Of the men who challenged Telio, all were stout and broad-shouldered, hardened of skin and buttocks. They would fight for the glory and honor of Grazi, and perhaps piles and piles of treasure and the occasional loose woman.

And all of this, so the story goes, over the honor of a woman. A hippy, full-breasted woman with lips like a couple of pillows and a tendency to drink a little too much. She was Mildred, Mildred of Grazi, Mildred the golden haired, Mildred of two minds and unsure of who she would rather lie with tonight, Mildred the hussy. She had been chosen by a husband of Grazi, her downstairs neighbor Pithameneus of Grazi; she was taken to Telio by the young and golden-locked Penis.

Outraged, Pithameneus called on his brother Agriculturus, a former farmer and swing king of Cappus. Agriculturus, or Aggie, of the bountiful forearms and delicious sweet corn; Agriculturus, the stubborn fuckhead; Agriculturus, he who has been rumored to have sampled from both sides of the plate, but still considers himself firmly heterosexual, no matter what certain coliseum graffiti might insinuate. Agriculturus came to the aid of his brother Pithameneus and brought 160 ships, all for the purpose of bringing Mildred back from Telio.

Men came to their aid, as men always seem to flock to Agriculturus, the less said about it the better. The first to arrive was Duckus, the swift, son of Doodius; Duckus the unwashed, he of the especially poor hygiene; Duckus the flatulent; Duckus, with the shortest toga in the land, he who could induce the vomitous response in many at once. He brought 6 particularly smelly ships.

The next to arrive was Jargis, the emasculated; Jargis, whose javelin throw was equivalent to that of the goddess Aphrodite, which is not a compliment; Jargis, who ornamented his shoes with rare stones and started gossip amongst the masses; Jargis, son of Unimax, who was quick to deny it. He brought twenty ships, but they were universally ridiculed by all others.

Also came Usyless, he of the lowest self-esteem in the land; Usyless, who needed constant reassurance in the slightest of tasks; Usyless, who raided the self-help section of the local library frequently, he who was quick to tears and too self-conscious of his weight; Usyless of the fad diet, he of not much help in a fight. He brought 40 ships, though no one asked for them.

Another to come was Prickus, the greatest of all assholes in Grazi; Prickus of the hurtful insults, he who was quick to borrow treasure and slower to return it; Prickus, with a girl in every port and a whore stashed away on every boat; Prickus with no friends, who sailed by himself and bossed people around until all good employees chose to jump overboard rather than face insults and endure his spiteful sarcasm for the entire voyage. He brought 1 ship, and was lucky to get it.

And finally was Killalles, the mightiest warrior of all; Killalles of Spago, son of Maximus Painus, who was somehow Roman; Killalles, who could pry stone from rock with his member, he of the arms too thick to wear a proper sweater; Killalles of the big teeth, not that anybody wanted to say such a thing in his presence if anybody knew what was good for him; Killalles who had the eye of every woman in the land, and even occasionally Agriculturus; Killalles with the single downfall of tremendous ego. He brought 89 boats, and one for the ego.

All of this for the love of a single woman, and in the humble opinion of this poet, under witness of the gods, it sure wasn’t worth it.


For more of this great story, buy Momo’s
The Idiotad Mousey Men
Joe splashed the water on his grimy skin. He laughed even harder, nearly passing out. “Golly, Britches, if that water don’t feel good after all that train dust. We should wash up good, ‘fore we go looking for work. You smell like something crawled up your armpits and died.”

A Fistful of Tannenbaum, Chapter 8: Unpleasant Entry
It was a long, treacherous journey I won’t waste words describing. But Jed found the bottom, lighting the area with the eye of the synthetic sea monster they had slain on the way down.

The Secrets of Michelangelo
Banger directed his attention to a man, dead, swinging from a rope from the ceiling. The rope came right down through God’s navel. What a shame. That had been Banger’s favorite part of the painting.

A Fistful of Tannenbaum, Chapter 7: Bomb of Ages
“I don’t get it,” said Jed, the same as when he read “Doonesbury.” “If Ostrich is the most powerful secret organization in the world already, why would they have to steal the mega-bomb?”