Zeus had a problem.

His queen Hera, his favourite daughter Athena and troublesome Aphrodite were fighting over an apple, that was supposed to be for the fairest of the goddesses.

There was no safe answer to the question which of them was most beautiful – and beautiful they were, all radiant in their own way.

"Everyone", he called out, "Who is willing to resolve this matter?"

Obviously no one was. The other Olympians just looked at each other awkwardly.

Alright, then he would just choose one.

His coal black eyes wandered over everyone, until they found the perfect victim, uh, god to choose.

"Ares, my heir, come forward", he requested.

The war god cringed, but obeyed.

"Now", Zeus spoke, "Award this apple to the one you think is the fairest."

Ares stared at him. "Okay, first off: Wow. You wanna make me choose between my mother, my girlfriend and the goddess who kicks my arse on a regular basis? Secondly …"

He looked around, thought for a moment and then, before anyone could do anything, yeeted the golden apple into a conveniently placed nearby marsh, where it plummeted into the bog at a high velocity.

Then Ares turned back to his father and the gaping contestants, looking as clueless and innocent, as someone like him could.

"… which apple do ya mean?"