Ares was madder then when someone stole the Minotaur's Fruit of the Loom underwear on boxing day. He was so blinded by pure rage that he didn't even register the fact that he was halfway to Hermes' postal air service shack. The fire in his eyes was of a dangerous blue and his large fists' were clamped so tightly together that they had turned white, his lips only a thin line.

Ares' raised his left hand and rapped against the white-on-blue door with such a force that his hand broke through to the other side, forgetting the doorbell.

He cursed Cronos in ancient Greek and rubbed his sore hand.

Hermes bright blue eye peered through the fist made hole, fixing hard on Ares' fire ones. He then took a step back and called in his best 'I Love Lucy voice'- "Who eeess eett???"

Ares scowled and repied with his best 'Im gonna kill you' voice "The paperboy. Who do you think smartass?"

Hermes then opened the broken door. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept all night, which of course he hadn't. After his confrontion with Artemis and Ares he had to go and break the sad news to May. It had to be done. He spent the better part of the night holding the broken-hearted May Castallan and trying his best not to break down in tears himself.

But he was in Olympus again nevertheless, and even though the past day had felt like a dream, it was no apparation that the fuming war god stood in front of him.

Donned only in his robe, he opened the door wider, yawned, ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair and guestured vigorously for Ares to step inside.

Ares did, but not without the old bang- shoulder- against- other guys' technique. Hermes' living quarters were nice and simple. Actually, it looked much like a child's bedroom. The ceiling was covered with model airplanes from both World Wars 1 and 2, the walls were filled with diagrams of birds and other flying creatures. The whole room was white and blue, his caduceus and messenger bag were lying on his couch. Martha and George were chasing one another across the marble table in front of the couch. The place didn't look like it was used much, but for Hermes being the messenger god, he probably didn't have much time to himself.

"Well, sit down." Hermes moved his hand to the general direction of the couch.

Ares swaggered over to the couch and sat down, making a point that his flaming eyes never left the messengers god's. Ares put his feet on the table and in the process almost crusing the conjoined snakes. George stuck his forked tounge out and they slithered away.

"Ares. What did I, a poor meek god, do to get your divine presence in my shack? You realise that never once in two thousand years did you come to pay me a visit. Why have I been singled out on this fine day? Oh and you look so much better! Did you do something with your hair?"

Ares sneered. "Actually as a matter of fact, I decided that a longer look would flatter my features more." Hermes chuckled and Ares continued, "Now, don't pretend for a moment that you don't know why I'm here. You of all people should know."

"My dear egotistical one, if this is about the broadcast this morning I assure you I had nothing to do with it." Ares stood up and held up a finger and looked like he was about to interupt when Hermes continued, "My alibi. After my snakes... interupted you... no you listen to me Ares!... after my snakes...erm... walked in on your party.... I went to earths surface to confort my distraught lover." Ares opened his mouth. "Oh no you don't Ares. I want to explain this to you. Several years ago Hades secretly put a curse on a previous Oracle's host, trapping the spirit in her body. But as we gods did not know this, my dear May, the mother of my darling Luke, tried to release the Oracles spirit from the old hippies body. Instead she lost her mind. As a result of this, Luke grew up rejected, believing his mother was crazy. This is why Cronos grew strong. This is why he almost over threw Olympus. Think about it Ares, why would I play such a prank on you after my heart had broken so? Are you really that narrow minded to think that I would broadcast that stupid show for my own entertainment?"

"Hermes, you are the god of pranks, of practical jokes. This seems the thing you would do. If YOU didn't do it, then WHO did?" Ares pointer finger found its way to Hermes face again. During the story his eyes had almost estinguished to their hazel but now they were once again ablaze.

"Gee, I don't know. Who is always trying to make a fool of you by putting hidden cameras all over the place and airing it on an OLYMPUS televison program? Oh my gods who could it POSSIBLY be?" Hermes' voice dripped with sarcasm, for he was getting fed up with Ares and his big head.

"Hephestus." It was just one word but in that one word all the hate in the galaxy was crammed. Ares turned and stormed out of the shack. Hermes cursed all the way to the bedroom to get dressed for work. It was going to be a long day.