You don't need a lawyer

"You don't need a lawyer, you're a smart gal." Zeus waved his hand in my direction. "We're just hammering out the details on a friendly deal. No reason to get technical about it. In the real world, people don't worry about nickels and dimes and doing things to the exact cent. Friends do not treat each other like this, and this is not how you want to start a working relationship."

"Now I am sure I need a lawyer," I remarked again, looking at the papers which were laid out neatly on the desk. Plenty of spots filled in, all with Penelope, alias Brent, marked down correctly and properly. Every I dotted and every T crossed, no doubt. Probably really complicated, and I noticed several sections written in letters I didn't recognize, looking like a a combination of greek, latin, arabic, cuneiform and hebrew. One passage at the bottom struck me as odd though. All creations shall be deemed non-canon except at the direction of Zeus, who claims sole ownership and distribution rights for eternity?

"You don't get a lawyer for this, Penny baby... you're not on trial,"

"If I like you, you may call me that. For the record. I do not like you." I commented.

"Are you kidding? You're fucking kidding, babe. Look at yourself. You're a fucking female self-insert Gary Stu with delusions of grandeur. You've stolen more lines than I did of coke." Zeus grumbled. "Everything about you is stolen from somewhere else. Everything. You think you're going to just come back and take something from me that you sold? It doesn't WORK like that, Penelope. You don't get to be ME."

"I don't want to be you," I stepped back from the desk. "I want a lawyer. "

"Sure... you know a god who's versed in law, and who you've called on?" He smirked, his face taking on a sadistic grin. "You think you're the only one who can plan ahead? I knew you were going to try this one, idiot. Divine law states that you have to call on a god to get their aid. And guess what? I made sure that you can't say anybody's name but mine. Not consciously. Little insurance policy. No, it's not fair, but that's why you don't go up against me. So... care to look at the contract again?"

"What do you mean you..."

"I set up the game, I make the rules. You start cheating to win, and I just take the board and go home. I hate cheaters. Bringing in somebody without calling on them in earnest is cheating. So... are we playing, or am I taking my game and going home?"

The door behind us suddenly slammed open and drew our attention.

"Hold it! Hold Everything! I object! No! She Doesn't! Stop the Wedding! You Can't HANDLE the Truth! ATTICA! AAAAATTTIIIICAAAA!" Eris' voice shouted from the door as she burst through. She was dressed in a Dark Grey suit and miniskirt, with a white shirt that gaped open, revealing her cleavage. I hadn't noticed before, but she actually was... fairly well endowed in the chest when she chose to amplify it. The high heels and panty hose drew the attention marvelously, and she barged through the office, the nude Ganymede stood in the door with a hand raised ineffectually. The door swung shut behind her as she marched up to the desk, a large brown valise in her hand.

"Get out of here, Eris, you're banned," Zeus ordered her, not even bothering to look up from the paperwork that he had scrupulously begun arranging the second she entered.

"Actually, according to subsection 23: 13 if a mortal calls upon a god it gives the god presence... and in section 8-8 you acknowledge the presence of many gods, therefore the banning is effectively nulled by your appearance here."

"Don't quote the law at me. I wrote it. Fine. But that still doesn't mean you get to come in without being called on. She CAN'T have called on you, I made sure of it."

Eris smirked, standing next to me. She punched me in the arm with a friendly gesture.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, Rules of Drama say I had to show up when all hope seems lost. So... Randy... like I was saying..."

"Don't call me that, I'm your father."

"You're not my Dad, Randy... Thought we established that when you called Mom a faithless slut." Eris shrugged. "Long story, involves a little getaway in the south of Italy with Mom and Dad's war buddy. I don't exactly look like Thundertits over here, do I?"

"If you're done grandstanding..." Zeus began.

"Oh, you want to talk Grandstanding? Let's talk grandstanding, Sir Wanks-a-lot. You want to talk about big fucking displays? How many moves have you made with Kings Privilege now? This is your THIRD, I'd like to point out. There's a difference between rank hath its privileges and just being a fucking dick. She said no. We're done here."

"But you can't BE here." Zeus pointed out. "Doesn't matter whether or not you have the right to be here, she can't have called on you."

"I'd like to remind you about the Moses contract and the subsection regarding humor," Eris winked at me, pulling a big folder out of her bag which was decorated with a large six pointed star.

"The... gag section? What about it?"

"Specifically the rule regarding Jewish Jokes and their status as being above criticism."

"You can't be seriously taking that section..."

"An Entry into the Film History library for a Fart Joke, to cite the Blazing Saddles Precedent." Eris quoted from the blue folder. "I would also like to submit for the record the entire performance record of Saturday Night Live from inception to present, as well as the entire NBC lineup during the period 1994-2000."

"Fine... fine, you can't criticize Jewish jokes, SO WHAT?"

"I submit that Spaceballs, being a Mel Brooks film, by definition falls under the Jewish Humor, specifically the "Jews In Space" joke, and as a result all memes from that film fall under the umbrella of being above criticism. The Dark Helmut plays with dolls scene is Iconic enough that mentioning lines will automatically cause the average person, which Penelope's identity falls under, to automatically repeat, or state a line in accordance with the scene, as is mandated by the common culture rules you put into effect with the rise of television."

"That still doesn't give an excuse for..." Zeus began.

"FURTHERMORE," Eris spoke loudly, "The rule of Parody established by precedents of Zucker and Neilsen, and Freidberg and Seltzer vs. Good Taste, States that as long as a character can conceivably be engaging in an iconic action, the transitive property of humor allows for the character to assume the identity without a name or wardrobe change. Therefore, Since Helmut, and Eris have the same number of syllables, the beats for the joke are identical. This thus allows me to be called upon unconsciously for a gag, and according to the record, Penelope successfully called on me Twice."

I boggled at her, trying to follow the logic. It seemed to somehow make no sense whatsoever, but I remembered... a joke about her playing with dolls and then us at the booth. It was fuzzy, but I seemed to have forgotten all about it in the confusion.