"Grim, this is the first soul you've collected in weeks," Hades chided, shaking his head, "This is becoming a problem."

Grim crossed his arms. "So what?"

"Son, just as you reminded me earlier, you're not a child anymore. It's time for you to start growing up and taking your responsibilities more seriously."

Grim stuck his tongue out at Hades, rolling his eyes. "Sure, sure, whatever. Blah-blah, you're old now, you gotta start doing stuff, geez, you say the same thing every time we talk! This is why I'm always out of the house!"

"Grim, do you remember the story of how the stars in the sky came to be?"

"Are you seriously about to tell that stupid story again?" Grim asked, smacking his palm against his forehead.

"Millions of years ago, before this earth came into being-" Grim took this as a yes. He groaned.

Hades eyed his son critically, and then continued: "There was once a god known as Cosmos. His domain was, naturally, space. His sole job was to make the stars shine."

"Which is stupid," Grim added.

Hades smiled sadly, "With that simple job, Cosmos became lazy. He was no longer interested in his job, and eventually, he stopped making the stars shine."

As Hades rambled on, Grim let his eyes wander. He focused on the massive vase that sat on the mantle above his thrown. It sat precariously on the marble, almost too precariously. Grim had looked at that very vase every time his father went into a lecture (which was often), and he didn't remember it being that close to the edge.

"Are you paying attention?" Hades snapped.

Grim scratched the five-o'clock-shadow that clung to his jawline. "Yeah, uh, something about... something."

"I was saying that myself and the other gods confronted Cosmos about his behavoir, but he refused to comply. We were left with no choice but to punish him. We cut him into pieces and spread him across the galaxy, creating the stars."

Grim threw his hands in the air. "Are you threatening to slice me up if I don't do my work?"

"I'm trying to make you understand that there are consequences for irresponsibility, Grim," Hades growled, "You can't keep slacking off like this."

"Watch me!" Grim shouted, "You can't tell me what to do!"

Hades paced a circle around the room, sighing. "Grim, I'm not sure what's wrong with you."

"'What's wrong with me?!' Are you saying I'm wrong?" Grim hissed, his eye twitching. Behind him, Artemis shuffled, awkwardly pausing in the midst of licking between his legs. He flattened his ears against his head, watching Grim cautiously.

"You know that's not what I meant. I just need you to stop acting like a child and start taking on some responsibilities!" Hades barked, rubbing his temples.

"Maybe I don't want to! Maybe I want you to just leave me alone!" he stomped his foot for emphasis.

In a split second, several things happened. First of all, on Earth, a women had just given birth. Secondly, in that very same fraction of a second, a man discovered that the restaurant he had eaten at was infested with rather nasty strain of mold.

Also, Hades's prized vase fell off the mantle and hit the floor.