Trolling Olympus.docx - Trolling Olympus Ares was in a foul mood today He was usually in a foul mood for no real reason at all but this time he was

Trolling Olympus.docx - Trolling Olympus Ares was in a foul...

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Trolling Olympus Ares was in a foul mood today. He was usually in a foul mood for no real reason at all, but this time he was beyond irritated. He was in fact, raging! “Die you stupid rockman, die!”, Ares bellowed as he punched a nearby statue in the face with his mighty fist, then he gasped in pain silently cursing Hermes for giving him the ability to feel pain at all. “Hey, buddy, why are you throwing a temper tantrum? Did that kid play a prank on you again?”, a voice asked and Ares turned around to see Apollo. Their eyes met and the War God’s face went red as he clenched his fists and stomped one foot on the ground. “I. AM. NOT. THROWING. A. TEMPER. TANTRUM!”, Ares roared as he smashed the statue into bits with his club. “Okay whatever, man, I have a meeting in Madrid, Spain with some government officials of the European Union in an hour”, Apollo said as he picked up his briefcase and looked at his watch. “Seriously, buddy, chill. You are literally a god, whatever it is, it can’t be that bad”, the Solar Deity said and he hurried away for he had just realized that the meeting was in fact two minutes from now. Ares continued fuming as he wiped the dust off his hands and stormed down the corridor. The statue would be repaired by Hephaestus once he woke up. Meanwhile, Ares intended to meet with Zeus the Olympian Emperor, after a few minutes of marching loudly enough to give Typhon a headache, the War God arrived at a pair of golden doors. A normal person would knock on the door, and push it open, but Ares was not what one would call bright. He punched the door with his fist, forgetting that although the coating was made of gold, the interior was made of steel which was the only substance that could really harm supernatural beings. Ares bellowed in pain and fell on his back, thrashing about as the door opened and out stepped Hera.
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“Ares, this is the fifth time in three days that you have forgotten what the door is made out of”, the Olympian Queen scolded. “I am not a moron, stop it, stop calling me a moron!”, the War God shouted, kicking his feet while lying on the ground. Hera rolled her eyes and looked back at Zeus who was sitting impatiently on his throne, “Nobody was calling you a moron, and don’t put words in my mouth, Ares”, she said, opening the door wide enough that it stayed open. “Hera, can we send the brat to the Underworld this time? I don’t really want to deal with him again”, Zeus asked, as the War God sulked into the Imperial Chamber. “Let me guess, Melinoe taunted you on Facebook again”, Zeus said without looking up from the files in his lap. “Father, why won’t you do something about her?”, Ares asked, significantly calmer than he had been just 30 seconds earlier. “I wish I could, believe me, son, but she mostly hangs out in the Underworld with the Lord of the Dead so technically I have no power over her”, the Olympian Emperor said as he lifted up the files from his lap and began flipping through them while grumbling under his breath about excessive bureaucracy. “Of all the things the Chinese invented, why did it have to
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