Hermes, the messenger god, got in early on Amazon and, I hear, couldn’t be happier about the drones. They might allow him to take a day off once in a while, what with being able to fork god messages onto their grippy claws ten at a time. Who cares if they don’t quite make it to the porch? Gods reward those who are willing to do the legwork. Gods are also willing to help people who are willing to search through their bushes, in their flowerpots, and under the patio table to receive the answers to their prayers.
When he has the time, he thinks his sneaker collection could use a good going-over. He imagines he’ll have garden trash bags full for giveaway. He could watch all-world sports on ten different TVs while giving his feet a paraffin treatment. And maybe, once he peeled the wax and callouses off, and after he took his as-seen-on-TV Ronco Miracle Curlers out, he could sext Aphrodite, persuade her to come over, and order in pizza and ambrosia cannoli to share while Romanian gymnastics blare from all ten TVs at once.