Bar "Aphrodite from the Foam"

A Cosmic Absurd Comedy

URANUS, retired cosmonaut, host of the evening show “Sky Without Bollocks”.

GAEA, eco-activist, author of “Monsters Are Children Too”, Uranus’s wife.

CRONUS, new CEO of Heaven Corporation, Uranus’s son, suffers from PTSD.

ZEUS, lover of metamorphoses and lightning tricks, raging nymphomaniac, son of Cronus.

APHRODITE, influencer with 42 million followers, creator of the “Father’s Foam” brand and the #CastrationChallenge marathon, daughter of Uranus.

EROS, boy-archer, Aphrodite’s influencer-manager, CEO of “LoveTok”, author of courses “How to Make a Million Fall in Love in 30 Seconds”, eternal teenager with Peter Pan syndrome.

PAN, barman, creator of the PanicTok trend and the banger “Goat for Life”.

FREUD, Sigmund, Zeus’s personal psychotherapist.

HECATE, the only normal character.

Asteroids, comets, and assorted cosmic rubbish.

Setting: the cosmic bar “Aphrodite from Foam” (somewhere between Tartarus and Saturn’s orbit). The era — before Zeus’s reign. Freud is outside time.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

PROLOGUE

Neon lights. Pan’s syrinx playing. Behind the bar — Pan himself in an apron “Kiss the Cook… or I’ll Panic You”. On the wall — LED screen: #CastrationChallenge — 100 million views.

Welcome to the “Aphdrodite from Foam” — the only place where the head comes not from hops, but from family drama. Uranus and Gaea, little Cronus and naughty Zeus are about to serve it up tonight. Aphrodite will take a few selfies. Eros will juice the likes.

On the LED: Tonight’s special — “How to Overthrow Your Father Without Losing Followers”.

Your host — the greatest goat of three worlds, Pan.

Audience — you lot, mortals who stumbled in by accident.

Don’t panic. (Pan winks). Or do. It’s trending.

From the back: Uranus’s voice, “In my day the sky was different… and it still had its bollocks!”

SCENE I

Uranus enters. Pan behind the bar brewing tea.

Sidebar. Recipe for Pan-Tea:

Water — from the spring where nymphs wash Pan’s hooves. If occupied — tap water from Arcadia, but add a pinch of panic.

Tea — mint, thyme, dandelion picked under a full moon. Pan swears: “No dandelion — it’s just hot water for mortals.”

Steep exactly three minutes — the length of Pan’s “Goat for Life” flute solo.

Honey — from hives where bees dance to his pipes. (If crystallised — that’s just bee rock-and-roll)

Goat’s milk — fresh, from a goat who once saw Aphrodite naked and now blushes permanently.

Stir with own horn. (Pan: “Hygienic? Ha! I’m a god!”)

Serve with biscuits shaped like panic attacks. They crunch and suddenly scream “RUN!”

Back to the absurdity.

URANUS (glum) Pour me an ambrosia, lad. Feeling my age.

PAN (one eyebrow raised) Bit early for old age, isn’t it? Eons to go yet.

Uranus sits on a bar stool that creaks like an ancient orbit. Pan pours ambrosia into a mug reading “Best Dad 13.8 Billion Years Ago”.

URANUS (sighs into mug) In my day ambrosia was thicker. The sky was closer. And… well, you know.

PAN (winks) I know. You’ve come to moan again.

URANUS (bitter) Gaea says, “You’re hiding the kids in Tartarus!” I say, “Yes! They’re monsters! Cyclopes! Hecatonchires!” They’re not children. And she goes, “Monsters are children too!”

PAN (serves Pan-tea) Try this. No panic. Yet…

Uranus sips. The biscuit screams “RUN!” He jumps, spills the lot.

URANUS (wiping foam) What the bloody hell? A prank? I’m the sky! I’m eternal!

PAN (laughs) You’re a retired cosmonaut with a 0.0001% rated show called “Sky Without Bollocks”. Even the asteroids don’t watch.

Enter Gaea with a placard “Monsters Are Children Too” and a T-shirt “My Son’s a Titan and I’m Proud”.

GAEA (loud) Uranus! Hiding children again?! Found another in the cellar! He’s adorable! Hundred hands — can wash up, do laundry, and tweet simultaneously!

URANUS (despair) That’s not a child! That’s a multi-armed influencer! Already running @100HandsChallenge and #IndianGodsForever. Definitely mine?

GAEA (proud) Whose else?! (Actually Shiva’s — Pan winks)

Pan pours Gaea tea. Biscuit screams. She catches and eats it.

GAEA (chewing) Delicious. Panic’s a seasoning.

Cronus bursts in wearing a Heaven Corp suit, clutching a tablet, eyes bloodshot.

CRONUS (shouting) DAD! DAD! I’VE OVERTHROWN YOU! But first — coffee! Coffee! Damn good coffee! (frantically gulps from a black ceramic mug bearing a tiny owl and the blood-red lettering “Twin Peaks”)

PAN (sly) If only you had…

URANUS (stands) Son, off to Freud with you!

CRONUS (whispers) Been there. He said, “You fear being overthrown.” I said, “Well, Yes! Of course! Zeus is sharpening lightning bolts already!”

Pan drops the beat. “Goat for Life” plays. Everyone dances. Even Uranus. Even the biscuit.

PAN (into mic) And now — ad break! #CastrationChallenge — brought to you by Aphrodite! Like if you’re for family peace! Repost if you’re for the sickle!

Lights down. Aphrodite’s voice from darkness: “Foam isn’t the end. It’s a brand…”.

SCENE II

Pink neon. Aphrodite sweeps in — dress of foam, Saturn’s rings as bangles. Eros behind her with his like-bow, cap “Mum’s Boy”. Screen: #FathersFoam — 142 million views.

APHRODITE (to phone) Hello my foamy darlings! Live from space — drama, tea, and castration! Like for peace! Repost for sickle! Eros, darling, shoot!

Eros fires. +1 million views. Pan serves “Father’s Foam” cocktail — fizzing like young Uranus.

PAN (loudly) Aphrodite, your foam’s a banger! But Uranus is crying in the corner going “That’s mine!”

APHRODITE (laughs) Daddy, the foam’s not yours! You’re the father, I’m the brand! I was literally born in it! 42 million isn’t a joke! Eros, shoot the commenters!

Eros shoots. Comments: “Where’s the sickle?”, “Where’s Zeus?”, “Where’s Freud?”. Enter Freud in a lightning-pattern dressing gown, notebook “It’s not you, it’s Olympus”.

FREUD (calm) Zeus is late. Says he’s “in swan mode”. Classic. Aphrodite — is foam trauma?

APHRODITE (snorts) Doc, foam isn’t trauma! Foam is business! I monetised castration! #CastrationChallenge — number one! Like if you’re pro-therapy!

Zeus storms in as golden rain, then human in “I Love Nymphs” T-shirt.

ZEUS (loud) GRANDDAD! DAD! I’M OVERTHROWING! But first — selfie! Aphrodite, filter! Eros, shoot!

Eros shoots. Zeus likes himself.

CRONUS (from corner, trembling) He’s sharpening them! I knew it!

GAEA (stands) Children, enough! Uranus, apologise! Cronus, drink tea! Zeus, not a swan! Aphrodite, not foam! Eros, stop shooting!

Silence.

PAN (into mic) And now — group therapy! Freud, over to you!

FREUD Everyone on the cloud couch!

They sit. Pan serves “Therapy 3000” tea.

FREUD (puts on glasses) Uranus — castration anxiety. Cronus — PTSD. Zeus — nymphomania. Aphrodite — brand dependency. Eros — Oedipus. Gaea — guilt. Pan — panic. Me — Sigmund.

SCENE III

Cloud couch pulses. Screen: #OlympusOnTheCouch — 200 million views.

FREUD Uranus, you first. Hiding children — classic. Explain.

URANUS I’m not hiding! I’m storing! Tartarus is the cellar! Quiet! No tweets! No @100HandsChallenge!

GAEA Tartarus isn’t a nursery! I found a Cyclops forging lightning — for Zeus!

ZEUS (proud) Yes! Lightning is my brand! #ThunderTok! Like if you’re team thunder!

CRONUS (whispers, shaking) I swallowed! I swallowed! But Zeus got out! He was inside! Sharpening! Sharpening!

APHRODITE (to phone) Drama = content! Going live! Eros, shoot Cronus — make him fall in love!

Eros shoots. Cronus falls in love with the tea. Drinks. Calms.

CRONUS (peaceful) Tea’s lovely. Panic gone. Zeus still sharpening though.

PAN (winks) Tea is magic. Panic is branding.

FREUD (stands) Conclusion: family trauma. Trauma = content. Content = eternal. Therapy will continue. I’ll keep billing!

Asteroids rush in wearing helmets, placards “#SaveTheTitans” (this slogan later inspires the film “Remember the Titans”).

ASTEROIDS (chorus) We’re Uranus’s children! We’re not rubbish! But we’re eco-friendly — recycled!

URANUS You are the terror that flies on night’s wings!

GAEA (hugs asteroid) My baby! Monsters are children too…

Pan drops “Cosmic Rubbish” remix. Everyone dances. Even Freud. Even the tea.

PAN (into mic) Act finale! #FamilyForever! Like for chaos! Repost for sickle!

Lights out. Hecate’s voice from shadow: “The choice is yours. I shall light the way.”

SCENE IV

Three torches. Hecate steps from darkness. Three faces. Three flames. Key in hand. Even the likes fall silent.

HECATE (three voices, one meaning) The choice is yours. I shall light the way.

Hecate places torches on the bar. Pan kills the neon. Screen black.

HECATE (to Uranus) You are sky. But sky is not prison. Open Tartarus. Monsters are children too (winks at Gaea).

HECATE (to Cronus) You are time. But time is not chain. Let go. Zeus is not enemy (just an ambitious lad).

HECATE (to Zeus) You are thunder. But thunder is not power — it’s terror. Love (preferably not everything you fancy).

ZEUS (sheepish) I’ll… try. But the nymphs are mine!

HECATE (to Aphrodite) You are foam. But foam is not merchandise. Don’t sell (full price — discount only).

APHRODITE (drops phone) Right… going offline. For an hour. Until marketing invent promos.

HECATE (to Eros) You are arrow. But arrow is not like. Love everyone (Mummy’s boy forever).

HECATE (to Gaea) You are Earth. Accept. All of them. Even the husband (ever since, women have had trouble).

GAEA (hugs everyone) Monsters are children too.

HECATE (to Pan) You are panic. But panic is not a trend (AAAA… oh).

PAN (puts down syrinx) …I’ll be quiet.

HECATE (to all) You are not family. You are choice. You are path (ever since, human families have been absolute chaos).

Hecate hands each a key. Warm. Alive.

HECATE (in the voice of silence) Go. I am with you. In every step. In every “no”. In every “yes”. And especially at the crossroads (mind the traffic).

Each takes a key. The bar dissolves. Only a crossroads remains. Offstage — Cerberus barks. Everything will be all right.

THE END

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