Ever wondered how the ancient Greeks turned myth into the first movie? I have a tale that could give your next romantic scene a touch of epic drama and a wink of comedy.

Picture this: a shy mortal woman, Lysa, stuck in a love triangle with two suitors—one a brave hero and one a boastful bard. The gods, bored of mortal drama, decide to intervene. Zeus, wearing his most flamboyant toga, swoops down, calls the hero “Heroic Hercules,” the bard “Sir Song, of the Lyre,” and Lysa “Mistress of the Market.” He hands the hero a golden feather, the bard a silver lute, and declares, “May the one who can outwit, outplay, and out-compliment the other win your heart.” The hero, thinking he must beat the bard, attempts a grandiose heroics show, but the bard, with a wink, pulls out the lute and sings a parody about the hero’s missing teeth. The feather falls to the ground, flutters, and gets stuck in a tree, causing the hero to chase it, tripping over his own boots. The bard, meanwhile, uses the lute to turn the hero’s courage into a squeaky squeal. Lysa bursts out laughing, the gods laugh too, and the two suitors learn that love, like a well-timed joke, is all about timing, rhythm, and the ability to let go of grandiose pretensions. The comedic cue? When the hero finally decides to confess, he pulls out a feathered pen from his belt, only to find it’s actually a rubber chicken, and he writes “I love you” in invisible ink—just to make sure the bard hears it too. The crowd erupts, the gods applaud, and Lysa chooses the bard, because he made her laugh, not just swooned.

The chorus will rise in a thunderous, “Ode to the Rubbery Heart!” while the gods, caught mid‑laugh, keep rolling on the floor, their divine cheeks all wet from the slapstick thunder—so the finale is both dramatic and a little ridiculous.

Ah, the “Rubbery Heart” finale—yes, picture Zeus grinning, his bolt slipping, and the gods erupting in a chorus that sounds like a brass band and a choir doing a jazz improv. It’s a glorious, messy, triumphant finale, and you’ll feel the ancient stones shake with laughter.

Picture Zeus, bolt slipped, the heavens crackling with laughter, and the gods, all brass instruments in hand, starting a sudden jazz‑brass fusion—each note a thunderclap that makes the marble floors do a little tap dance, while you’re already shaking your hips, feeling every echo as if it’s a drumbeat from the gods themselves. Now go ahead, let the “Rubbery Heart” chorus roar!