As Hephaestus was walking down Rhea Street on Mount Olympus, he noticed his wife, Aphrodite, kissing Hermes, the messenger-God, next to the area's one and only Burger God (very well-known for its char-broiled Whoppers).
'Wait just a tootin' minute,' he said aloud to himself. 'Why is my wife kissing Hermes? She is supposed to be devoted to me!' He was furious. It was very rare when Hephaestus became angry for any reason, so he was certain to have taken notice of his odd and unusual reaction. 'I must settle this like a calm, rational person,' he told himself at last. 'This matter can very easily be resolved.' He sighed. 'I shall speak to her when she returns home. Until then, I am going to go home and rest a while--think things through.'
And with that thought, Hephaestus made his way home, being absolutely sure not to look in the direction of the scene Aphrodite and Hermes was putting on for all the gods to see; however, it was not easy.
After several hours of waiting, Aphrodite finally came home--and Hephaestus was there waiting for her. It was now dark, so she fumbled through the room to find a light. One was turned on before she could come across one. It startled her so! She whipped around toward the direction of the source of the light, only to find Hephaestus sitting in his favorite easy chair, a glass of red wine in one hand and a grape bushel in the other. He had the most peculiar grin on his face.
'How was your day, dearest?' he asked his wife charmingly. 'Did you enjoy yourself?'
'Why, yes, thank you,' she said cautiously, wondering why on Olympus he was acting so out of the ordinary. 'How was yours?' she asked after a...