The Secret Diary of Kratos, Part 2: Inside My Grammy’s Boobs

Previously, in the secret diary of Kratos: Kratos saved the titans from the great war to fight Zeus, who – to be honest - has been kind of a dick, lately. Kratos and the titans managed to make their way through much of Olympus, but Poseidon made like Olympics diver He Chong and killed many of titans. Kratos, suddenly in need of cover, finds himself in a strange place.

There comes a point in every great warrior’s life when he asks himself – as I’m sure Achilles, Thor, and Lancelot have asked themselves – “what the hell am I doing in my grandmother’s boobs.”

I recently had to deal with this question after a brief encounter with my uncle, Poseidon, god of the sea. He used to be a nice guy and all, but lately he’s been all thunder, floods, and sea horses. Sea horses, for Pete’s sake. I mean, the guy has the entire fracking sea under his control, and he conjures sea horses for a living. Olymp-tard.

Anyway, the whole ruckus started when they named a movie after him. Or, well, after they named a ship after him, and the ship got a movie. “Now that I’m a movie star,” he’d started uttering, annoying the living crap out of us. He started asking us to refer to him as El-Posso-Loco. And then Percy Jackson got a movie deal, which everyone in Olympus thought was kind of stupid, including the Harpies, which technically have no working brains.

Anyway, I have got to get myself out of Gaia’s boobs and stop El-Posso outside from taking out too many of the titans. That, and this whole boobs situation is getting too Oedipus on steroids for me. After moving around some titan cell walls, poking through Gaia’s innards, and generally touching stuff I’d rather not recall, I got some much needed air, emerging from the boobies.

But then Uncle Poss started steering again. That dude is one stubborn fella. He’s all sea horse here and lightning there, and I find myself doin some fracking some Numa-Numa dance moves to dodge. Elijah Wood would be proud. Finally, I hurt him enough so grammy can punch him, and he got separated from the sea horses.

Now, I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the stupid nicknames. Maybe it was that disaster flick. I started pummeling his head through the wall and I couldn’t stop, and when he started to utter something I remember myself saying “Here’s what I think of Percy Jackson, El-Posso.” And then I gouged his eyes and snapped his neck. Oedipus would be proud.

Anyway, with El-Posso-Loco no longer a threat, Gaia and I confronted daddy.

“Death could not hold me. The sisters of fate could not control me,” I uttered, summing up the past two games, just in case he’d forgotten. I mean, the dude is fracking old. He’s all beardy, which uncle Poss used to laugh at because El-Posso shapeshifts into Coolio regularly.

Anyway, daddy may be old, but damn, that guy can move. Before Gaia and I could react, Zeus hurled a giant lightning bolt at us. In case you’ve never been hit by a giant lightning bolt, lemme tell you, it hurts. Gaia and I fell, and I asked grammy to lend me a hand.

She thought I was on one of my wordplay things because her hand was literally about to fall off, so she ignored me and went all emo about how this is her war. I hate you Gaia. For the whole boob experience, for not appreciating good word juxtaposition, but mostly for letting me fall off Olympus, and being all speech-ey about it.

I fell about 345,987,568 stories, and when I came to, I was reminded that…

Next in the Secret Diary of Kratos: It Fracking Stinks in Hell