Zeus was not having a good day and he made sure everyone knew it. He had snuck to the garage to get his clubs and found, instead, a note penned in Hera’s hand.
“I have your golf clubs locked away. They’ll ne’er again see the light of day – ‘til you finish the things you promised. The car still needs washing, and so does the dog. The toilet still has a nasty clog. The weeds are taking over the lawn. The checking account is overdrawn. Oh, and I have the TV remote as well!”
He tossed lightning bolts about, setting the lawn afire, burning the weeds. He conjured up a fierce storm, sending mortals to seek shelter, rinsing the car and dog.
“Damn her,” he muttered under his breath. He worked himself into a proper tizzy and screamed, to no one in particular. “The checking account will have to wait! It’s Sunday morning.”
He checked the note again, then moped off to find a plunger.