“Uh…hey, Mom, long time no see,” she says, tossing the pomegranate into a bush.

“Oh, I know, I couldn’t believe Hades raped you, what a terrible man,” she says, pausing to throw me a dirty look and take a breath.

Before she can come back in, Persephone interrupts: “Actually, I married him, Mom, thanks for asking.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Forced marriage, rape…it all amounts to the same thing.”

Loser. LosercreepretardgaywadLOSER.

“I chose to,” she said slowly and loudly, like to a dumb mortal.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter, dearie,” she said, tossing her disgustingly shiny hair (those mortals should manufacture it for car headlights, I’m serious!). “What matters is you’re coming home.”

“Why?” I ask incredulously as Zeus rounds the corner, looking miffed he was left behind.