January 14: Present day
Torquatus, god of rock music, stared around the Underworld. It was a dark, dank place with many lost souls floating around. He picked up a rock and threw it into the River Styx. It was instantly dissolved.
"Whoa," he said rather lamely. "Dad, this is where you live?"
"This is the place!" replied his father, Hades, almost too cheerily. "I know it's not much, but… Anyway! How was your mother's place, son?"
"It was better than this."
Hades recoiled. "I know it's not much, but it isn't my fault. I was forced to live here by my brother, Zeus. Mom always liked him best." He swore under his breath.
Torquatus stared at him. He was wearing black. All black. He was glad he didn't look like Hades. He had dirty-blonde hair he liked to mess up, because it gave him that "emo look". Torquatus was pretty good-looking considering his father was the god of the Underworld. (But then again, his mother was Persephone.) He usually wore an earring on his left ear and he wore red and black robes. When he was amongst the mortals, though, he wore a hoodie with two drumsticks and a guitar in the center surrounded in flames. After all, that was his logo. His Roman name was Eppelz.
"Wasn't your mom a Titan?" Following a nod from Hades, Torquatus continued, "You banished your own mother and now you're complaining that she liked the king of all gods best? You need to see a shrink."
With that, Torquatus went up to Earth. He put on his mortal clothes. He sighed. One of these days, his father was going to kill him. He shuddered. Kill was too strong a word especially when you were talking about Hades.
Torquatus stared up at the sky. It was a beautiful day. He was going to find his band, The Minors. He started walking to the old warehouse where he could always find them. As he walked, many of the teenage girls looked at him. He knew why. He had come to earth many times before. He already had a mortal girlfriend. He had a reputation of being good-looking and many girls fell for him.
He reached the warehouse. On the door was his advice, or saying: "Without a doubt, you must rock out!" He smiled to himself. It seemed almost lame now. He entered and said, "Flying monkeys." And The Minors came out. That was their password. They each gave Torquatus a high-five.
"How's it goin', Torquey?" said their drummer, Mick.
"Stop calling me that!" he chuckled.
They got into their positions and started rocking out. Torquatus stopped them in mid-song.
"Guys, guys! Why are you playing so bad?"
Each of them shrugged.
Torquatus got up from the speaker and lighting flew from his fingertips and hit all of The Minors in the heart. They all fell down and were unconscious.
"Hope that worked." Muttered Torquatus. He vanished in a puff of smoke.
When The Minors regained consciousness, they rocked hard and well.