Troy: Dodgeball

Achilles and Hector; 2005

Author's Notes: A spin-off of our first story, LOTR: the Fellowship of the Dodgeball, with a Troy twist. Don't sue us; we're certifiably insane.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

In Troy, there lies the scene. The enormous stone gymnasium is full to capacity with warriors. On one side are the Greek spectators, the other, Trojan warriors and courtiers.

"Let's welcome the visiting team, the Greeks!" called Helen less than welcomingly, lazily waving a tiny yellow Greek flag that said "Go Greeks!" on one side and "Greeks Suck" on the reverse.

First, Achilles swaggered into the gymnasium and stood ferociously at the half-court mark, his breathing fierce and defined. He was fuming, as usual. He thought it made him look studly to stand there, straight as a board, nose uplifted, lip stuck out, slightly squinting, eyes flaming mad…. He thought when all of these characteristics were met, no maiden alive could resist him. Fortunately, he was wrong.

Shortly after Achilles had sufficiently finished displaying his machismo, Agamemnon and Menelaus filed in, employing all their pomp and ceremony.

"Where is he?! Where is he?!" roared Menelaus, suddenly losing his air of decorum. "His every breath insults me!"

Agamemnon placed a warning hand on Menelaus' shoulder. "Not yet, brother," he said feigning placidity, and the two joined Achilles at the half-court mark.

Next, Odysseus and a few other random Greek heroes made their leisurely way in.

"What are we waiting for?" asked an ungainly Ajax, yawning in the ennui. "Let's just grab the girl and get out of here!"

"No," said Odysseus sagaciously, rolling his eyes. "That would be really dumb."

"And let's welcome the home team, the Trojans!" cried Helen, enthusiastically waving a largish blue flag with a horse-head on it.

Impetuous Paris strolled in first, gawking at this and that as he usually did, while combing his curly brown locks with a shiny golden comb. When he noticed that people were staring at him in disapproval, he grinned sheepishly and tossed the comb behind him.

And suddenly through the door strode Glorious Hector. At least, he tried to stride through the door, but his spear was too tall and it became wedged between the doorjamb and the floor. And so Hector came through the entrance but the spear did not.

"Basket of bananas!" he yelled. The spear didn't seem to mind the insult. It didn't budge.

"It's alright, Hector," called Andromache from the bleachers. "You're not allowed to have any weapons anyway."

"Oh, green guava," muttered Hector. "I was going to sneak it in, on the sly. Oh well." He finally strode out and regarded Achilles ominously.

And after Hector came the venerable Priam in his chariot. He gave obeisance to Menelaus and Agamemnon, who bowed in return. Disembarking, Priam struck the horse's flank and the untenanted chariot rolled away. Not wasting any time, Priam rolled up the sleeve of his richly-embroidered blue and white robe and flexed his rather miniscule muscle. He also gave a "fierce" grunt of intimidation for good measure. He was astonished at the unaccountable lack of trembling he saw amongst the Greeks. Instead, he was met by uproarious laughter.

"Ha-ha-ha!" roared Agamemnon, all but rolling on the floor. "What a hoot!"

Hector stepped over to his father and whispered discreetly in his ear. Priam's face dropped like a lead balloon. He had failed to remember (and Hector had reminded him) that he was a senile old man whose fighting days were ended, and who had best keep behind his son if he wanted to survive.

After a piece, a number of Trojan warriors to match the number of Greek heroes entered, loosening their fingers in anticipation. A few hollered and shook their fists at Achilles; they really hated him. (I don't blame them. He's a jerk.)

Finally, Helen spoke. "Now that we have all arrived," she began, reading off a card, "I would like to thank you for the extreme magnanimity you have displayed by agreeing to participate in this peaceful solution to all-out war. During this daylong respite from fighting, no Trojan or Greek will engage in combat but the ones assembled on the gymnasium floor at present, within the impenetrable walls of Troy. No more will either army devastate, and with a bit of luck, resentments will be forgotten, as the tempest of war becomes a thing of the past. We can solve our problems more peaceably! We—"

"Get to the point!" bellowed Agamemnon, having by then lost what small measure of patience he had.

"Oh, yes," continued Helen. "To solve this dispute, both sides will engage in a match of dodgeball. If the Mycenaeans are victorious, Troy will submit to you and I will return to Menelaus. If the Trojans be the victors, the Mycenaeans will remove themselves from Trojan land and Paris shall have me. Are we all in agreement?"

"Yes, yes, whatever!" said Menelaus. "Let's just get started already!"

"Very good," said Helen. "Wait for the signal."

Briseis rolled in a basket loaded with metal spiked balls. She placed them along the white line with care, scurrying back to the bleachers in a hurry when she noticed Achilles glancing at her with interest….

"Are we ready?" asked Helen.

Menelaus' grotesque features were pervaded with revulsion. "I've been ready my entire life!" he growled. "And if you stall any longer, I'm gonna go insane!"

"—er…" Hector finished Menelaus' sentence for him, but fortunately, the comment went unheard.

An almost tangible silence fell over the entire gymnasium.

"Dodgeball!" Helen finally cried. All hell broke loose.

Achilles snapped loose and scooped up two tiny, spiked metal balls. He hurled them forcefully at Hector, who ducked just in time. Unfortunately, however, they whizzed right over his head, giving him a monk-do like Martin Luther. Hector reached up and felt his head. "AUGHHHH!" he screamed. "My hair!" But unlike Paris would have, he got over it fairly quickly. He snatched another spiked ball up and lobbed it powerfully at Achilles.

The Greek quickly leapt to the side, but one spike ripped past him, leaving a long, trailing dent in his golden armor. Achilles was stunned, but the emotion quickly turned to fury. Yanking a dodgeball out of a surprised Agamemnon's hands (who had been just about to throw), employing every ounce of his power, he launched it at Hector.

But the prince leapt into the air, performing perfect Chinese splits, and the ball sailed right under his legs, a narrow miss. Unfortunately, it pinned King Priam, who had been cowering behind him, to the back wall by his regal robe.

"Phew!" sighed Priam. "That was close!" He attempted to pull the ball out of the wall and failed. It was in way too far.

"Paint balls!" called Briseis, shoving a large basketful of balls, plastered in blue paint, onto the court. Menelaus and Agamemnon roared with laughter and snatched up several of them. Selecting the natural target of King Priam, stuck helplessly to the back wall, they drew back, preparing to loose the balls.

"Parley?" Priam tried.

Menelaus laughed cruelly. "This ain't the Caribbean, partner." Both kings hurled their spheres at him.

The aging Priam shrieked, pitching left, and only just missed both of the orbs.

"Humph!" snorted Agamemnon. He grabbed a few more balls and proceeded to hurl them at Priam faster than a machine gun. Priam dodged left and right manically, and…was it magic? He eluded every one of them!

Being extremely daring, Hector sprinted left and hurriedly freed his father. When they backed away from the wall, they saw to their amazement the shape of Priam, outlined in splattered blue paint on the wall.

"It is a sign from the go—" began Priam.

"Shut it!" ordered Hector. "I've had quite enough of that to last me a while."

By then, steam was billowing from the furious Agamemnon and Menelaus' ears. Seizing the last ball that remained on the Greek side, Agamemnon drew back, aiming carefully, and lobbed it. It struck Priam right in the rear, leaving a very noticeable round blue spot on his robe.

"My robe!" Priam sobbed in dismay. "Oh well, they say blue is the new black this season. Not that I'm much for fashion." He waddled to the bleachers, disqualified (but he's lucky he survived anyhow).

Suddenly, it dawned on Hector. Where was Paris? Hector peered over at the stands, where there were some massive track mats. Underneath them was Paris, curled into a tight ball, arms covering his head. Hector raced over and dragged him out by his ankles.

"Oh, don't, Hector," cried Paris, trying to push his skirt back down. "My skirt will go up over my head."

Hector began to laugh. "No wonder you don't want anyone to see your pants. They look like…like…it's a thong! Har-har-har!"

"It's not funny," said Paris, sullenly. "All of my pants were dirty, so I had to borrow some of Helen's."

Upon hearing this, Helen stomped over and smacked Paris across the face. "You're wearing my pants!" she cried. "How dare you!"

"Waaaa!" sobbed Paris. "I'm a poor, pitiful, pathetic, sorry, loser! Please don't hurt me!" So everyone left him alone. And it was then that Paris had an idea….

Odysseus and Tecton were glaring at each other.

"Okay," announced Helen. "Now, in order to throw, you must grab a partner and do the lawnmower."

"What's a lawnmower?" asked Ajax.

"A goat!" replied Tecton. "They mow lawns quite proficiently, I understand."

"How do you do the lawnmower?" asked Ajax.

"Oh," replied Helen, "it's easy. You walk on your hands, and have your partner hold your feet."

"You mean like a wheelbarrow?" asked Ajax.

"No!" said Helen. "Wheelbarrows have not been invented yet."

"Neither have lawn mowing goats," put in Ajax.

"Oh, who really cares?" implored Helen. "Dodgeball!"

Ajax hurriedly seized Odysseus' legs with one hand and pulled him up, impelling the Greek to scramble across the floor on his hands, for fear of being dragged. With the other hand, Ajax snatched up another blue paint ball and hurled it into Trojan airspace. It struck Lysander in the face. He was out.

Hector seized Tecton by his legs. "Tecton, grab a ball!" he ordered. Tecton did as he was told and snatched up a barbed ball. Hector spun him rapidly around and tossed him forcefully up and into the Greeks. Tecton arrived at the zenith of his fall and released the ball. It found its mark in Menelaus' hideous face. A lively cheer went up from the Trojan throng, especially Helen, while the Greek mob was filled with disappointment. Some Greek physicians dragged Menelaus away to the medical facility, where he did recover over time, though his face resembled a pit bull that had been hit by a semi thereafter. He was most definitely out.

While all of this had been happening, Paris decided to be clever and dug a tunnel underneath the court (and with a runcible spoon from the Royal Kitchens no less!) and over to the Greek side. Once he had reached the desired place, he smiled cunningly and readied his spiked ball for action. Suddenly, he burst up through the floor, and with a cry of bravery that he had never given before, he stabbed Achilles in the heel with one of the spikes on the ball.

"EYAHHH!" cried Achilles, the unexpected death creeping over his body. "I'm killed!" With that, he toppled over and died. Nobody cared.

"Whoops," said Paris. "That must have been his Achilles' heel. Har-har, that's a good one!" And so, laughing, he crawled back under the floor before anyone noticed him and over to the other side.

"Regular dodgeball!" screeched Helen.

Hector was soon gifted with an exceptionally witty idea. He raced over to the bleachers and quickly pulled out a flat track mat. Running back out, he employed it as a shield. Ajax, wishing to burst Hector's "glorious" bubble, sprinted forward and launched a ball at the Trojan prince. It lodged itself in the mat, almost striking Hector in the face. Hector stared at the spikes that poked through and his eyes narrowed. Hurling the shield aside, he snatched up a spiked ball and lobbed it powerfully at Ajax. The Greek endeavored to leap out-of-the-way, but this particular ball was special. It had built-in homing sensors that followed through, knocking him right in the gut. Ajax didn't budge, so Hector hurled another, striking him in the chest. Ajax fell. The Greeks dragged him off the court, but there wasn't much the doctors could do. He spent the rest of his existence floating around in the Underworld with Hades (probably that greenish guy with the helmet in Hercules that's climbing on Hades when he's all, "Get your slimy souls off me! Yahhhhhh!" at the end.).

"Blind dodgeball!" howled Helen.

Everybody pulled out bandanas and blindfolded themselves.

"Ahh, it's dark!" yelled Odysseus, who had an acute fear of the dark and tight places. "Where did everybody go?" No one answered. "HEELPP ME!" he cried. "HEELPP ME!" Then, Odysseus ran aimlessly in circles about the floor, tripping over Achilles' body. Shrieking, he leapt to his feet and ran straight into the back wall of the stone gymnasium, knocking himself out cold.

Achilles started to twitch. Tecton uncovered one of his eyes to see what was going on. Most everyone was crawling about on his hands and knees, trying to find a ball, but Achilles captured his attention. "Ha-ha!" he laughed, pointing at Achilles. "He looks like a tuna fish out of wa—!" He plunged abruptly to the floor. Eudoras had been fiddling around with a ball while blindfolded, and had tossed it randomly. Unfortunately, he was uncommonly lucky this time, and had hit Tecton right in the throat.

"Weoo! Weoo!" screamed the ambulance chariot, driving right onto the court (over Achilles), and halting beside Tecton. Some priests leapt out of the ambulance saying, "Hup! Hup! Iou, Iou, Iou!" Hoisting Tecton, they hurled him into the ambulance and drove away, trampling Achilles yet again.

"What was that?" questioned Aeneas. "I can't see." The people who had the luck to find a ball flung them aimlessly, sometimes hitting, sometimes not. Hector, I'm sure you've guessed, had the most success (due to the fact that he is the author's favorite character, and therefore favored). He put three Greeks out.

Finally, Helen called, "Regular dodgeball!" All and sundry eagerly removed their blindfolds and glanced about. They noticed at once that most of the balls just happened to be on the Trojan side.

"Paaarris!" cried Hector. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?"

Paris drew himself up from his cowering position and regarded his brother innocently. "What, Brother Hector?" he said sweetly. "Me?" Then, his incriminating grin gave him away.

Hector nodded. "That's what I thought," he said. "All right, Trojans. Ready." The Trojans each grabbed a ball and drew back.

"Loose!" cried Hector. The first volley flew to the Greeks, downing a few.

"Second line, loose!" he ordered. More hits this time.

Agamemnon was furious. "My army has never lost a battle!" he boasted angrily.

Odysseus peeled himself up from the floor. "You don't have an army."

Agamemnon glanced left and right and realized that his only remaining troop was correct. He was alone. "Then try to take me on!" he roared. "I'll kill the lot of you!" But before the Greek king could say more, he felt a sprinkle of sawdust on his head. He looked up, just in time to see Paris, ever ingenuous, who had just sawed a hole in the ceiling, dropping a blue paint ball onto him. It smacked him flat on the nose, and he was out.

"AARGGHHHH!" Agamemnon bellowed. "This is exactly why I got an F in P.E. when I was a kid! I hate sports! I want my mommy!" He began to suck his thumb. The Trojans were not amused. But they had won (mostly because obviously no one thought cheating was wrong back then. Really, Paris should have been disqualified!).

Utterly defeated, the remaining Greek forces transported their blubbering king and his wounded warriors back to Mycenae. And they never attacked Troy again, as long as they lived.


"And that, my son, is how Troy was saved," said Hector, recounting the tale of the heroic game of dodgeball.

"I don't believe you," said Astyanax. "You're odd."

"Fine," said Hector, "then don't, but it's true."

"Uncle Paris," said the boy, "is that story true?"

"Yup," replied Paris, cocking an eye at him. "I was the hero that glorious day."

Hector looked imploringly at the sky. "Paris, you were the cheater that glorious day…."

"So where does the Trojan horse come in, then?" asked the boy skeptically.

Hector thought for a moment. "Search me."

Finis