working late, putting the final touches on the temple to Zeus, with its gold roof and marble floors. He could smell all kinds of tasty food being burned on the ceremonial fires.
“They don’t bring tasty food to me,” Salmoneus muttered to himself. “They’re so afraid of the gods, but they’re not afraid of their own king? They wouldn’t treat me this way if I were a god….”
Salmoneus suddenly got an evil idea. He remembered the games he and his brothers used to play back in Thessaly when they were kids. They would dress up and pretend to be heroes and gods. Salmoneus was always the best actor.
He called in his most trusted advisor and said, “Trusted advisor, we have work to do. We need props and costumes.”
His advisor frowned. “Are we putting on a play, Your Majesty?”
Salmoneus grinned. “Sort of…”
A few days later, Salmoneus was ready. He donned his costume, got in his newly decorated chariot, and rode into the streets of his capital.
“Behold!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “I am Zeus!”
A farmer was so startled, he dropped a basket of olives. A lady fell off her donkey. Many other citizens screamed and ran away, because they were afraid of getting trampled by the king’s horses.
Salmoneus looked pretty impressive. He wore white robes lined with gold. A golden wreath glinted in his hair. Since the eagle was Zeus’s sacred bird, Salmoneus had painted eagles on the sides of his chariot. Mounted behind him, concealed under a tarp, were two brass kettledrums. When he raised his hand, his advisor (who was hiding under the tarp and not feeling very comfortable) would pound on the drums and make a sound like muffled thunder.
Salmoneus rode through the streets, screaming, “I am Zeus! Bring me tasty food!” Finally he stopped at the steps of the new temple to Zeus and turned the chariot toward the assembled crowd. “You will worship me!” he commanded. “For I am a god.”
One of his braver subjects called out, “You look like Salmoneus.”
“Yes!” Salmoneus agreed. “But I am also Zeus! I have decided to inhabit the body of your king. You will worship him as you worship me. This temple will be my palace. You will bring me all your offerings. But don’t burn them anymore. That’s a waste. I’ll just eat them.”
A few of his more timid subjects started to obey, placing food baskets on the ground near the chariot.
One man called out, “Why do you have chickens painted on your chariot?”
“They’re eagles!” Salmoneus yelled.
“They look like chickens,” the man insisted.
“Silence, mortal!” Salmoneus kicked his advisor under the blanket. The advisor started pounding his kettledrums.
“See?” Salmoneus said. “I can summon thunder!”
A lady in the back said, “Who’s under the blanket behind you?”
“No one!” Salmoneus yelled, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck. This wasn’t going as well as he’d hoped, so he decided to use his props.
He pulled a torch from his bucket o’ flaming torches ($99.99 at Walmart) and tossed one toward the lady in the crowd.
The people cried and shuffled away from the torch, but it landed harmlessly on the pavement.
“There!” Salmoneus roared. “I have cast a lightning bolt at you! Do not test me, or I shall strike you down!”
“That’s a torch!” somebody yelled.
“You asked for it, mortal!” Salmoneus started lobbing torches into the crowd and kicking his advisor under the tarp to bang on his drums; but soon the novelty wore off, and the crowd got angry.
“Boo!” someone yelled.
“Imposter!” yelled another. “False ZEUS!”
“Real ZEUS!” Salmoneus yelled back. “I am ZEUS!”
“YOU’RE NOT ZEUS!” yelled the crowd.
So many people were yelling the name Zeus that the big guy himself up on Mount Olympus took notice. He looked down and saw a mortal king in a bad costume, riding around on a chariot painted with chickens, lobbing torches and calling them lightning bolts.
The god of the sky wasn’t sure whether to laugh or rage.
He decided on raging.
Storm clouds gathered over the new city of Salmonea. Real thunder shook the buildings. The sky god’s voice boomed from on high: I AM ZEUS.
A jagged bolt of lightning split the sky, blasting Salmoneus and his poor advisor into grease spots. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left but a burning chariot wheel and a half-melted kettledrum.
The mortals of Salmonea cheered. They would’ve thrown a party in Zeus’s honor for getting rid of their idiot king, but Zeus wasn’t finished.
His voice bellowed from the sky: SOME OF YOU BROUGHT HIM OFFERINGS. SOME OF YOU ACTUALLY BELIEVED