Zeus vs. Xenu

When Artemis knocked on her father’s door, Zeus answered by opening the door a crack and squinting at her from beneath tousled hair. She rolled her eyes at him. “Emergency meeting in the Great Hall. Hurry. Hera’s in a temper.” Artemis did not care which of Zeus’s lovers was on the other side of that door, but she did hope her father would not be long in getting to the meeting. She strode quickly to the Great Hall and sat in her chair with the ten other assembled Olympians.

Apollo, her brother, checked his watch. “Can he take up any more of my time? I’m going to be late for an appearance at Delphi.” The women scoffed at him, all except Aphrodite, who was eyeing him with interest; Ares, offended by her attention to Apollo, squeezed her thigh under the table. She giggled, and Dionysus kicked her from across the table, sick of their antics.

They waited a few moments longer. Hephaestus looked up the table at Hera. “Really, Mother, this is getting ridiculous!”

“Hush,” Hera growled at him, “we actually need him to do something productive.”

Finally, as the mounting unrest reached an almost intolerable level, Zeus sauntered in and slouched into his chair at the head of the table. “Did I miss anything?”

Nobody wanted to tell him, though it was imperative that he know. Hera, opposite him at the other end of the table, looked to her left at Aphrodite, who immediately looked to Hermes, who gestured to Athena, who pointed to Apollo. Caught off guard, Apollo started, then cleared his throat.

“Dad, we’re under attack.”

Zeus threw back his mighty head and laughed from deep in his chest. “You woke me up for that? Ridiculous! You lot, go back to your doings; no other being possesses the might to attack Olympus.”

Apollo appeared lost for words. Artemis, bored with the meeting and wanting action, took over. “This isn’t a god we’re familiar with, Dad. In fact we’re not even sure if he’s a god at all. He calls himself Xenu.”

“What’s he doing that we should be worried about?” Zeus yawned.

“Harvesting souls,” said Hades, striding in and banging his fist on the table, which shook with the impact. “Zeus, you twit, there’s going to be an uprising if you don’t reclaim those souls. They’re mine, promised to me! When we divided the realm and you stuck me with the Underworld, I didn’t complain too much, was always content with keeping souls in their place. I’m being robbed blind by this Xenu punk!” He banged his fist on the table again, causing a crack which Zeus repaired with a weary wave of his hand.

“Alright, alright. Let’s invite this Xenu character over for dinner tomorrow night. I’ll get the measure of him, convince him to do what we want.” Athena and Artemis got up and left in disgust. Dionysus sipped his wine; the other males at the table fidgeted uncomfortably. No one wanted this stranger in their midst, but they had all knew that Homer was right when he described Zeus, in his Iliad, as the wisest of the Olympians.

The next night, all was in readiness. Hermes had been sent to Xenu that day with the invitation, but had returned deeply shaken; he had delivered the message to a host of enslaved souls. The other Olympians were a little nervous about possibly meeting this host; what if Xenu brought them along?

And of course, the foreign entity did. Hera and Aphrodite wrinkled their noses as he glided into the Great Hall, surrounded by pearly souls with blank faces, staring eerily at nothing in particular. The Olympians stood beside their chairs; Hades had been invited to make an even number of places at the table. Xenu stood next to the one vacant chair. The Olympians bowed their heads to him, allowed him to sit, then followed suit. In an attempt to alleviate the tense atmosphere, Zeus signaled to Ganymede to bring the wine. Ganymede complied, serving Zeus first and working around the table so Xenu would be served last. When he finally made his way to the alien lord, Xenu snatched the boy, summoned his host of souls, and flew off into the twilight.

The Olympians sat in shocked silence and Xenu’s violation of their sacred principles of xenia – all but Zeus, who stood, his eyes glittering maliciously in the direction Xenu had vanished. “Okay,” he said, “now it’s personal.” Turning into a fierce-looking eagle, he flew off in pursuit of his cup-bearing eye candy.

Zeus flew and flew, beyond the Pillars of Heracles to a remote volcanic island, where he landed, listening closely for the cries of Ganymede. Maintaining his disguise, Zeus flew closer to the volcano and finally detected Ganymede’s voice. Thunder rumbled from within the mountain’s crater; wondering what caused it, Zeus flew to the top and looked in. Furiously churning lava, hot enough to melt even his lightning bolts, roiled within the mountain. Zeus recoiled from the heat and flew lower, nearer to the source of Ganymede’s cries. He had to engage Xenu in a battle of sheer brute force because, again according to his favorite oiodos, Homer, in his favorite story, the Iliad, he was the strongest of all gods. Surely he would beat down Xenu, no sweat. But of course, since Zeus was the strongest, Xenu would never agree to combat him. He had to be swift and initiate proceedings.

Ganymede’s pleas for help sounded closer and closer. Zeus flew until he traced the voice to a cave. He perched at the entrance and peered in. There was his Ganymede, tied up and watched over by the evil figure from Scientology and his host of enslaved souls. The volcano rumbled above him, and he decided this was not the time for planning, but the time for action.

Retaining his eagle form, Zeus swooped suddenly into the cave as the mountain threatened to explode. Claws extended, he blinded Xenu and latched onto Ganymede, his prized cup bearer. Flying hastily, he reached a safe distance from the volcano, landed, and hurled a lightning bolt at the mountain’s base. It exploded; the souls his brother Hades had demanded went to their rightful place in the Underworld. Xenu was imprisoned beneath the mountain, never to bother the Olympians again.