Well, I had to write this sucker for school, but I liked it so much that I
felt that I had to share it before putting it in the trash can.  And they say
that fanfiction is only a time sucking non-occupation with no redeeming
qualities.  

UNTOLD TALE OF THE ARGONAUTS

NO DISCLAIMER!!!! NO DISCLAIMER!!!! AAAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!!!!!





	"You have some very odd ideas," said Hercules.  The air was still and quiet
aboard the Argo.  The crew was milling about, trying to occupy themselves with
various activities.  There was a game of dice going that Autolycus had
started.
	"Yes, well, they're only theories, see?  They might be wrong, right?"
responded Orpheus.
	"Hum, I suppose so," Hercules pondered for a few moments, then said, "Let me
just say this: from long experience with the Gods, I can say with some
certainty that if these mysteries of yours were correct, you would know from
the bolts of lightning and fire.  That whole 'go mad first' thing is pure
nonsense."
	"Well . . . that's disturbing.  Thanks heaps, Hercules," said Orpheus
sarcastically.  Orpheus then took out his lyre and began to strum upon it.
Hercules was the only person in the world that didn't like his music; well,
him and all of those wives of his various fans.  
	"Err, see you later, Orpheus.  Got to, um, batten the yardarms, and stuff of
that nature," Hercules best a hasty retreat to the other side of the ship.
Orpheus smiled behind his back and worked on that new type of music that came
to him when he was hit upon the head during an athletic event that he had
attended just before this trip. 
	It had been pretty quiet for about a few weeks.  After the Argonauts had left
the island of Lemnos with all the proper decorum of nobles of their stature,
they had been slowly making their way to Mysia.  However, the winds have not
been kind to them.  Also, most of the crew refused to row, saying how it was
beneath people of their social standing.  Jason would have threatened to use a
cat-o'-nine tails, but, sadly, that particular incentive had been invented
yet.  So he had only one recourse: staying below decks and sulking.  
	The rest of the crew of the Argos was having absolutely no fun whatsoever,
well most of them anyway.  Autolycus was winning most of their money.  They
would have ganged up and gotten their money back, with only a minimum of rib-
kicking and head-stomping.  However, they couldn't work up the nerve, for they
all knew that Autolycus could hand them their stomachs back on a gilded plate.
So they watched in envy at Atalanta and her bo (whose name they could never
remember) were making out again.  Orpheus had mentioned how sweet and romantic
it was, and got promptly jumped upon.  That provided a few moments of
amusement, but soon palled.  
	"I'm telling you that it lists to the right!" Typhus yelled.
	"Ha!  It lists because you can't steer!" replied Argus.  They had been going
at it hammer and tongs for the past few days now.  "It certainly isn't the
ship!  After all, the design is mine!  I built it!  Me!"  Argus promptly got
hit on the head with a rock and fell.  Typhus thanked the owl that was flying
overhead.  
	And so the days passed.           
	"I wonder how mother is?" asked Pollux.  
	"Yes, I do worry about her so.  I do hope that she stopped wandering the
ponds looking for father.  It's bad for her health," replied Castor.  Their
conversation meandered through the family tree, and occasionally fell off it. 
	"Oh look.  There's Stepmother!  Let's go greet her!" and so the twins went
off to greet their father's wife.  
	"HELLO, STEPMOTHER!" yelled the cheerful twins.  Hera's cheek twitched
slightly in response.  
	"Hello, boys," said Hera icily.  This did nothing to deter their enthusiasm
at seeing a member of their family, however illegitimate it was.  A roar of
pure fury came from the other side of the Argo.  
	"Hold him back!  Hold him back!"
	"We can't!  He's too strong!"
	"Argh!"-Splash-
	"Aieee!!!"-Crack-
	"MMM!!!"-Thud-
	"Oh my Gods, they killed Kennicus!"
	"You parthenai!"  
	And so on.  Hera immediately decided that her news wasn't as important as all
that, and promptly left.   Hercules calmed down and apologized for the
trouble.  And Jason wished that they had invented aspirin, and settled for the
soothing hull of the ship against his forehead meeting rapidly and frequently.
	Of course, Hera's news was as important as all that.  

	"Hey!  Thing off the . . . something bow!" yelled A. Random Nauticus, an
Argonaut who was never recorded by any writers who were named for the god of
Delphi.  
	Atalanta, who had stopped cuddling with her bo (whose name no one could
remember), ran toward the something bow.  She then stopped and yelled for
clarification.   After a few moments, during which threats and confusion
reigned supreme, Atalanta decided that Nauticus was an idiot, and went back to
her bo (whose name no one could remember).  
	Of course, this being a drama on the high seas, that is when the thing off
the something bow attacked.  A tentacle shot out of the ocean and wrapped
itself around the mast, snapping it like a twig.  And so it began.  The man-
eating octopus raised itself up to the top of the sea and started destroying
the ship.  Argus was weeping like a schoolgirl and had to be given some dried
frog pills to calm down.  
	"Oh my gods!  It's the Kraken!  The end is near!" gibbered a particularly
nervous crewman.  
	"It's not the Kraken.  For one thing, it's a lot bigger than this.  For
another, it's the wrong religion," said Orpheus calmly.  
	Meanwhile, those of the crew that actually did keep their heads on their
necks attacked the beast.  Many an arrow did not pierce the hide, nor did any
club bludgeon it enough.  Swords failed to heroically slice off the tentacle. 
	"It's not working!  We're just making it angry!"
	"I don't want to be eaten by a man-eating octopus!  It is undignified for
someone of my social standing!"
	"I believe that I may have a solution."
	Everyone stopped attacking the man-eating octopus and looked at Orpheus, for
it was he who had said it. 
	"Well?  Spit it out, man!" ordered Jason, as he once again blunted his sword
against the thick hid of the beast.
	"There isn't any time!  Just . . . plug your ears somehow!" yelled Orpheus.
Those of the crew that could, covered their ears and started humming
desperately.  Well, except for Hercules.
	"Be damned if I don't kill it.  Got a reputation to up-hold," muttered the
strongest man in the world.  
     	Orpheus took out his lyre and began strumming.  Then . . . the horror
began.  The man-eating octopus started keening in a way only a man-eating
octopus and things from Monster Island can.  Hercules fainted, and those that
didn't hum loud enough joined him.  
	Soon the man-eating octopus exploded, gore and blood and all sorts of other
stuff that probably would turn off all of the crew of the Argo from eating
Calamari ever again.  Orpheus stopped playing, not because the song was over,
but because his hands were too slick to play the lyre.  
	"Err, good job Orpheus.  I never knew that you could do that," admired the
rather sheepish Hercules.  
	"Neither did I," said Orpheus in all honesty.  
	"What was that anyway?" asked Jason.  He had been directing the crew on the
cleanup, saying that he wouldn't be the only one slamming their head against
the walls, if you catch his drift.  
	"It just came to me one day.  See, I was watching some athletic events in
Sparta, oh about a week before I got on this boat.  At any rate, they were
flying discuses everywhere and one hit me quite hard upon the noggin.  While I
was unconscious, this music came to me," responded Orpheus, who, despite all
appearances, was not going to say anything about the ways of the gods.
	"So, what are you going to call it?" asked Hercules, trying to get out of
clean-up duty by talking to the hero of the day, however it galled him to do
so.  
	"Hmm, I don't know.  I was thinking . . . Discus?  No, already taken.  How
about . . . Discos?"  
	"You know, that . . . music does sound like a Discos."      
	
Author's Afterword: Nothing much to say, really.  Hail Eric, all hail
Discordia.