One Hundred and Eighteen

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Zeus boomed as he thundered into the room.

Hera held her lover tightly but not very tightly. She also held her husband’s seething stare as the all hairs in the area stood due to ions pouring from Zeus’s gritted teeth and ears.

“Not what,” she said, “but who.” She pinched her frightened mate’s left buttock, which contains his fifty-first fluttering eye.

“Ow,” said Argus.