The Roman Gods’ Annual Dinner Dance was in full swing.
Saturn was showing off her rings. Vulcan was mingling, wishing each guest a cheery “live forever and prosper”. Mars was suggesting some sort of contest involving lions, though no-one could think of anything to pit them against.
Then Bacchus knocked back his wine, burped loudly, and said to Neptune “do you know that you smell of fish?”
There was a horrified silence. This was indeed true, but the others tended to pretend otherwise, especially since Pan had once made a joke about it and now walked with his legs on backwards.
Neptune swung his trident at Bacchus, but accidentally hit Jupiter, who promptly punched Apollo in the face. Apollo then broke a chair over Mercury’s head, because no bar-brawl is complete without someone doing that.
Oaths flew. Lightning bolts flew. The ceiling fell in. The windows fell out. Bacchus fell over.
Then Fabreze, Goddess of Janitors, put her fingers to her mouth and emitted a whistle that opened black holes in the very fabric of the galaxy. The startled Gods turned to her, and she uttered the phrase that has become the mantra of all those over whom she watches.
“You needn’t think I’m cleaning this up”.