if he had half a chance. And for sure he lied when he put together his version of T.B.F.B.O.G.M., The Big Fat Book of Greek Myths. You’ve heard of the hero, Hercules, right? Check out the Zeus-approved version of the myth about him. Go on, read it straight from the pages of the B.F.B.O.G.M.:
Zeus makes it sound as if Hercules did the twelve labors all by himself. Not a chance. Hercules was strong all right. He had great big muscles. But he had an itty-bitty brain. The T.R.U.T.H. is, if it hadn’t been for a certain street-smart lion, a loyal nine-headed monster, and a quick-thinking Ruler of the Underworld, Hercules wouldn’t have made it past Labor I. Here’s another bit of T.R.U.T.H. for you: big muscles can only do so much. Without brains, muscles are just . . . well, bulgy things in your arms and legs.
In addition to big muscles, Hercules also had a big temper. It got him into some mighty big trouble. Who do you think helped Hercules out of all the jams he got himself into? Take a wild guess. It wasn’t T-BAMZ. No, Zeus was too busy hurling T-bolts and making proclamations. He never took the time to give the kid a hand. The T.R.U.T.H. is, it was always U.H.T.T.R.—Uncle Hades To The Rescue.
Sit down. Put your feet up. Let me tell you the real story of Hercules. I remember everything about the night that great big baby was born. . . .
“Stare that Centaur down, Cyclops!” I chanted as I boogied over to pick up my Helmet of Darkness. I put it on, and—POOF! I vanished.
I, Hades, Ruler of the Underworld, was dancing around my palace. Not that dignified, maybe, but that night, I was too excited about the big wrestling match at Palace Stadium to sit still. The winner would earn the Wrestling Immortals Championship Girdle—(old speak for “belt”). “Eagle-Eye” Cyclops, the One-Eyed Giant, was up against “Half ’n’ Half” Centaur, who was part man, part horse. As always, I had my money on the big one-eyed guy.
I kept on chanting—“You can make him blink, Cyclops!”—as I tossed my helmet into my K.H.R.O.T.U. wallet. It’s a magical wallet, and it expands to hold whatever I put inside. Then it shrinks back down to fit in my pocket. Nice, huh?
Next, I bopped down to the kitchen. I tossed some Ambro-Salt and a couple of cans of Necta-Cola into the wallet, too. Ambrosia and nectar—the food and drink of the gods. That’s what keeps us young and good-looking—forever! Now, whatever mortal food I might have to eat, I could sprinkle on a little Ambro-Salt, chug a Necta-Cola, and turn it into a meal fit for a god.
“Go, Cyclops, go!” I chanted, doing a little spin.
I’d made the rounds of my Underworld kingdom earlier that evening. Everything was shipshape. My queen, Persephone, goddess of spring, was working up on earth, making the flowers bloom. So I had nothing better to do than head up to Palace Stadium in Thebes to catch the big match. I grabbed a slice of leftover pizza from the fridge and headed out into the night. Cerberus, my three-headed guard dog, trotted at my heels.
“Woof! Woof! Woof?” he barked as I made a beeline for the royal stables.
“No, you have to stay here tonight, Cerbie,” I told him.
“Awoooo!” his third head howled in protest.
That head had started acting up lately. I made a mental note to give it a little extra training when I got back.
“You have to guard my kingdom, Cerbie,” I said. “That’s your job!”
My dog turned his back on me and sat down in protest. I knew he’d get over it, so I continued on my way to the stables. I hitched my steeds, Harley and Davidson, to my sportiest little chariot and drove up to earth.
Back in the old days, the trip took me nine days. But now, thanks to the shortcut that Cerberus had shown me, I could get up to earth in only a few hours. That night, I made great time. Before long, I drove out of a cave, and I was on earth.
I parked in the usual lot near Athens. Then I began chanting the astro-traveling spell. This is a little plus of being a god. When we’re on earth, all we have to do is recite a certain godly spell containing the ZIP code of where we want to go, and—ZIP!—we’re there. And so I chanted a spell for Palace Stadium.
ZIP!
I looked around. I had expected to see wrestlers and trainers and hordes of loyal fans waving pennants and yelling, “Kill him, Cyclops!”
Instead, I found myself in a deserted room. It had marble floors and tiny little windows way up high on the walls. I started walking. A few flickering lanterns lit the hallways. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. By some astro-traveling mix-up, instead of going to Palace Stadium, I’d landed in the basement of the royal palace of Thebes.
I chanted the spell again.
ZIP!
I stayed right where I was.
I figured the astro-traveling network was down. I decided to make my way out of the royal palace and try again. I hurried up a staircase to my left and reached a landing. I heard voices. Quickly, I took my helmet from my wallet. I put it on. POOF! No one could see me now.
I tiptoed to the room where I’d heard the voices. I stuck my invisible head in at the door. A nursemaid was holding a bundle wrapped in a blanket. She was showing the bundle to a young mortal woman sitting up in a bed. That young woman—I’d met her somewhere, I was sure of it. But where? I couldn’t think.
“Rejoice, Princess Alcmene,” said the nursemaid, holding up what turned out to be a great big baby. “It’s a boy!”
Alcmene? I knew that name. But who was she?
I was about to tiptoe away when the princess spoke.
“A boy?” she said. “Oh, dear.”
I stopped. In those days, everyone wanted boy babies. It made no sense, even way back then, but that’s how it was. So I waited to find out why this princess was unhappy to have a boy.
“Be glad!” said the nurse. “He is big and strong. He looks like a child of a god.”
“He is the child of a god,” said Princess Alcmene. “His father is Zeus, remember?”
Zeus? Ye gods! Was there nowhere I could go without hearing his blasted name?
It all came flooding back to me then. Of course I’d met Alcmene—at her wedding to my little brother. She and Zeus had been married for only a short time. But it was evidently long enough for Zeus to have fathered a son. And if this was Zeus’s son, that made the great big baby my nephew. I was his uncle!
Of course Zeus’s main hobby was founding a Zeus Dynasty. He had hundreds of children. Which meant that I had hundreds of nieces and nephews. But I’d never seen any of them when they were this brand new. Uncle Hades. I liked the sound of it.
“Suns and moons!” exclaimed the nursemaid. “Zeus is married to Hera now. She hates Zeus’s children by his former wives. Especially his sons.”
That was the truth. Hera was Queen of the Universe now. She had it all. But she was still jealous of Zeus’s exes and their offspring.
“I know,” the princess said sadly. “We cannot risk Hera’s jealous rage. She might destroy all of Thebes. Quick, take the baby to that peasant woman who sews for me. She has twelve children of her own. Surely she won’t mind one more. Ask her to care for him until we figure out what to do.”
The nursemaid nodded. She wrapped another blanket around the big baby. Then she held him out to his mother for a kiss. I flattened myself against the wall as the nurse rushed past me out of the room.
“You’re a heavy bundle, you are,” she said to the big baby as she went by.
I hurried after her. When I’m invisible, I always try to find someone to follow. That way I don’t have to worry about anyone seeing doors that seem to open on their own.
I followed that nursemaid, down the hallway and out of the palace. Once outside, I began chanting the astro-traveling spell to take me to the wrestling match. But halfway through, I stopped. I wanted to make sure that great big baby got where he was going. The kid was my nephew, after all. And besides, Cyclops was a star. There wo
I tailed the nursemaid through the winding streets of Thebes and out the city gates. A full moon shone that night, lighting our way. Far down the road, I saw the lights of Palace Stadium. The sight made me weak in the knees. I had to get there in time to see Cyclops put Centaur in a quadruple-leg hold.
I decided I could trust the nursemaid to deliver the big baby safely to the peasant, after all. I’d just started chanting again when the baby began to fuss.
“Stars and comets!” said the nursemaid. “Don’t tell me you’re hungry.”
The big baby kept fussing.
“Great constellations!” the nursemaid exclaimed. “I must find you some milk.” She peered into the field beside the road. In the far corner, some cows lay sleeping.
“I’ll move faster without you,” said the nursemaid as she put the big fussy baby down in the tall grass by the side of the road. “I’ll be back with some milk.” And off she ran toward the cows.
I wanted to call after her. I mean, you don’t just leave a new baby lying on the side of the road! But she was already out of sight.
Now the big baby stopped fussing and started crying for real.
His screeching was awful. I put my hands over my sensitive godly ears.
A cloud passed over the moon. I looked down the road. The torches of Palace Stadium glowed in the distance.
I looked down at the big baby. His mouth was wide open. He was really wailing now. I’d never spent so much time with a just-born baby. I didn’t know what to do. But I knew I couldn’t go off and leave him there bawling.
I sat down beside the big baby.
“Be quiet,” I told him, in the nicest possible way.
He kept crying.
I was invisible. So the baby didn’t know his Uncle Hades was there. He went on screaming.
I stuck out a finger and tickled him under the chin. He stopped crying. I tickled him some more. He started making happy, burbling sounds.
The nursemaid would be back soon, I told myself as I tickled. The second she returned, I’d start chanting. I’d definitely get to the stadium in time to see Eagle-Eye body-slam ol’ Half ’n’ Half.
I kept tickling that big baby. He looked like Zeus all right. Puffy cheeks. Rolls of fat on his neck. Not that there was much neck. Not much hair, either. But on a baby, it all looked sort of cute.
I walked my fingers down the big baby’s chest and started tickling his tummy. Me, Hades, dreaded Ruler of the Underworld, going “Kitchy-kitchy-coo!” I couldn’t believe it.
The big baby’s cooing and burbling made me forget to keep my guard up. I never saw anyone coming down the road. The first thing I heard was a voice saying, “Look! A baby!”
I glanced up.
Ye gods!
It was Hera!
Hera stood above me, staring down at the great big baby. Her best girlfriend of the moment, Athena, the goddess of wisdom, stood right beside her.
Oh, was I glad I was invisible. So, so glad! Hera looked about as friendly as a viper. Athena may be goddess of wisdom. But she’s also goddess of war. She was dressed, as always, in a full suit of armor, complete with helmet. She’s not exactly a goddess you’d want to meet on a lonely road at night.
Hera bent down and picked up the great big baby. “He’s heavy!” she said. She eyed him closely. “He looks like someone I know.”
“Oh, all babies look alike,” said Athena.
Hera frowned. “No, he definitely reminds me of someone. But who?”
Athena whisked the big baby from Hera’s arms. “Let’s take him to that city over there and find him a nursemaid before he starts squalling.”
The baby’s real nursemaid was hiding behind an olive tree, watching. Clearly she wasn’t willing to tangle with these two powerful immortals. Who could blame her?
The goddesses carried the big baby toward Thebes. I didn’t trust Hera one bit. So, with a last longing look at Palace Stadium, I took off after them. They went straight to the royal palace. They brushed past the servants and took the baby right to Princess Alcmene.
“We found this big baby by the side of the road,” Athena said. “Take care of him, will you? He may amount to something one day.”
The princess could barely hide her joy as she took back her baby.
“I’ve got it!” Hera exclaimed suddenly. “He looks just like my husband! Why, if this is Zeus’s baby, I’ll—”
Athena grabbed Hera’s elbow. “Let’s go home and see if anyone is sacrificing any bulls to us tonight.”
Hera took one last look at the baby. “He is Zeus’s son,” she hissed. “I can tell!”
Hera liked fragrant bull-sacrifice smoke as much as any goddess, so she let Athena yank her away. But Hera looked back. I could tell from her face that she was planning something special for that baby. And it wasn’t any birthday party, either.
The big baby was in danger. I decided to stick around. Because by this time, I, Uncle Hades, had grown fond of the kid. Okay, he was Zeus’s son. But he was a mere mortal. T-BAMZ would never pay any attention to him, that was for sure. My queen, Persephone, lived down in the Underworld with me for only three months a year. We’d decided that our odd living arrangements would make it hard to raise a family, so we had no children of our own. This big baby was my blood relative. He was as close as I was likely to get to having a son.
I also knew that when it came to revenge, no one held a candle to Hera.
So I stayed in the nursery that night, watching invisibly over Princess Alcmene and the big baby. I looked out the nursery window. I saw the Palace Stadium torchlights blink out. I wondered who’d won the big match. I hoped Eagle-Eye had pinned Half ’n’ Half’s flank to the mat.
“Close your eyes, little baby,” sang Princess Alcmene softly. “I mean, close your eyes, big baby.”
“Goo-ga!” burbled the big baby as Princess Alcmene tiptoed from the room. He wasn’t one bit sleepy.
I listened to the big baby gooing and gaaing. I also listened to my stomach growling. A single slice of leftover pizza isn’t exactly a dinner fit for a god. I was growing weak from hunger! Around midnight, I decided to make a quick dash into Thebes to get a bite. I knew the perfect spot—a fast-service all-night Greek diner. Hey, a god’s got to eat! I astro-traveled to the diner and ordered a shish kebab.
“Would you like some fries with that?” the counter mortal asked.
“Definitely,” I told him. “Just make it fast, will you?”
My order came in no time. I sprinkled on the Ambro-Salt, chugged down one of my Necta-Colas, and astro-traveled straight back to the palace. ZIP! I landed on the steps, and my godly ears were filled with the sound of a horrible, ichor-freezing scream. (Ichor—it’s what we gods have instead of blood.)
I raced to the nursery, not bothering with my helmet. The nursemaid stood in the doorway, shrieking. I dodged past her and into the room. I saw why she was screaming.
Two big blue serpents had managed to slither into the cradle. They had wound themselves around the big baby’s neck. They were trying to choke the life out of him!
The princess ran into the nursery. She began screaming even louder than the nursemaid.
The palace guards rushed in behind her, their torches blazing. They drew their swords.
But at the cradle, they stopped.
They were too late.
The baby gripped the throat of one big blue serpent in his left hand. In his right, he gripped the throat of the other. He was waving the snakes around like playthings.
“Goo-goo ga-ga!” he cooed. Then: BANG! He knocked the snakes together. When their heads met, the serpents sank their venomous fangs into each other’s necks. The baby tossed them to the floor, stone dead.
“Nice work, kid!” I said.
Princess Alcmene turned. “Hades?” she said, clearly startled. “What are you doing here?”
“I, uh, had a little astro-traveling mix-up,” I said, and I told her how I’d ended up in her palace. And how I’d heard Hera’s threat. “I thought I’d stick around and make sure no harm came to your baby.”
“Thank you, Hades,” said Princess Alcmene. “When I was married to Zeus, you always were my favorite brother-in-law.”
“Not that the kid needed any help,” I added. “He’s a born wrestler. Not even a day old yet and he’s already won his first match.”
