(35) Intervention, ii

Karen had just met the Harvest Goddess. That was one thing to cross off her bucketlist.

"Hello, Karen." The Harvest Goddess was... well, hot. Her blemishless skin radiated light, her eyes were large pools of colour and emotion, her emerald hair sat in tight buns on her head and then trailed around her in a long, impractical braid. Her chest - which put all the mortal women of Mineral Town, Karen included, to shame - was barely concealed in a way that would make Sasha tut disapprovingly. Yes, Karen was certain her mother would have no qualms tutting disapprovingly at the Goddess.

In short, Karen would totally do her. But there was a time and a place.

"How do you know my name?"

"Well, I am -"

"The Goddess, right. Stupid question."

She smiled, and rather divinely at that. "I had been hoping I'd one day get a visit from you. You're rather... well-known, in my circle." Karen was used to being talked about, but not necessarily in circles of immortal divine beings. "The God of Wine, in particular, seems to have his eye on you. You've rather impressed him."

"Oh, sweet! Can I like, work for him? How does one apply for that?"

The Goddess' smile tightened, and the kindness trickled out of her gaze. "Yes, Karen, you're very well-known - and I think it's time you and I had a little... chat."

Oh no. Karen had sat through enough lectures to know where this was going.

In a flash of light, another Goddess appeared, identical to the first. Then another flash of light, and a third Goddess entered onto the scene. More light, more Goddesses, and soon, Karen was surrounded by a legion of Harvest Goddesses, arms at their sides and a smile that she recognized on Gauguin right before he was about to pounce on a mouse.

They all spoke at once, their voices magnified by the numerous mouthes emitting them. "You, Karen, have been a very, very, naughty girl!"

"N-No!" she spun around wildly, empty burlap sack falling to her feet. On all sides, she could see only Goddesses, the entire hot spring area closed off.

"Which of my teachings is always preached at the Church on Sundays?" the middle - and original - Goddess asked.

Hell if I know, Karen thought, but dared not say. "Um... Thou shalt not throw thy garbage in yon river... henceforth?"

"Moderation!" shrieked all the Goddesses at once. "Moderation, my little extremist," repeated the original. "And what would you call your little drinking habit? Do you think I, the Harvest Goddess, would consider that 'moderate'?"

"Yes?" Karen asked meekly, hopefully; "If you're the cool kinda Goddess?"

Her peach-pink lips scowled, "I am totally the cool Goddess. Who's been saying otherwise? Was it the Harvest Witch? I swear, if she -" She quickly regained her composure. "But that - But that is neither here nor there! Karen... My dear, sweet child... I think it's time for a little... intervention."

In a unanimous move, the Goddesses all took a step forward, closing the distance between themselves and the poor, frightened, hungover Karen.

"N-No... Please...!"

There was a round of giggling, coming from all sides.

"I - I won't... No!"

"You need this, Karen, sweetest. It's for your own good."

"NOT THE SPANKIEEEEEEEEEES!"