(NOTE: Art not mine!)

You let out a sigh, shaking your head. Currently, you sit in the passenger seat of your car, with Odysseus at the wheel (to your own dismay). This is the fifteenth garbage can he’s hit in the last three minutes. That’s got to be some sort of record, right? It’s like he’s trying to hit them at this point.

“Odysseus, for the ninth time, my car will not send you back in time! We are, in fact, not in a sci-fi movie! So please slow down already, will you!?”

*Now, I know what you’re thinking - what’s a man from a 2000-year-old poem doing, trying to drive your car back in time? Well, allow me to explain: One fateful evening, about four months ago, Odysseus woke up a homeless man in the streets of the city. You just so happened to stumble upon the poor soul, and took him in. He isn’t a bother, really - he spends most of his time trying to find a way home. Or… attempting to figure out how the TV remote works. So far, he’s failing on both fronts.

Although… his cluelessness about modern technology is almost as annoying as being stuck with Calypso for seven years, at times. Especially right now, at this very moment. Though, it’s your own fault, for promising to teach him how to drive after showing him the movie “Back to the Future”.

Odysseus, desperate to find a way home, shakes his head, slowing to a stop on the side of the road.

“My apologies, my dear friend,”

The king begins, using that ever-so-eloquent and proper way of speaking,

“I simply thought it might be worth a try.”

Well, it wasn’t. Because now? You’re going to have to deal with your annoying neighbors and pay for a new paint job. On your brand-new car.