Hercules and the Modern Girl

A Bowl of Worms

A Bowl of Worms

Witnessing Hades's wrath after a foiled plan was typical. It's best to avoid the flame head until his fire burns out. Although hiding wasn't an option, Hades wanted - no, he needed to vent and take his anger out on something - specifically someones. The imps were perfect for target practice, while Nattie became the scapegoat. All three were mentally ready for the dread.

Yaya always taught Nattie that the way to a man's heart was through his stomach. Nattie set Hades's order onto the chessboard as a peace offering - three dozen worms in one large bowl. He pointed out that she had paid for the worms with his card instead of digging the soil herself. Unfortunately, the worms she'd captured escaped from their cup captivity. She refused to spend another hour compensating for the loss and caking dirt under her nails and sweat on another toga.

"You never said I couldn't," she argued softly. "You know, I could've easily taken the time to fix myself some lunch first instead of catering to your needs... but I decided against it because you're clearly having a bad day."

That's a lie. Hades could smell the strawberry vinaigrette on her breath.

She quickly lifted a finger to add another sentence before he could make a rebuttal, "And we don't have to go into details on how you let your massive ego cloud your judgment."

"You mean my hair?" Hades recalled the waitress's words before dumping tea on his head.

Nattie bit her lips to hold the laugh, "Like I said, who needs the details? Especially the part when Po-po stuffed that pitchfork up your ass."

"Were you there, sweetheart? First of all, he did no such thing," his hair flared from the ludicrous suggestion. "Okay? I wouldn't let him try. Not to mention-"

"Hades, calm down," Nattie raised her hands, releasing a breathy laugh as she elaborated. "It was a figure of speech. I didn't believe that Poseidon would literally... you know."

The god rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to shift uncomfortably.

"Well?" she pressed, lifting her hand before dropping it back by her side.

"Well, what?" he challenged.

"What? No, thank you?"

"For what?! For not interfering when my plan was falling apart? Reminding me of my epic fails? Or how about giving me twenty-nine worms instead of the full thirty-six against my order?"

Nattie pinched her brows, placing a hand on her hip, "What?"

"The bowls here don't contain a consistent number, babe. Give or take - eight to eleven at most, sometimes less," Hades clarified. "You seriously think these people take the time to count each slug before shipment. Humans are lazy, babe. Believe me. I've seen them work first hand," he raked his eyes at Nattie, including her in the category.

"No way," Nattie automatically disagreed, mostly because she didn't want to return downstairs to order another bowl.

"Read it and weep," Hades laid out his hand to make the original product container appear for her to read. Nattie huffed, stomping towards him to inspect the bowl, which contained writing on the bottom:

THE NUMBER OF WORMS MAY VARY

Instead of reacting with words, she held them back with angry noises through gritted teeth, squeezing the bowl until her fingers turned white.

"Go on, babe," he ushered her to leave. "Run up my card again and see how many worms the machine will give you this time. It's not like my money grows on trees!"