Odysseus: I, uh...

Breseis: Yeah, thought so.

Breseis starts to walk away.

Odysseus: You wouldn't care to join me for dinner, would you? It's going to be a royal feast.

Breseis: You telling me?

Odysseus: Madame, I merely inquire. I leave it to you.

Breseis: Bite me.

Odysseus: I apologize for inconveniencing you. He heads offstage.

Breseis: Hey, hold your horses, boyo. Why'd ya bother asking?

Odysseus: Because... because... because, madame, I am a... a creature of logic, and logic dictates that—

Breseis: Sorry, what?

Odysseus: All right! I don't know what precisely it was you said, but I suppose you personified yourself somehow, and my chauvinistic paradigms seem... interrupted...

Breseis: One last chance.

Odysseus: I respect you?

Breseis: High Hera, it must have hurt a lot to say that one, huh?

Odysseus: Rather...

Breseis: Well, I've never actually been asked before, you know. Nobody really bothers to find out what I think.

Odysseus: Yes; I'm sorry.

Breseis: What the hell, it's nothing against you personally. Married, right?

Odysseus: Uh, well—

Breseis: Aren't you all. Kids?

Odysseus: That too.

Breseis: Sweet Athene. I'm sure the missus loves you for running around the countryside screwing everyone you meet.

Odysseus: What?!

Breseis: Don't think you can fool me.

Odysseus: No, I'd never do that... not anymore... Look, to tell you the truth, I'm rather fond of my wife, Penelope.

Breseis: Right; that's why you asked me to dinner.

Odysseus: Mayhap initially. Please allow me to repeat my request. Would you join me for dinner, not as a surrogate anything, but as a companion for discourse and other intellectual pursuits?

Breseis: Say it again.

Odysseus: I'd like you as a friend.

Breseis: Well... I suppose it can't do much harm, huh? And I really like the way you use all those stupid words to try and hide what you're really saying. Can you teach me to do that?

Odysseus: If you teach me how to be so wonderfully blunt.

Breseis: You're on.

Odysseus: Let's go.

They cross to stage left.
Agamemnon, Achilles, Menelaus, Nestor, Diomedes and Ajax enter, and all seat themselves at the table.

Agamemnon: Thank you all for coming. We're gathered here to grieve for the death of our dear friend, Patroclus.

Achilles starts to bawl.

Diomedes: Shh, now, Achilles.

Agamemnon: My brother Menelaus will now give the funeral oration.

Menelaus: When you're with the same people in what's essentially closed quarters for just under a decade, people start to grate. Habits that were once endearing become irritating, and personalities we once found enchanting degenerate into tiresome caricatures. When you see someone as close up as you do after nine years, no one looks pretty. Well, almost no one. You see, Patroclus was one of those people that never seemed to fade with time. He was quiet, attentive, and gentle; truly, he was the kindest of we Achaians.

Achilles' sobbing is now getting to be disruptive.

Menelaus: Who doesn't feel his loss? Who can but—I'm sorry, Achilles, could you tone it down a little?

Breseis: Oh, he can. Dunno if he will.

Odysseus: Breseis, I don't know if now is the time.

Breseis: Why not? He's obviously faking it.

Achilles pulls out an oversized, brightly coloured hanky and honks on it.

Agamemnon: Who let her in?

Odysseus: I, er, invited her.

Agamemnon: You what?

Breseis: Who cares? It stuns me silly that you can believe him.

Achilles: It's you! Breseis!

Breseis: Why, hi there, Achilles. How've you been without me?

Agamemnon: Look here! This is a funeral!

Breseis: Funny kind of funeral. Looks more like a fiesta.

Odysseus: Shh, now! Later.

Menelaus: Perhaps we should skip straight to the funeral games.

Breseis: Games? This is a party! Bring on the spiced wine!

Menelaus: Breseis, some of us actually do mourn this day. Please respect that.

Agamemnon: Right, let's get started. I'm turning the reigns over to Achilles. Since Patroclus was his dearest friend, he can judge the events.

Achilles: First off, we have the foot race. Who's up?

Odysseus: I am.

Ajax: Me! Oo! Oo!

Diomedes: Count me in, too!

Achilles: Agamemnon, aren't you going to participate?

Agamemnon: I'm going to let some other people win prizes first.

Achilles: Menelaus?

Menelaus: To tell the truth, I'm not feeling very well. Go ahead.

Achilles: We have a three-man race.

Breseis: Wait; can I join?

Achilles: Sure, but rules prevent women from competing. You can strip and show us you're male if you like. In fact, I encourage it.

Breseis: Forget it.

Achilles: Runners, get on your mark, get set, and go—rilla! Haha, false start, Diomedes! Get off the track! Let's start again. On your mark, get set, go—ds in heaven, what is that thing? Haha, gotcha, Ajax! Looks as if Odysseus is the winner. Congratulations. And may I say what poor sportsman the rest of you showed, to let him win the race without running a single step!

Odysseus: What do I get?

Achilles: Three handsome slave girls.

Odysseus: Eugh... I think I'll pass.

Achilles: All the more for me. Next event, the wrestling competition! Any volunteers? No? Then I'll have to pick you. Let's have Great Ajax versus Little Ajax. Oh, I forgot that your puppet was torn to pieces by Hector. Wasn't that funny? Fine: Great Ajax versus Odysseus. That's almost as good. Little titch versus a great lout like you! Perfect!

Ajax: But we just competed.

Achilles: Well... I guess Breseis doesn't want to join this one?

Breseis: No, thank you.

Achilles: Too bad. Well, that's your answer. Minimum two contestants. Ggggggo!

Odysseus looks terrified, panics, and with a squeal of ferocity leaps upon Ajax's back, beating him with his fists. Ajax just stands there same as ever, not batting an eyelid. Finally,

Achilles: Fine! Enough! This is boring. You both win.

Odysseus: What's the prize?

Achilles: Um... (snatching some kitchenware) These fine copper pots.

Odysseus: They aren't even copper. That's lead.

Ajax: WOW! Thank you! I can finally try those new recipes I thought of. Er, get some girls to try my recipes. Er, use this pot to bash people's heads in?

Agamemnon: Is that it, Achilles?

Achilles: Well, we were going to have a chariot race, but my talking horse thought it was a bad idea.

Menelaus: Your what?

Breseis: I told you he was a loon.

Agamemnon: O ye of little faith. Remember the puppet. The puppet!

Diomedes: If you'll excuse my saying so, there seems to be little left to do. If the sons of Atreus will agree, I move we close this meeting out of respect for the dead.

Menelaus and Agamemnon briefly confer.

Menelaus: Well said. Unless there's other business?

Agamemnon: Hmm. While we're all here, we have urgent matters to discuss. We have been given this night, tomorrow, and the next day in armistice to prepare for a siege. We should make the best use of our time. Let's draw up plans now.

Menelaus: Agamemnon, this is a day of mourning.

Agamemnon: What do you think the Trojans are doing at this very moment? They carry the defensive advantage; we're going to need an incredible plan to break through their armaments.

Diomedes: What are you suggesting?

Agamemnon: I suggest that we gather a squad of three or four of our brightest men to try and work on some tactics.

Ajax: Tactics?

Agamemnon: Yeah! Great idea, right? I can't believe all this war it's been just attack, attack, attack, someone's day of glory, attack, attack, attack. No one ever thought of using his brain!

Odysseus: Well—

Agamemnon: So now I want tactics. And I want these tactics to win.

Diomedes: When you put it that way!

Menelaus: Um, Agamemnon, I don't know if you really—

Agamemnon: Hush, you bumpkins! I won't hear a word against it. It'll win us the war, I promise you. The problem is that all of you think with a battle-axe mentality.

Diomedes: Who's going to be on the squad?

Agamemnon: Well, Odysseus, for one. I think that's obvious. Odysseus, do you have any suggestions?

Odysseus: One, but I don't know if you'd allow it.

Agamemnon: Tsh tsh! Speak and it shall be granted.

Odysseus: Breseis.

Agamemnon: I take that back.

Ajax: I don't know if you can do that.

Agamemnon: Oh, very well! Who else?

Odysseus: Actually, I want you.

Menelaus, softly: Are you sure that's a good idea?

Odysseus: I think I comprehend the full value of my actions.

Agamemnon: You really want me?

Odysseus: Yes. And... that's it. That should be quite sufficient.

Agamemnon: It's granted. Diomedes, you're in charge of the armies while I'm away, starting now.

Menelaus: I don't understand. I'm second in command. I'm your brother.

Agamemnon: Well, it will be a change then, won't it?

Menelaus: Of course. I shouldn't have-

Agamemnon: It's just that Diomedes here has a few more days of glory under his belt than the rest of us, hmm? Don't be upset about it, now.

Diomedes: Agamemnon--High King, I'm not used to command. Menelaus, take it. I don't know how.

Agamemnon: Oh, go ahead! I don't really care either way.

Menelaus: Very well, then. (Assuming an air of command) Tactics Squad, please start right away. We don't have time to waste. Diomedes, Nestor, Ajax, and Achilles: you're dismissed.

Achilles: You're the boss, for now.

Exeunt those dismissed.

Odysseus: Menelaus.

Menelaus turns.

Odysseus: Don't... don't feel badly. You're needed to command the troops.

Menelaus exits.

Agamemnon: Why did you choose me and not Menelaus?

Odysseus: You know you're not the brightest mind when it comes to certain things—the arts, the humanities, the sciences. But Agamemnon, of all the minds I've met, you have the most resplendent understanding of logistics and your own troops. You understand the soldier. What motivates him, what breathes courage into him... and evidently, what humiliates him.

Agamemnon: I'm sorry. All right? We've been snapping at each other all day. Don't tell me you didn't see him needling me all night. Oh, all right. I'll go apologize to him--later. Look, don't worry. He'll get over it. We're just acting like any two brothers from the House of Atreus.

Breseis: Let's get started.

Odysseus: Well advised. Let's brainstorm.

Breseis: Sounds dirty.

Odysseus: It means we take every idea without screening it. Let's think.

Agamemnon: Giant flying machines. With battering rams on the end that can break any door down.

Breseis: Poisoning their water supply.

Odysseus: Cavalry. What's conducive to cavalry...um, horses.

Agamemnon: Big fat horses!

Breseis: Pregnant ones.

Agamemnon: Pregnant?

Breseis: Yeah... with monsters!

Odysseus: Wait... wait a minute...

Agamemnon: You have something already?

Breseis: Got it! Let's build a horse!

Agamemnon: Everyone knows you don't build horses. Geez.

Breseis: No, a wooden horse. And we can put your troops inside it.

Agamemnon, warming to the idea: They'd have to be good troops. No matter how big we can build the horse, you're only going to get a handful of soldiers in an enclosed area to keep quiet—either they'd talk to each other, or their collective armour would jingle loud enough to give the horse away.

Odysseus: I'm missing something. So we have people in a mechanical horse. Then what?

Breseis: We give it as a present to the Trojans.

Agamemnon: And once they're within the gates, they wait until nightfall, climb out, and attack. (To Breseis) It's the waiting that worries me. You're going to have a strike force that's half asleep, half bored to restlessness.

Odysseus: So why a horse? Why not a box?

Breseis: Well, come to think of it, they'd be more likely to accept a horse.

Agamemnon: A box? Come on, that's too suspicious. Box, indeed! Who accepts an unmarked box from the enemy?

Breseis: Besides, the Trojans worship Poseidon, to whom the horse is sacred. We could convince them that the horse will bring them good luck.

Agamemnon: There's another problem. I wouldn't trust a Trojan coming up to me and saying, "This will bring you good luck! Take it, please!" Not if they said it straight out like that.

Breseis: Well, if we plead with them not to take it, maybe they'll get suspicious and will.

Odysseus: Reverse psychology. Somebody hand me a tablet! Here, the dimensions would have to be like so... no, here, base times height... let's see, now... we have three days... let me work this out. I'm an engineer, I can subtract nine from twenty-four...

Agamemnon: We're moving so quickly. One of my plans is working!

Breseis: Yeah, well, it was mostly my idea.

Agamemnon: The credit belongs to all of us. You... you have my apologies.

Breseis: Right. That's another notch on my belt.

Agamemnon: Watch it. I'm the King of Kings. When I apologize, you'd better accept it.

Breseis: Well, sir--

Odysseus: Got it. Here are the plans. (He holds up a blueprint of a horse) We can fit six soldiers inside. Any more than that and this horse would have to be large enough to arouse suspicion as a siege engine.

Agamemnon: Six... that should be enough to infiltrate the palace, take care of the guards—they'll be sleeping, and probably drunk, so it won't be a problem—and work their way out to open the gates for the rest of the army. In short, a small strike force can penetrate to the main reactor and cause a chain reaction leading to the explosion of Troy!

Odysseus: Well, I don't think combustion will be necessary. And I don't know if that qualifies as a chain reaction.

Breseis: Reactor?

Agamemnon: I was trying to be dramatic.

Breseis: So, who's on this strike force?

Agamemnon: Myself, obviously; Menelaus, Ajax, Diomedes, Odysseus... normally I would say Nestor, but he's too old for this kind of mission. However, he has a son named Antilochus who's capable enough.

Odysseus: So it works, commander?

Agamemnon: Make it so.