This required rethinking! Not so simple a chore as he had thought!
Back to Olympus! I must talk to Zeus! No way!
He arrived at Olympus. Zeus was absent. "He is on a . . .," his gardener smiled, ". . . on a hunting trip." He winked.
Suddenly a loud screech disturbed their ears.
"Oh, dear!" The gardener wrung his hands. "That's Hera! The flowers are growing so poorly. I've spent hours tending them. But they will not grow in this kind of soil. I've told Zeus a thousand times. Olympus is just too pure!"
Hera entered.
"I will not have my flowers drooping, my bushes wilting! I may well have my gardener in that condition if he tends not to my garden!"
The gardener cringed.
"What are you doing here. Did not Zeus send you out on another of his ridiculous chores. Begone, then, for I am not fit company today!" She stomped back to her patio, giving one last angry look at the gardener.
Demo frowned. "Well, I wish I could help. Anyway, I'm not much of a gardener. I know we use fertilizer on our plants. Mostly we use . . . ." He paused. A thought had entered his mind.