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It was a typical day on Olympus, and Zeus, the King of the Gods, was lounging on his massive golden throne, lazily twirling a thunderbolt between his fingers. Despite being the ruler of everything divine, he was feeling more than a little restless.
“By the Fates,” Zeus grumbled to himself, “why does being all-powerful have to be so boring?”
Just then, Apollo strolled into the throne room, his lyre slung casually over his shoulder, humming a tune to himself.
“Ah, Father,” Apollo greeted, “enjoying the peaceful serenity of Olympus, I see?”
Zeus rolled his eyes. “Peaceful serenity? More like eternal boredom. Don’t you gods ever get tired of playing the same songs and reciting the same poems? Do something entertaining, would you?”
Apollo grinned, clearly amused by his father’s irritation. “You know, Father, if you’re so bored, perhaps you should try a hobby. I hear knitting’s quite popular down in the mortal realm.”
Zeus stared at him, thunderbolt frozen mid-twirl. “Knitting? Me? The ruler of Olympus? What would the mortals think if their almighty god was knitting socks?”
Apollo chuckled. “You could knit a thunderstorm or something. It might even catch on.”
Zeus opened his mouth to retort, but was interrupted by the arrival of Hera, who swept into the throne room looking as regal as ever. She eyed Zeus suspiciously, her arms crossed.
“Zeus,” Hera said, her voice full of that familiar suspicion, “I’ve just heard from a rather frantic group of nymphs that you’ve been toying with your thunderbolts again. Should I be concerned?”
Zeus raised his hands defensively. “What? I haven’t done anything! I was just complaining about how dreadfully boring everything is today.”
Hera’s eyes narrowed. “That’s exactly what worries me.”
Before Zeus could defend himself further, Hermes zoomed into the room, panting slightly from the speed of his arrival.
“Father! Hera! You’ll want to hear this,” Hermes said, waving a scroll in his hand. “There’s a crisis in the mortal realm—”
Zeus sat up straight, his boredom vanishing in an instant. “A crisis, you say? Finally, something interesting. What is it? A war? A rebellion? Monsters attacking?”
Hermes unrolled the scroll and quickly scanned the contents. “Not quite… It seems that a mortal king has made a bold claim.”
Zeus raised an eyebrow. “A bold claim? What could possibly be so bold that it requires the attention of the king of the gods?”
Hermes cleared his throat dramatically. “He’s claiming that he—the mortal king Lycos—has better hair than you.”
Zeus froze. “Better hair?!” His voice echoed through the grand hall.
Apollo snickered, clearly enjoying the turn of events. “You have to admit, Father, your hair’s been a little, well, static lately. Maybe the mortals are noticing.”
Zeus glared at Apollo, lightning flickering dangerously around his fingers. “Are you suggesting that some mortal king has better hair than me? The god of thunder?”
Hera sighed, massaging her temples. “Oh, for the love of Olympus, Zeus, don’t let your vanity get the best of you. It’s just some mortal king trying to get attention.”
But Zeus wasn’t listening. He was already pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath. “Better hair? I’ll show him better hair. I’ll summon a storm so fierce, his precious hair will be nothing but a frizzy mess! No mortal outdoes me in the looks department.”
Apollo, still grinning, plucked at his lyre. “Father, you’re not seriously going to wage war on this king over hair, are you?”
Zeus stopped in his tracks, suddenly struck by inspiration. “No, not war. That’s too easy.” He turned to Hermes. “Go down to the mortal realm, and find me this King Lycos. Challenge him to a hair contest—on my behalf. Let’s see if he can handle a divine salon.”
Hermes blinked. “A hair contest? Uh, how exactly do I—”
“Just do it!” Zeus thundered. “Tell him if he dares challenge me, the loser has to shave his head bald. Let’s see how bold he feels then!”
Hera groaned. “You’ve truly outdone yourself, Zeus. This might be the most absurd thing you’ve done in a century.”
Zeus crossed his arms, looking rather pleased with himself. “Absurd? Maybe. But I’m the king of the gods! If I want to defend my glorious mane, I will!”
Hermes zipped off to deliver the challenge, leaving Hera and Apollo staring at Zeus in disbelief.
Apollo strummed his lyre absentmindedly. “You know, if you lose, Hera might finally get her wish of you shaving that ‘glorious mane.’”
Zeus glared at him. “I won’t lose.”
A few hours later, Hermes returned, looking a little too amused for Zeus’s liking.
“Well?” Zeus demanded. “What did the mortal say?”
Hermes grinned. “He accepted your challenge. And I have to say, Father, this guy’s hair is… impressive.”
Zeus’s eyes narrowed. “Impressive how?”
Hermes leaned in, his grin widening. “He’s got curls that would put a young Apollo to shame.”
Apollo chuckled. “Sounds like competition, Father. You might want to prepare.”
Zeus clenched his fists. “Prepare? I don’t need to prepare. I’m Zeus, the thunder god. My hair is divine!”
Hermes shrugged. “Well, you’ve got two days until the contest. Better get your curls in order.”
Two days later, all of Olympus gathered to witness the “Divine Hair Showdown.” Zeus sat on his throne, his hair freshly groomed and shining like polished gold. On the other side of the throne room, the mortal king Lycos stood proudly, his luscious locks flowing in perfect waves down to his shoulders.
The gods watched in anticipation, with Apollo taking bets on the outcome.
Zeus glared at Lycos, who was unfazed by the god’s intimidating presence. “So, mortal,” Zeus said, “you think you can beat the god of thunder in a contest of looks?”
Lycos smiled serenely. “It’s not about thinking, Lord Zeus. It’s about knowing.”
Zeus’s jaw dropped. The audacity!
Hermes stepped forward, acting as the judge. “Alright, everyone, let the contest begin!”
One by one, the gods and nymphs evaluated each contestant’s hair. Zeus’s thunderous locks, with their radiant golden sheen, seemed unbeatable. But Lycos’s flowing curls were mesmerizing, catching the light in a way that even made Aphrodite swoon.
After much deliberation, Hermes finally delivered the verdict.
“It’s a tie,” Hermes declared.
“A tie?!” Zeus shouted, his voice shaking the heavens.
Hera burst out laughing. “Oh, Zeus, this is what you get for challenging a mortal to such a ridiculous contest!”
Lycos smiled humbly. “It seems even the gods have competition.”
Zeus grumbled, defeated not by skill but by pride. “Fine. But next time, it’ll be a thunderbolt contest. Let’s see how well your curls hold up against that!”
And so, Zeus sulked back to his throne, swearing to never let a mortal outshine him in hair—or anything else—ever again.
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