[Mister Saint]: 79.Contest Entries.A day for Apollo

For mature audiences only.

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          "Are you sure? I am the god of Reason you know. And the god of Poetry. And music. And the sun. And so forth. Is this new nectar of yours really going to do away with the overwhelming stress of my life?"
          Dionysus gazed quietly at the divinity who had, through manipulations of black, evil sorcery of some sort, managed to combine 'lecherous' with 'dull' for a personality that drove him absolutely bonkers. Never in his immortal life had the god of the festival known such a self-important egomaniac as was Apollo; only Narcissus had ever come close, and he had only fallen in love with himself because he was completly plastered when he looked in the mirror. What was worse, was that Apollo could have had any woman he wanted, mortal or not, and yet he possessed this lovely knack for choosing the ones who would not have gone under his tunic even if he had a sack of gold tied to his divine instrument. This of course did not sit well with a person who was stuck up even by Olympian standards.
          Due to this lack of solid judgment on his part, every so often the sun god could be found pacing back and forth in his lounge atop the mountain, ranting and raving for hours at a time before he inevitably issued a plague or an evil curse upon the city where the latest rejecting woman held residence. Dionysus, for his part, detested two particular things about this arrangement: firstly, it made Apollo predictable as hell. And secondly, it cost the lives of beautiful women; beautiful women with whom Dionysus very much wanted to share his personal ambrosia.
          "Of course it will, you have my word," the god of wine and women answered, holding out a cup to Apollo. "Just drink, handsome Apollo, and the burden atop your Herculean shoulders shall be reduced to a feather's weight."
          Apollo took the cup gratefully, and turned it up, thinking that he very much deserved such an elixir for himself. "Ah... it tastes quite good. I..." he blinked. His eyes glazed, and Dionysus grinned. Jackpot. "Hey... wha..." the sun god shook his head, fruitlessly. "Whasha put in this... stuff?"
          "Well, I'm glad you asked," the god of gettin' nekkid and making bad decisions answered, taking his Adonian compatriot by the arm. "There are distilled essences of eighteen different liquors inside, plus syrup brewed from our own sweet nectar, and you know what else? I even got Hestia to give me some of her own nectar to put in there. Oh! Milk from the breast of the goddess of the hearth just makes it sing! Don't you agree?" Apollo nodded dumbly.
          "Fuggin'... got a great rack. Y'know... you could s... set a drink tray on 'em things."
          "Well put, and so clearly enunciated, my idiotic friend. So now that you are completely off your gourd, I am going to pay you back for every woman you ruined with your pent-up homosexual frustration, savvy?" Dionysus's smile only brightened as he led Apollo to the fabled Sun Chariot, shoving him into the driver's seat without care or respect. "Go and tell your oracle at Delphi that you need a place to pass out. Oh..." Dionysus smiled a venemous, mischevious smile. "Don't be surprised if you experience a few urges that may or not occur normally, eh? Try not to throw up in there, yeah? You can pay me for the drink later."
          With that, Dionysus whipped the flank of the nearest horse, and the Sun Chariot lurched across the sky. As it was nightime, the flaming horses did not give off the light of day, but the roaring drunk Apollo was certain that something was amiss. He looked back at the waving Dionysus, and a thought struck the diluted thought center of his alcoholed-fueled brain.
          "I'll show you, you poser," he slurred, and dragged himself to his feet, lifting his tunic above his waist so that his heavenly buttocks protruded over the edge of the chariot. "Suck on that you... you impudent Grecian whores! I'm a god! How dare you say no to me! Look at what you are missing you ingrates! This is... a butt that could launch a thousand ships!"

          Dionysus laughed all the way to sleep that night. Predictably, the morning saw Olympus's pantheon in an uproar, the likes of which hadn't been heard since Eros accidentally dropped a quiver of love-arrows into Hades's guest bed. Although, looking back upon it, hordes love-starved zombies rising up from the underworld was pretty funny in retrospect. Regardless, this next day, when Apollo's hangover had subsided, a furious Zeus felt the need to punish him for his drunken irresponsibility by declaring that, after driving the Sun chariot each day, Apollo would have to light up each night as well.
          "W-what do you mean, my liege?" asked a still-hungover Apollo, an ice pack pressed to his head. "How am I to light the night when the steeds will not produce their fire at night? Those beasts are one of a kind, even for us. They can never be duplicated!"
          Zeus simply smiled his king of the gods' smile. All those in attendance, ranging from gods and goddesses to nymphs and beasts, ghosts and spirits, could tell that the highest of the high had some interesting plans for the devious divinity.He lifted his ring-adorned hands, the magic of change casting the soft scent of cinnamon into the air. 
          The gods and goddesses standing behind Apollo snickered, all in unison.
          "What?" Asked the greatest poser in the known universe. Dionysus laughed loudest of all, and provided a mirror for Apollo to see the results of Zeus's punishment. His jaw hung open in perfect shock as Zeus made the unnecessary explanation for the halo of golden light emenating from beneath the tunic of Apollo.
          "Behold the light of the full moon," he laughed at the top of his voice, "hail Apollo, God of the glimmering gludes!"