Special Delivery Instructions for the God Saturn’s DoorDash Order
I’d like to eat my infant son in a timely manner
Hey man, I know my profile lists my name as The Titan Cronus, but the name on the order is going to be for Saturn. My bad — I forgot to change it when I placed the order in the app.
My last Dasher screwed up my order pretty bad, so I want to be really clear here. I’m not exaggerating when I say that if you do not follow these delivery instructions exactly, I may be deposed as the deity of the sky and earth.
First of all, when you go to pick up the order, please DOUBLE CHECK that all the items are included in the pickup bag. The order is for one Hestia, one Demeter, one Hera, one Hades, one Poseidon, and — this is very important! — one Zeus. If they’re still doing to-go cups of ambrosia I’ll take one of those, too.
I hate to be high maintenance about this but the last time I ordered through DoorDash, I got a stone wrapped in cloth instead of my infant son Zeus. Did that last guy seriously think I would order a stone dressed like a baby and just immediately eat it without bothering to unwrap it first? Because that’s exactly what happened, and it gave me some pretty severe indigestion and basically ruined my life.
So I’ll repeat: I’m not ordering five newborn deities with a rock sidecar. Again, this feels pretty obvious to me, but my lower intestine really can’t take a repeat of last time. MAKE SURE THERE IS A BABY ZEUS IN THE BAG!! Seriously, I can’t emphasize that enough.
At this point you’re probably wondering, “Wait, is this guy going to eat his own fucking children?” The last guy had a lot of questions like that. To streamline things, the answer is yes. Long story short, some prophecy said that one of my children would usurp me. So, obviously, I have to eat them. ALL of them. As soon as they’re born. It’s really not that complicated. I hope that clears things up.
Another thing: the cashier, Rhea, might give you a hard time when you go to pick up the order. I think she’s got something against me. Full disclosure, she’s my sister. Also she’s the mother of my children, whom I want you to grab basically as soon as they’re born. I know, it’s a complicated order. I won’t bore you with the details, but I’m pretty sure she conspired with Uranus and Ge on the whole rock-baby swap last time.
Google Maps will probably try to take you to Elysian Fields, but (thanks to the moron that delivered my order last time) I’m actually at the Isles of the Blessed now. This is basically a retirement community, and it totally sucks. You’ll have to call me once you get to the river Styx so I can let you in. Bring me the baby Zeus and maybe I won’t have to live here anymore and I can stop having to DoorDash for meals outside of this goddamned food desert. Seriously, a guy can only drink so much nectar.
And PLEASE deliver this order as quickly as you can. Every minute that Zeus is not being devoured in my mouth is a minute that he could slip away to a cave on Mount Aegeum and, eventually, undermine my reign. Plus I’m tired of the food being tepid by the time you jokers get it to me. What can I say? I like my food hot — I’m not a monster!
Finally, please don’t Google search my name. This painter, Francisco Goya, used my name and image in a smear campaign a few centuries ago. So I didn’t tip him once or twice when he was delivering for DoorDash before he ‘made it’ as an artist, what’s the big deal? How was I supposed to know he’d get famous? Total dick. Now it’s always the first thing that comes up when you type in my name. Has everyone seriously forgotten that I presided over a Golden Age of wealth and plenty? Yeah, I ate my own children, but that’s not, like, the only thing I did, you know? Even we immortals get hangry sometimes. That painting doesn’t even really look like me.
And please wear a mask!
