...And There We Live As Merry As The Day Is Long...

Apollo was most pleased. All morning long, new fire sprites, freshly delivered from the Delphic Oracle (now hidden from the eyes of men) met their divine deflowering by he, lighting up the sky with fire normally reserved for revelation. Now he sat, wreathed in golden flame, peering down at an occasion most to his liking.

A great assembly of mortals milled and laughed outside a modest home within a great white city. Every face wore the deep wrinkles of wide grins, and every voice rang with melodic beauty. Coals were lit, delivering the savory scent of fire cooked delights up to the very feet of Apollo himself. It appeared that Dionysus levied a strong blessing on this gathering as well, as many cups found welcome homes in highly raised hands. Some minstrels struck up music, moving the great audience deeper into the throws of their merryment.

At the fires stood that particular man Apollo had punished only a week prior. He felt this man's behavior a might bit peculiar, joyously hoisting his fellow revelers skyward with alarming regularity. Clearly this man took pride in manning the fires, basking in the clouds of smoke that issued forth from the grills. His hands seem to move through the flames without injury, as if the blaze itself took ally with his effort. His dignity swelled each time he passed off a finished meal, eagerly awaiting the blissful expression that predictably followed every first bite. Apollo chuckled at the simplicity of this being, though he did notice some absence stayed the full bloom of his rapture. Nevertheless, Apollo marveled at the relentless energy of his mirth.

The afternoon wore on, though Apollo's interest did not stray. He decided he would light the occasion until he heard the wild hoof beats of Artemis' steed. Strange rituals took place, where participants pressed themselves (with the aid of others) over large metal cans fitted with pumps, while a great mass counted how long the said participant could hold a hose in their mouth. Apollo stood stunned with how many individuals, male and female, did this. The mob delighted at the juvenile fervor this created, while some seemed flat incapable of standing afterward. He wondered why.

The hoofbeats sounded in the distance...As the crowd cleared, Apollo noted the words "Cinco De Mayo" etched on the glorious ground.

"Artemis must put this occasion to rest," he thought. "Were I to command the night, I would see that it never end..."

He noticed his fire sprites getting restless...