V1 spins its coin with a ping! so bright,
V2 complains, "Stop stealing my light!"
They bicker and spar, sparks flying free,
But it's all in good fun—just rivalry.

Gabriel drops by in his radiant grace,
"Greetings, dear sinners—let’s keep this place
Away from the bloodshed, just for today.
How about chess? Or a café buffet?"

Filth bubbles up from the sewer below,
"Hey guys! Uh… mind if I join the show?"
They nod—it’s cool—so he slimes up a seat,
(But everyone steps back—he smells like defeat).

Ferryman rows in, his boat creaking slow,
"Need a lift? The River Styx is aglow!"
Minos Prime waves, "Thy offer is kind,
But perhaps we shall feast—leave war behind?"

Sisyphus Prime cracks his knuckles with pride,
"I’ll grill us some burgers!" The others step wide—
His cooking’s intense—flames lick the sky,
But hey, at least no one will die (probably).

Maurice floats past, just doing his thing,
Whispering secrets—"The Council will sing…"
But nobody listens—they’re too busy now,
Sharing dumb memes or arguing how

The Leviathan would fit in the pool.
(It doesn’t. The answer is NO, you fool.)

So here’s to the killers, the saints, and the damned,
Just hanging out—no bloodlust at hand.
For once, in this moment, they laugh, they jest—
War’s on hold—so they’ll chill at their best.