"Oh, yes, sire. Indeed we did. We didn't want to give him the chance of changing his mind. I had to call on all the Gods - save yourself, Sire - to get the job done. Such dedication. Even Hera carried her share. Lovely wife, Sire, lovely!"
The gardener smiled. Zeus nodded somewhat glumly.
"And we gave him 5 bottles of wine to insure he gave no further thought to the fertilizer or the stables."
"What! What is this! Stables! Did you say Stables!" Zeus brow was dark, and the clouds above Olympus now roiled and flashes of lighting lit the dour sky.
"Why, yes, sire. It seems that, through negligence, the stables had not been cleaned in - well, in a long time. One might say they were a bit ripe."
"And the horses! Poor things! They were indeed in need of washing and curry-combing."
"But, to the matter at hand. Yes, stables they were. And full to the brim with excellent fertilizer. Oh, such gardens as we shall have this spring! I'm sure you will be well pleased."
Zeus sniffed the air. Zeus seemed to be not well pleased. He was muttering to himself.
"Callow youth? Stables? Fertilizer? I will have his head . . .!
Buying it from him with my own goods! Inconceivable!"
"Had all the Gods and Goddesses hard at work. That's something
I've never accomplished. Ah, perhaps he might fit in well at
Olympus!"