Deer Afroditie,
Thenk u for the wedin preznt it was very eunuch-

"That's not how you spell 'unique', Iolaus," Iphicles pointed out from behind
his new husband's shoulder. "In fact, that's not how you spell anything. Here. Let me." He took the quill and a new piece of parchment.

Dear Aphrodite, Thank you so much for the wedding present. It's very-

Iphicles paused, frowning.

"See?" Iolaus crowed. "It ain't easy to describe." He glanced at the Goddess' gift, standing proudly in the front yard of their small cottage. If anything of that nature could be said to do anything proudly.

Iphicles thought for a moment. "Okay, let's look at it and see what comes to mind."

They stared in silence for a moment, taking in the present. As presents went, it was certainly unique. Iolaus had been right in spirit if not in spelling. It was a sundial. A large one. But to say only that would be an insult to sundials everywhere: damned by lack of description. To be more heinously precise, it was a four-foot tall, hot pink sundial with cavorting cherubs in alarming shades of pastel.

If this had been the extent of the decoration, one might yet be able to behold the timepiece with the naked eye. Alas, some hookah-wielding craftsman had gone further in his quest for utter lack of taste: every hour on the hour (it was a very precise timepiece, unfortunately) the little pastel cherubs began to rotate around the dial, dancing and whistling a traditional Greek love song. The whistling had a somewhat breathy quality to it, so, to make matters worse, it sounded like a troupe of farting fat kids had come to roost upon this sundial.

To be sure, this mad attention to detail would be enough to have the Greek Good Taste Police after the owner. But there was one final detail that set it all off. Instead of a nice, understated brass dial...there was a giant, uncut penis merrily pointing to the hour. In fact, at noon the dial seemed to be at its happiest.

In short, this sundial had probably been banned from even the seediest trailer park in Greece, but here it stood in Iolaus and Iphicles' yard.

"It beats a pink flamingo," Iolaus pointed out finally.

"Are you sure this was from Aphrodite? Sounds more like Discord's work."

"Nah, Discord sent the Hydra, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." Iphicles tilted his head and squinted, hoping the gift would seem less tacky from that perspective. No luck. There weren't enough perspectives in the world.

"Maybe we can, you know, fudge a little," Iolaus suggested. He tugged his copper-haired husband down and pointed to the quill and parchment. " 'Dear Aphrodite, thank you so much for the wedding present. It's very unique...' "

" 'In fact," Iphicles went on, " 'we're at a loss to describe what we're feeling right now.' "

" 'We know that there is nothing else in the whole world just like it...' " Iolaus dictated.

" '...and we know that this sundial will stand as a symbol of our love. Yours, Iolaus and Iphicles.' "

They reread the note silently.

"A symbol of our love?" Iolaus asked. "I never pictured our love as a hot pink penis with cherubs dancing around it."

Iphicles wrestled him to the ground and much whoopee ensued.

Aphrodite squealed happily and waved the thank-you note in her brother's face.

"See, Ares? I *told* you they'd like it," she crowed. "Imagine giving something tacky like matching broadswords for a wedding gift." She snorted.

"At least my swords are useful," Ares retorted. "What can they possibly do with the monstrosity you gave them, other than offend the neighbors?"

Dite smiled sweetly at the War God. "Jealousy, jealousy!" she trilled.