It was a normal day in Greece. The sun was shining, people where building stone replicas of men naked, and, of course, parties were all over the streets. Why partying you ask? Simple, it was the celebration of Dionysus, the god of wines and raves. People were also ready to go to the theater, of course, to see plays that people thought the gods were well not as good as the book. So, as the crowds began to fill the seats, two very wise and honorable people came into from the parados. Their togas of white glistened, while some would say sparkled, in the sunlight. They walked on their top of the line sandals that clacked so loud that it stunned the whole audience waiting for the competition. As all turned, their sights were set on the two great men walking in.

It was the great Plato and Aristotle, their hands placed on their hips and shoulders back. Plato held a book in his hand and read it, as Aristotle just confidently posed for the ladies. The ladies looked at him with raised eyebrows as one just shook her head slowly, her frown turning into pursed lips. Aristotle raised an eyebrow at her, but Plato just sighed.

" Aristotle, not everyone is going to like you." He said. " It is how life works. There will be enemies."

"Really, Plato?" He said. " Well maybe if you get your head out of that book, then you would be able to get some ladies."

Plato glared at him. " Unlike you Aristotle, I am, how you call it, dead."

"Well then get some underworld ladies."

"That's not how it works Aristotle."

"How come?"

"Well, first of all, Hades had asked me to be a guide for you since Socrates recommended me for helping a person achieve success in life, so I have to stay in this world to help you, and two, everyone in the underworld kind of cares about the fact that they are indeed dead and have freakouts every day."

Aristotle sighed. He felt guilt for this man, obviously, he could not get a girlfriend because of his nerdiness on philosophy. Of course, this did not get in way of his relationships, but he did respect that a great philosopher of their time took much effort into their work.

"That's a shame man."

"Not really. Trust me, the women look much livelier here."

"That could be because they are alive."

"True." Plato nodded at him. Aristotle walked up the stairs until he found an open seat. He politely sat onto the bench and scooted over so others could sit. Plato kindly did the same, although most people did not even know he was there. Looking around, a lot of people had cloth in their hands. Other were already sitting down with at least a bottle of wine. Then, there were some, mostly ladies, that had a devious smile on their face, journals in hand and quills ready to write. Plato smiled at these ladies, seeing spirits that surely Ares with his buddies sent to them for purposes unknown.

"I think we're expecting a tragedy." Plato said.

"Ugh, those things?" Aristotle groaned. " They're for women."

"Not precisely, it could be like an epic in some ways."

"Really, Plato, you like tragedies?"

"They're great! It shows the human character in good form, showing how the spirit of someone can battle between reason."

"I don't reckon that."

"It usually involves death."

"Everything does Plato, it's not a new thing."

"Okay yes, but you can see the emotion on people's faces."

"Plato you watch lady's plays stop trying to defend your masculinaty."

"Then why are you here?"

Aristotle sulked his shoulders.

"There's a comedy after this."

"A comedy? Those were so bad in my time."

"Well they aren't now."

"Unlike tragedies."

"I swear those are like writing sins."

"So if I wrote those types of plays, then I write sins, not tragedies?"

"Exactly."

It was unfortunate that the both of them did not know that someday, this would've been a pun that made some people cringe, but nevermind that. The sacrifice was about to begin for Dionysus, in which the lamb was on the side, ready to be slaughtered. Plato gazed at it, his lips pursed.

"Aristotle?"

"Yes, Plato?"

"What if I stole that lamb?"

Aristotle bit his lip and exhaled rather loudly.

"Plato."

"I'm just wondering."
" That is a terrible idea."

"I'm gonna name it Alex."

"Alex the lamb?"

"Yes."

"Why do you even want a lamb."

"So I can talk to it instead of you." Plato snapped his fingers in a Z-like shape.

"Dionysus would probably be mad at you."

"As if Dionysus needs a lamb soul."

Aristotle shrugged his shoulders. " I don't know, maybe he gets bored one day and decides to dress it up as Hera and rides around on it."

"Why the hell would he do that."

"For the vine!"

"Why in the underworld would he do that for a grape-vine?"

" Maybe grape vines get amused by it and produce more than usual."

Plato opened his mouth, but then closed it, stroking his majestic beard slowly. Then, he turned toward Aristotle with a straight face.

"Sadly, Aristotle, he will not be able to do it for the vine."

Aristotle put his hand over his face. "This bitch." He thought.

"Plato, there would be no wine."

"That's not a problem. You could always sacrifice another lamb."

"But what if this lamb's special?"

"How could Alex be special?"

"Stop calling it Alex."

"No."

At that, Aristotle looked at the lamb closely. It did seem rather rambunctious, kicking and not being able to stay quiet on its leash. The lamb was a rebellious one, but as Plato saw it, he saw the spirit of the lamb be a golden one. It was like the reincarnation of a warrior, with enough timé to spread around. However the people trying to tame it had no luck, and sighed. The one that looked like the main tamer dismissed the other with a simple gesture of a hand. As the other ran off, the tamer walked into the orchestra.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, but this lamb seems not fit for the sacrifice. If anyone dares to buy it, it is for free."

Plato's smile was a wide as it could be, and his eyes gleamed. He was jumping up and down. Aristotle glanced at him, then resumed to look back at his hands on his face. Still, Plato did not give up.

"Please?" He said.

"Plato, I could not afford it-"

"It's free." He moved his shoulders back and forth, as well as having him sound like he is singing just a little.

"No."

"So you get a great philosopher, but I can't get a lamb?" He looked at Aristotle with a pouted lip.

"You got off easy."

At that, Aristotle sighed. He was indeed right about one thing, being let off the hook. Then again, he was happy when he came into his house one night. He kind of had the same face he is having with this lamb surprisingly. Maybe it was destiny, but something made him feel that this lamb, or Alex supposedly, would be great one day. At that, he stood up, puts his head up, and shouts.

"Give me that Goat!"

Of course, it wasn't needed to have the audience look at him oddly, since Plato felt embarrassed already, but it was a simple mistake. Now, he is getting a lamb. A lamb he will call Alexander. "No." He thought. "It needs to be more dramatic. This will be a fine lamb, some lamb who could be strong and powerful and-" Plato smiled at the thought he had, then whispered it into Aristotle's ear. He looked at Plato with a thumbs up and a grin, before walking down the steps to retrieve the goat. Once he felt the rope handle in his hands, he announced before the crowd.

"Listen well, The people of Greece!" He proclaimed. "This lamb has been chosen by the outstanding Plato as well as myself. We shall train him the best we could so one day, he will live up to his name. He will be Alexander the Great!"