Cupid

I found Cupid sauntering down the street with his bow and arrows tucked under his chubby arm. He seemed to be enjoying his constitutional. I cleared my throat. "Ahem!"

"How is it that you are walking about, I thought you could fly," I said.

"That's when I have gas," he replied, "I have to submit flight plans in triplicate twenty-four hours in advance to the nearest airport where they schedule an eye test and ask me how Venus got to be my mother."

"You have gas?" I asked in surprise.

"Everyone has gas except the moon which must be on a course of antacids because it has no gas," Cupid reasoned. 

"Have you been to  the moon?" I asked wonderingly.

"No Neil Armstrong beat me to it," he said regretfully.

"Why didn't you take pot shots at him with your arrows?"

"He is thick skinned. He wears a spacesuit, my arrows can't go through that," he rued.

I gulped.

"But all my victims bay the moon thinking of their lovers," Cupid said.

"You mean like wolves?"

He sniggered. "Wolf in sheep's clothing. Actually, they like cross-dressing."

"Don't they go to fancy dress balls cross-dressed?" I asked.

"Whenever it takes their fancy," he replied.

"Have you got a licence for that," I questioned indicating his bow and arrows.

"I have one from  Mount Olympus. You need to fill in a form with a self-attested mug shot to get one," he replied importantly.

"Does your mother have one too?" I inquired.

"She had one, but did not renew it since she did not like shooting people in their behinds."

"What did she say?" I asked.

"Get Thee behind me Satan!"

"But ...but did not someone else say it," I questioned.

"Could be. Plagiarism has existed for a long time."

"Does she have any other quotable quotes?"

"Publish and be damned."

"What has she published?" I inquired.

"She has not published anything, she is looking for a publisher for her memoirs on erotic love, Swedish exercises and yoga.

"But why does she keep you naked?" I asked curiously.

"That's because there are no shopping malls on Mount Olympus at present. But that will change, there is a tender that the gods in the nude have floated to build one," he said.

"Will they have all the big labels?'

"Certainly, after all the gods cannot go dressed like ordinary morons," he said and paused. "I think mummy is calling."

"Can I meet her?"

"Of course you can, she likes being admired by mortals," he said, "And she gives me first aid when I shoot myself in the foot," Cupid stated.

Venus came into view with a haughty strut. "Who is this?" She inquired sharply.

"Just a mortal I was teaching to use a bow and arrow," he said.

"You shouldn't teach mortals anything. They think we are mythology. If this continues very soon we will be featured in comic books."

"But there are already comic books about the gods," I remarked.

"There, see," said Venus sternly, "Shoot him in the fleshy part of the leg at once."

"Now, now, " I said hastily, "There is no need for that. I have gas you know from reading too much of James Bond."

"Do I know him?" Asked Venus sharply.

"Of course you do Mama, it's the chap who likes his martinis stirred and not shaken. He once followed a Russian agent to Olympus," Cupid said.

"Yes, I remember the Russian agent had gas the Bond was prospecting for it," she said.

"But luckily you gave the Russian agent some antacid and that foxed Bond," Cupid said.

"Bond had gas too, but he took a course of Homeopathic medicines and that cured his squint," she replied.

"I wonder how the women liked a squinting secret agent," I interjected.

"That's to fool people. A girl thinks he is looking at her when actually he is admiring the salesgirl," Venus said.

She looked at Cupid and exclaimed. "You haven't got any socks on, you naughty boy."

"I told you that socks make my feet itch," replied Cupid, "artists are accustomed to painting me with nude feet, what would they think!"

"They would think that your son needs a fig leaf," I said.

"How dare you? I will turn your clothes into a fig leaf this instant."

"Wow! How did you do that?" I asked Venus  surprised at finding myself in a fig leaf and nothing else, "I can join a nudists colony now I suppose."

"You have dumpy legs," snickered Cupid, "And look what he has between his legs!"

"A fig leaf," I moaned, "And no nudist colony in sight."

"They wouldn't admit you unless you left the fig leaf at the gate," Venus said.

"I could always gatecrash," I said spiritedly.

"Not without a crash helmet you don't," she said.

"But I only take off my clothes when I'm bathing," I protested.

"You can't bathe in a nudist colony with your clothes on, you would probably get lynched," Venus said.

"Do you have a nudist colony on Mount Olympus?" I questioned.

"Don't be stupid. Gods don't need clothes. And, Adam and Eve looked for a tailor immediately after they were booted out from the Garden of Eden."

"But they could have headed straight to a nudist colony," I suggested.

"It hadn't been invented then. It must have been too cold without central heating at the time to discard clothes when the North Wind was blowing," Venus said.

"Shall I shoot him in his behind?" Cupid asked growing impatient.

"It's rude to interrupt when elders are talking," chided the goddess.

"Are you taking him to a nudist colony? he asked brightly.

"Will you stop being a pain in the behind!" I admonished Cupid.

"Where would you like the pain to be?" He asked interested.

"That's enough,  go sharpen your arrows," Venus instructed.

"Then can I shoot him in the behind?" asked Cupid.

"All right, I will paint a target on his bottom so you can't miss," she said.

"I don't want my behind for target practice," I protested, "Why can't we paint a target on that tree?"

"You should learn to preserve the environment," said Venus primly.

"But I want to preserve my behind," I gasped in desperation.

"Your bottom isn't green," Cupid piped up.

"Why don't you shoot at a streetlight?" I asked, "You will have a choice of red, green and orange."

"Goddesses don't break laws," said Venus.

"But you can shoot traffic lights, at the most Cupid would be let off with a reprimand by the police since he is a child. A traffic light makes a better target than my coveted behind," I pleaded.

Venus and Cupid both shook their heads in disagreement.

"Tell you what? Why don't you target the nudists?"

Venus thought for awhile. "Not a bad idea. All those bare behinds would make perfect targets for Cupid."

"Are we to let off this sod?" Cupid asked his mother rudely, "A bum in the hand is worth two in the nudist colony you know."

"You have your arithmetic right, so why are you grumbling?"

"I spotted him first."

"Don't be difficult or I will have to give you a laxative which will lay you up for a couple of days," Venus warned.

"Not that water torture again," Cupid said fearfully.

"It would serve him right for taking pot shots at behinds," I said enthusiastically.

Venus eyed me balefully. "Do you want to be turned into a toad?"

" I don't live in a well," I protested, "And I don't want to have a behind like them."

"If you had a behind like a toad, Cupid won't need glasses to see it," she said.

"Shall I shoot him now?" Cupid asked eagerly.

"I think a blunderbuss would be more effective than your arrows, and he might fall in love with me!"

"Yes, yes," I urged Cupid eagerly at the thought of falling in love with Venus, "My behind is ready when you are."

Cupid's bow twanged as he shot himself in the foot. "Ow! Ow!"

"Will you stop hopping around like an aimless goat ... where did I put my first aid box?" Venus asked frantically.

"Did you leave it behind on Olympus?" I asked trying to be helpful.

"Now I remember. I left it at homeopathic doctor's clinic where he was flirting with me and fell at my feet. I had to give him first aid and stitch his knees," she said.

"Oh!

"I gave him a stiff laxative too so that he remained confined to the toilet and had no time left to bother me," Venus said.

"You could have asked me to turn his bottom into a pincushion with my arrows and that would have been more effective," Cupid remarked still springing around. "Where's that dratted first aid box mama?"

"Don't worry I will tear the trousers of that man into strips and bandage your feet," Venus said.

"Does the fig leaf become my official uniform?" I asked getting in a word.

"If you want a gate pass to Olympus, you will have to shed that too," Venus replied.

"Do they have striptease in Olympus?" I asked.

"If you wish to be teased you will certainly be stripped," Venus said nonchalantly.

"We strip search all humans who wish to enter Olympus. How do we know you are not a terrorist?" asked Cupid.

"But I hate terrorism and pimples on the nose," I said heatedly.

"So you are a pimple nosed terrorist. Very suspicious," Venus said. "Do you have the fuse under your fig leaf?"

"Don't you dare, I will not surrender my fig leaf."

Venus zapped the fig leaf and it disintegrated immediately.

"I will complain to the gods at Mount Olympus, give me back my fig leaf," I barked.

"A fig for your complaint," Cupid piped up.

"Ugh!" gasped Venus and my fig leaf was back.

"Could I also have my clothes back? I have a meeting to attend. I can't do that in a fig leaf," I said mildly.

"Why not? The animals and other species don't wear clothes only the humans do. I find it demeaning," Venus said.

"I am not one of your gods who go around in the buff diddling humans," I protested.

"Are you going to attend to me?" asked Cupid exasperatedly, "I've lost gallons and gallons of blue blood."

"Don't worry I will tear up this man's trousers and bandage your foot," Venus said and proceeded to do just that.

I looked at my fig leaf hanging precariously and hoped fervently that the wind did not dislodge it as Venus tended to her son and took him away.

Thereafter, a morbid policeman with baleful eyes collared me for being improperly dressed and escorted me to the jug.