Death can be a real pain. After swirling around in the Styx for who knows how long, I finally hauled myself out. I wiped the soul juice off of me and stormed back to my throne.
"You know what? Fine. I don't need that tramp. She'll come crawling back when he breaks her heart again. 'Oh Hades, please let me come back. Poor little Meggie got crushed all over again.' One way or another, she'll be back.
There was plenty to occupy my time while I waited. I worked on some new plans to dominate Olympus, kicked Pain and Panic around, told all the souls I would send back whichever one spoke Pig Latin the longest, watched the show, and generally ruled the Underworld. I checked the Styx every week or so to see if Hercules sat on Meg or something.
After I checked one day and she still wasn't there, I threw a rock into the river and looked around for someone to harass. Pain and Panic were off hiding somewhere. They sensed my ill temper after I set them on fire a few times. I looked around at my drab surroundings and sulked.
"This place is like death warmed over," I said. "Where's the pizzazz? Where's the flair? Something's missing. Something… purple." I dug around in some chests until I found some colorful drapes. I threw them up on a wall and examined them.
"No, no, that's not it. What does everyone else have that I don't? Not charm or good looks…" I stood thinking.
"I need a woman. They're good with this stuff. Hold it… Hephaestus has Aphrodite- however that happened, Zeus has Hera… and half of Greece, but all I had was Meg! I could have done worse, but she was no goddess of beauty. What I need is a bride, a queen for my lovely underground dump. Pain! Panic! Get ready. We're going hunting."