Bacchus felt the vibrations of the music before he actually heard it. The raucous strains shook the heavens around him. Swathes of jewel-studded toile hung from every turret, every column, every balustrade of Vig’s not-so-humble abode. Scantily clad apsaras materialized around him as he walked up the sapphire path to the main entryway.
“Ladies,” he said and nodded at them. Their reply—only a tinkling of giggles. Tempted to give himself over to the charms of their coconut-scented skin, Bacchus managed to wade through the sea of beauties.
Servants appeared to attend to Bacchus: one to open the massive white marble doors, one to take his cloak, and one to offer him any number of divine concoctions. He chose a flute of vibrant lavender syrup. An apsara, who was nude save for the gold leaf covering her body, intertwined her arm with his and escorted him through the opulent receiving hall to the lush oasis out back.
Liquid-silver waves lapped at the shore of a ruby sand beach. Golden palm trees reached up into the endless blue velvet sky. Countless merrymakers frolicked in the surf and danced around almost every square inch of open space. Bacchus took a moment to adjust to the grandeur of it all. His human senses could barely handle the splendor surrounding him.
Parting the crowd of bodies, his lovely guide led him into a private tent, set apart from the raging party. Vignesha lay in all his glory on a brocade hammock, receiving a saffron oil rub down from the most beautiful of celestial nymphs.
Vig’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of approaching feet. “Bro, you made it up here. How awesome.”
“Thanks. I see you’re still living large.”
“You know it. Pull up a chair. I’ll order up some more drinks, get some more nymphs in here.”
“You’re too gracious, old friend, but I was hoping I could speak to you alone.”
Jumping up from the table, Vig didn’t bother to cover his bare body, but instead walked the shapely women to the tent opening. After kissing each of their hands, he said, “Don’t go too far now.” They disappeared in twittering laughter.
“It’s just not the same without you here.” Vig put his arm around Bacchus’ shoulder, enormous phallus flopping from right to left. “Oops, just grazed you with my naked bits, didn’t I?”
Bacchus chuckled. “Think nothing of it.”
They settled into a pile of large of satin pillows.
“So, what’s up?” Vig asked.
After taking a long sip from his drink, Bacchus launched into the events that had transpired earlier.
“Antithesia is trying to help you? Dude, you are so screwed. Aw, righteous, that rhymed,” Vig said.
“I know. But I’m desperate. The fact that I’m even considering advice from that fork-tongued battle-axe should tell you that much,” Bacchus replied.
“I hear ya. Well, it’s like this. Everybody on Earth’s got their own Pandora’s box, Sorrows box, whatever you call it, man, they are forbidden to leave the palace.”
“What does the box do?”
“Captures Sorrows. But if you really want to know the whole scoop on the boxes, you have to talk to Pandora. She’s got loads of box knowledge.”
“Do you think she’ll make an exception and give me Arianna’s?”
“Nah, bro. She can’t, and don’t put her in that position because she’d get herself in trouble trying to help. She’s sweet like that.”
“So I’m screwed.”
“Well, there’s one god who might be able to help you cuz he don’t give a flip what trouble he gets in.”
“Oh no, you’re not talking about…”
“Loki. Yeah, he’d probably steal it for you, but you gotta keep your eyes peeled while you’re there. Who knows what other crap he’ll try to stir up.”
“I don’t know that I can in my current condition.”
“Well, you dudes get caught, don’t leave Madame Pandora out to dry. You feeling me?”
“You have my word.”
“Cool. I’ll send Loki your way. The Mother and The Father be with you, bro.”