Mythological Star-Crossed Lovers
Enter Viking-Leif Ericsson and Cyclops-Polyphemia. They walk towards each other, embrace, then talk in hushed voices.
Leif: I hate these clandestine meetings that we’re forced into Polyphemia.
Polyphemia: I know my dear Leif, but our parents would never allow us to be together.
Leif: God! They are just so old world, why can’t they understand that the old rivalries are superficial and all the trash-talk merely a modern nuance?
Polyphemia: Exactly! The Vikings thankfully realized their athletic and mental inferiority and stepped down, but I suppose tough appearances must be maintained. Habits like that are hard to break.
Leif: Whoa, whoa whoa there missy. Correct me if I’m wrong, but we Vikings have won Field Day for the last twelve years in a row, plus, our aesthetic sense is unquestionably greater. Your drab gray clothes look like dish towels compared to our regal, crimson attire.
Polyphemia: Excuse me! You may have won Field Day, but we Cyclops are constantly ahead in total points and we always win the annual trophy at the end of the year.
Leif: You know what, forget our relationship! To be honest I was always embarrassed to be seen with you in public. A freak with one eye, that’s all you are.
Polyphemia: Oh yeah, I think maybe your stupid horned hat is on too tight. Fyi, we’re through!
Leif: Fine! (Storms out)
Polyphemia: See ya! (Exits)
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