The women, children, and elderly of the village huddled together in fear. Their men, armed with crude weapons and farming tools, stood before the mighty army of the Achaemenid Empire. They were helots, the serfs and slaves who tended to the land of Laconia, so that their masters, the Spartans, could ignore such work and play at war like children.
How could they expect help from their king and laws in the face of invasion, when that king and those laws said any helot could be murdered without penalty by any free citizen of Sparta? They were even used as fodder for training, so that the young Spartan soldiers could come of age by taking lives.
So it was with a sense of astonishment that they beheld the chariot racing towards them. A large Spartan man held the reigns in one hand, a torch in the other, crashing towards the army. At least one of the "warriors" had the honor to die alongside them in defense of their home, they solemnly thought.
This feeling soon dissipated. The chariot suddenly began to swerve, and sharply turned towards the village. With a thunderous crash the chariot exploded into a hut, breaking the two apart. The torch fell out of the Spartan's hand, and flame began to spread through the village. The villagers stood stunned. The Persians, who at first prepared to take out the "warrior" before all else, realized the comedy and began to laugh.
The man stood up. He wobbled from side to side. His large belly rolled. His cheeks were flush. The man was clearly in worship of Dionysus. He looked annoyed as two more chariots appeared.
"Moooooooother!!!" He bellowed. "You promised me I could kill the helots today!"
A Spartan woman climbed out of the second chariot and gestured towards the third where a younger woman and a dark-skinned African prince looked on anxiously.
"Amiroxos. Your sister and her courter wish to kill helots. You may do it another day."
The Spartan man's face grew even more crimson, though it may have been either rage or the heat from the flames of the village he had destroyed without care.
"Womaaaaaan! You have liiiiiiiiied to meeeeeeeee!" his words sending spit flying into her face. The Persian army was unable to control their laughter. "Siiiiiiilence, Asians! This is between mmmyyy mmotheeeeeerrrrrr... and I!"
The mother, straining in anger from the impudence of her son, pulled out an satchel from the chariot and swung it into his face.
"MYYYYYY FFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAACE!!!!!" he cried, his round hairy belly flopping up and down. "MOOOOOOOTHHHHEEEEEER!" He grabbed her by the wrists and began to shout. "IIII WILL NOT STAAAAAAAND FOOOOR THIIIIIIIIIS!" The bickering ensued while the helots wept and the Persians doubled over and rolled upon the ground.
Eventually, Spartan guards appeared. "Citizen and soldier! Have you done dishonor to this woman?"
"SHUT UP YOU PELOPONNESE PIGS!" the man cried. At some point during the argument his sandals have been unloosed, and he moved his feet to keep the rocks out of his toes. He climbed into his mother's chariot.
"You have imbibed too much wine!" The guards shouted.
"Nonnnnnnnnnnnsense! The physician gave me a potionnnnnn, a breeeeewed teeeeeea of the east, said to give the body lifeeeeeee!" he argued, obviously still under the influence of the vine. "And noooow, ooooofffff!" He nearly fell off as the horses started forward, and wobbled back and forth as they carried him on a crooked and curving path into the distance.
The army of Persians stood silent. It was too funny to even laugh. Their bellies had nearly split in pain. Suddenly, one of the soldiers cried out with a start.
"My hashish! Someone has taken it!"
