Trojan Fish

*NOTE: The following is an excerpt of a lost text by Homer describing the events that took place between The Iliad and The Odyssey. Recently unearthed from Grecian ruins, it should not be reported outside of academia, as review of authenticity remains ongoing.*

Sing to me, O Muse

Of the God of twists and turns

The God of all fools

Whose pranks we spurn

All know of the Trojan War’s genesis. Eris, the insidious Goddess of Discord, planted the seeds of trouble into the world by dropping an apple addressed to the fairest into a lake where three deities were bathing. Paris, young prince of Troy, was made to break the ensuing quarrel by choosing the most deserving goddess, and henceforth crowned Aphrodite as the worthy recipient.

In return, the Great Goddess of Love gave him the affection of Helen, Queen of Sparta. Her husband, Menelaus, unleashed the Achaeans’ rage in retaliation and waged a terrible war against the Trojans. Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, protected the Greeks. Ares, God of War, protected the Spartans. And so, for ten years of destruction, battles were fought. Blood was spilled. Men were killed.

The Great War brought fame to the hallowed halls of Troy. Few know, however, of the God who brought the fighting to an end. It was not Ares, who thrived in bloodshed. It was not Athena, who despised the Trojans. The honour fell upon Ted, God of Pranks.

Of the original Titans, only Ted had been spared from imprisonment in Tartarus, if only because Zeus found the guy funny. Since then, he ruled as Awkward Uncle on Mount Olympus, despised by most gods for his questionable sense of humour. Hephaestus had grown weary of the whoopee cushions. Artemis found the dad jokes old-fashioned, especially the one about the tiny pianist. By all accounts, Ted was dated, even by B.C. standards.

For entertainment, most gods resorted to wreaking havoc on the mortal world. Such behaviour did not sit well with him. All accounts agree he preferred to see mortals laughing together in merriment, a pleasure ruined by the constant carnage and slaughter.

One day, the god resolved to take the matter into his own hands. Flying down from Olympus, he came to meet Odysseus, the valiant trickster who served as the Achaeans’ greatest asset during the war.

“Listen my man,” said the God of Pranks in all his glory. “Word on the town has it you’re a fan of fun tricks, aren’t ya?”

“It is my belief wit surpasses strength in every possible way,” asserted the warrior.

“Well then, how about we come up with a trick that will end this war once and for all? What d’ya think?”

“As a matter of fact, a thought dawned upon me,” proudly proclaimed Odysseus. “We shall build a giant horse made of wood and offer it as a gift to the citizens of Troy.”

“Nice stuff. Go on, my boy.”

“Unbeknownst to them, we’ll be hiding inside, ready to slaughter them the instant they fall asleep.”

The god responded with outrage, scandalized by the vile proposition.

“Absolutely not! Where’s the fun in that?”

“The hiding part, I imagine.”

“Listen my dude, we all love a good game of Hide & Seek once in a while, but it ain’t no fun when the whole thing ends in murder.”

“I suppose it isn’t.”

Ted, bathed in the light of his divine aura, grabbed the young fighter by the shoulders.

“I might know a better way to end this.”

***

On the morning of April 1^st, 1184 B.C., the Trojans woke up to a surprise like no other. In front of the city gates, a giant wooden horse was found, as imposing as Mount Olympus itself. With great toil and trouble, they dragged it into the city, and found out the Achaeans had disappeared. The equestrian gift weighed heavily on the men as they painstakingly pushed it. They rejoiced all day, convinced the war had come to an end, with the Trojans emerging victorious. Little did they know what fate the Achaeans had in store for them.

That night, something pulled them out of their peaceful sleep. It wasn’t blood. It wasn’t slaughter. It was a smell.

All gathered in the town square to witness the most absurd sight to ever befall a man. Right before their eyes, the wooden horse was spitting out fish. Rotten fish. Nauseating fish.

“That smell!” yelled one Trojan, on the verge of plucking his eyes out. “Make it stop! I can’t smell it any longer.”

“Why fish?” cried out a peasant woman, her knees to the ground as she cradled her son. “It had to be fish!”

From a nearby hill, the Achaeans watched in glee and laughed in breath-cutting merriment, bending on the ground. Their swords were clean, without a trace of bloodstain, but cheeks were covered in tears of joy at such a peculiar sight.

Ted hovered above the gated city, yelling loud and clear.

“Listen, you suckers!” he said. “Time to surrender, or that donkey will just keep spittin’ fish. There’s plenty more where that came from, let me tell you that! Plenty of fish in the ocean for y’all Trojan losers.”

It didn’t take long for the Trojans to capitulate. Priam ordered his son Paris to release Helen. No longer under the prince’s bewitching power, she gladly returned to Greece to escape the pervasive smell of fish that prevailed in Troy forever and ever after the scheme. It took the Trojans ten more years to clean up the town, with some shovelling out fish until their dying breath.

As peace came back to the land, the Awkward Uncle returned to his seat on Mount Olympus, where he was forever revered as the biggest prankster of them all. Let it be known that this tale took place, and that laughter shall forever be preferred over the brutality of war.

*NOTE: Evidence suggests the victory sparked a festival of Ted worship in Greece. Ever since, April 1^st has been observed as a day of peace, where wars stop for everyone to play practical jokes on each other. To further corroborate the events, archeologists are currently excavating the site of the historical Troy in search of fish fossils.*