I’m glad you asked that. After all, this book is called Keep a Lid on It, Pandora! So you were probably expecting her to show up right away. Like on the first page. Or at least in the first chapter. But Pandora doesn’t make her grand entrance until chapter VII. No, make that chapter VIII. So here’s my advice: Keep a lid on it!

Now, on with the story.

“Whichever platter you choose,” Prometheus told Zeus, “this will be the gods’ share of the meat from now until the end of time. Go ahead, Zeus. Pick.”

“Duh!” said Zeus, looking from the pile of steaks to the pile of sloppy innards. “That’s a no-brainer! I pick—”

“Hold it, Zeus!” Hera said, cutting him off.

“Huh?” said Zeus. “What now?”

“Maybe we should all talk about it,” said Hera. “Make the decision together.”

“Right,” said Aphrodite. “The steak looks a little thin to me.”

“Things are not always as they seem,” added Demeter. She sounded as mystical as the oracle at Delphi.

“Really,” said Po. “Come on, Zeus. At least go up to the tables. Poke around a little bit.”

“Sorry,” said Epi. “No poking allowed.”

“I never poke anyway,” said Zeus. “I choose that sacrifice!” He pointed to the platter of steak.

“So it shall be forever!” said Prometheus.

“You keep saying that,” said Zeus. “Are we finished here? ‘Cause I am. I’m going to take this steak back up to my cooking nymphs. Have them throw it on the barbie.” Zeus strode up to the table and grabbed the platter holding the steak. He whisked it away so fast that the steak slipped off the platter. We all saw that Aphrodite had been right. The steak was thin. Very thin! And hidden under it were not thicker steaks—but a big pile of boar bones covered with a thick layer of fat!

“What’s this?” thundered Zeus. He picked up the little steak. He held it between his thumb and forefinger. It was thin as parchment. And riddled with gristle. “You call this a steak?”

“I didn’t call it anything,” said Prometheus. “You picked it.”

“I told you to wait, Zeus!” wailed Hera. “Why do you never listen to me?”

Zeus stared at that skinny steak, horrified. Then he glanced back at the pile of fat-smeared bones. Finally, his beady eyes found their way to Prometheus.

“You have dared to trick the gods!” growled Zeus.

“Not the gods, Zeus,” said Prometheus. “Just you.”

“Not too smart, Dad,” said Athena. “You should have asked me!”

“Bad move, Zeus,” said Po.

“Oh, too much meat isn’t good for us anyway,” said Demeter. “Whole grains. That’s the ticket. And lots of fresh fruits, nuts, veg—”

“Stop yapping, Demeter!” shouted Zeus. “It makes my head hurt.”

You’d think Zeus might have been grateful that at least one of the Olympians was sticking up for him. But he’s never grateful.

“This was no mistake,” Zeus said at last. He looked very sly. “Why, there’s nothing I love better than a nice, fat-coated bone. Chewing on bones is good for the teeth. Does wonders for the gums. Thanks, Prometheus. I love bones! Yum!” He picked one up and started gnawing on it. He reminded me of Cerbie.

“Oh, for Mount Olympus’s sakes, Zeus!” said our mom, Rhea. “This is more than I can take.” She began chanting the astro-traveling spell. Most of the Olympians joined in the chanting. ZIP! They were gone.

“What we get, Prometheus?” yelled one of the guys. “Innards?”

“Right,” said Prometheus, walking over to the table that held the gloppy intestines, stomach, and so forth. “You get innards.”

“Rats,” said several guys.

They all looked pretty disappointed.

“We still got berries,” said one.

“And nuts,” said another.

Now Prometheus brushed the innards off the platter. Underneath them was a big, thick, juicy boar steak.

“All riiiight!” roared the guys. “We got steak! We got steak!” They rushed over to Prometheus and picked him up on their shoulders. The Titan was titanic, so it took almost every single guy to do it. They paraded him around the base of Mount Olympus.

Zeus’s chin was slick with grease from gnawing on that bone. He wiped it with the sleeve of his robe and shot a look my way. “You, Hades. You’re big buddies with Prometheus. You probably helped him cook up this trick. Didn’t you?”

“I have a kingdom to run, Zeus,” I told him. “I don’t have time for tricks.”

“Humph.” Zeus grunted. “Well, Prometheus is going to be sorry he pulled this little stunt. And when I say sorry, I mean sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be vengeful, Zeus,” I said. “Those poor guys, eating berries day after day. It was pitiful. If you want a steak so much, have your nymphs come down to earth and get an ox.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Zeus shouted. “I’m king of the gods! I know what to do!” With that, he tried chanting the astro-traveling spell. But he was so angry and sputtering that he couldn’t spit it out. He stomped off.

I walked with Po over to our chariots. My fearless guard dog was snoozing in the backseat.

Po and I said goodbye. He jumped into his chariot and took off. I was about to step into the driver’s seat and take off, too, when the guys put Prometheus down. I waited to see what would happen.

Several guys ran over to the platter and grabbed the boar steak. They all wanted the meat. It turned into a big tug-of-war.

“Knock it off, guys!” said Epi. “We’ve got a whole cooler full of steaks in our wagon! There’s plenty for everyone.”

“Yay!” yelled all the guys. They ran over to the wagon.

Prometheus and Epi hurried over, too. Epi opened the cooler. He and Prometheus started handing out steaks.

They offered me one, but I said no thanks. I started to climb into my chariot for a second time when suddenly Zeus ran over. He shook his fist at Prometheus.

“I’ll punish you, Titan,” he said. “Look into the future, and see how you will suffer!”

“I can’t see my own future very often, Zeus,” said Prometheus. “Sorry.”

“Well, if you could, you wouldn’t like it,” said Zeus. “And listen here. Maybe you fixed it so those mortals you made got the good meat. But—” his eyes lit up like live coals—“they don’t have fire! No, and they never will! Never! So from now until the end of time, they’ll have to eat raw meat!” Zeus started laughing like crazy. Still laughing, he managed to get the astro-traveling chant right. ZIP! He was out of there.

“Raw?” said one of the guys. They all started grumbling.

“Hey, simmer down,” said Epi. “Real guys love raw meat.”

“Anyway,” added Prometheus, “pretty soon I’m going to bring you guys fire.”

Fire! I almost tripped over my reins when I heard that. Prometheus had made Zeus sizzling mad already. Was he trying to get himself zapped with a thunderbolt?

“Yeah,” Prometheus was saying, “and when you have fire, I’ll teach you guys how to cook your meat this really cool way. It’s called . . . grilling.”