It was the first day of the Battle of Thermopylae. 300 Spartans were battling the endless Persian horde with every ounce of their courage, skill and strength. Well, 297 actually. Scotios, Charlios and Bobios were cleaning up their mess.

"Man, did you hear about Willios' son?" asked Charlios as he jabbed his spear into the chest of a maimed Persian at his feet.

"Naw, what happened?" replied Scotios as he pushed his own javelin through the throat of another Persian with the unfortunate luck to have survived his initial disembowelment.

Charlios twisted his spear and then dislodged it from the now fully deceased Persian as he said, "Little guy was born with only nine toes. Elders tossed him right off the cliff."

"Aw, that sucks. That just plain sucks right there," Scotios stated ripping his spear from his own victim. Blood sprayed out like water from broken pipeline.

"Oh, hey guys I-," began Bobios as he walked right into the crimson stream, "Motherfucker, Scotios, how many fucking times have I told you not the do that when I'm next to you?!"

"Quiet, you pansy," snapped Charlios as he smashed a Persian's face the rest of the way in, "it's because of that kind of whining that we're finishing these guys off rather than standing on the front lines getting all the glory!"

"Well, I'm tired of having to act macho all the damn time. I got feelings and shit, you know," Bobios replied defensively.

They heard cheering suddenly and watched as dozens of Persian light infantrymen were pushed over the cliff into the rocky waters below.

"Well, at least we don't have to worry about cleaning up that awful mess," said Scotios matter-of-factly.

"Oh, thank the Gods. The Persians are retreating and King Leonidas is bringing our men back for now," said a very relieved Bobios.

"DAMN FINE SLAUGHTERING YOU'RE DOING, YOU THREE," yelled Leonidas as he passed, "YOU'VE GOT ALMOST ALL OF THEM, BUT THERE'LL BE PLENTY MORE BODIES SOON."

The three continued their mundane and monotonous task as the rest of the Spartans returned, gloating of their glory. Distracted by his frustration, Charlios sloppily nicked one man's bowels, adding the smell of shit to the already rancid odor of one thousand corpses. Bobios complained. Scotios and Charlios told him to stop being such an Athenian.

"Hey, is that another messenger I see app-," began Scotios as Bobios clapped a hand over his mouth.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Demanded Charlios in a harsh whisper, "If Stelios learns there's a messenger coming he'll kill him and Xerxes will send another thousand guys to get slaughtered and that's just another one thousand guys we have to fini-"

"HAAAAARUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!" screamed Stelios as he leapt over them all in a flash. In seconds, the entire messenger party was decimated.

"Motherfucker," swore Charlios as he threw his hands up.

Bobios shrugged then said, "The hunchback should be cleaning up, not us, but Leonidas just had to be all "tough-guy-macho-king" with him…hey I wonder where he went?"

"Who the fuck cares?" Scotios laughed, "It's not like he's the key to victory in this battle or anything!"

Scotios looked at Stelios stabbing the messenger to death with his own moustache (which was sufficiently pointy enough for the task) and then said, "Hey, why the hell do all our names end in 'ios' anyway?"

"We're Spartans, not poets," Charlios responded gruffly.

"Stelios, Dilios and don't forget that poor bastard Iosios," Scotios continued, "Why couldn't I be, like, Sexacles or Grand Master Stabbington or something?"

"Because your parents weren't retards, which is more than I can say for you," Charlios retorted.

Scotios reached for his sword and Charlios defensively did the same.

Bobios chimed in suddenly, "Hey, you guys ever think maybe we shouldn't kill so many Persians…you know, maybe if we were more civil and let them treat their wounded they'd leave us alone outta respect or something…you guys ever think about that?"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA," laughed both Scotios and Charlios.

"Not kill he says," gasped Scotios.

"Heh…heh heh," chuckled Bobios, "silly huh?"

Charlios and Scotios both stopped laughing and simultaneously stabbed Bobios. Bobios began crying in agony.

"Always with the whining…" muttered Charlios as Scotios finished Bobios with a sword to the throat.

"You happy now, Bob? Didn't splash any blood on your face this time did I?" asked Scotios.

Charlios and Scotios both try to hold their composure, but fail as they erupt into laughter again.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU LAUGHING ABOUT OVER THERE!?!" bellowed their King, "GET BACK TO WORK YOU LAZY WHORE-SONS!!!"

"He sounds pissed," Charlios said.

"Yeah, I can't really tell anymore. I think he's forgotten what an inside voice sounds like," whispered Scotios.

"Shit, I just realized we both gotta do half again the amount of work without Bobios. Nice going, ass," Charlios said, "I just wanted to wound him a little, but you had to go and-"

"OH HEY GUYS, NOW THAT YOU'VE KILLED ALL THOSE MAIMED GUYS CAN YOU BUILD THEM INTO A WALL FOR ME? THANKS, YOU GUYS ARE GREAT, REALLY!!!" shouted their leader.

"It's gonna be a long motherfucking night…"