“What did you do this time, Cupid?” A small boy with wings on his back flew over, landing on the soft clouds that cushioned his feet. He had hair the colour of sunshine and eyes that reached as deep as the sea. He was wearing a white toga and sandals that strapped perfectly around his feet like they were made just for him.

A light giggle rang in the sky, like the soft tinkling of silver bells. “Me? I didn’t do anything, Michael. You know me, I’d never do anything that’d get me in trouble,” came a cheeky response. It was from a chubby baby sitting comfortably on an adjacent cloud. His feet were dangling off the edge of the cloud and he swung them back and forth without a care in the world. On his face hung a childish grin that complemented the playful glint dancing in his eyes. He was dressed in the same attire as the boy and had wings on his back too. Compared to the young boy, this baby was of a much rounder frame. If he hugged his knees to his chest, he would really look like a perfectly shaped peach. But the most obvious difference between them was the bow and arrows strapped to the rotund baby’s back.

A faint scoff could be heard in response and rolling of eyes that seemed to be audible too. The young boy named Michael clearly knew it would be too good to be true if the baby hadn’t made a ruckus today. Heaven was basically Hell with Cupid around. If sinful souls thought being sent to Hell for the worldly sins they committed was sheer torture, having to dance around in Cupid’s palm would be even worse. Spending a day with Cupid would eat away at one’s lifespan and they’d be grateful for every little thing that happened in their lives, even the bad experiences they might’ve had in the past. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could compare to the tragedy Cupid brought to others.

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But to say Cupid was sheerly and utterly pure evil was an over exaggeration. Cupid merely fell on the scale of extreme mischievousness. He didn’t act with the intention to harm, but merely to satisfy his own cravings to play tricks. He found joy in other people’s momentary sufferings, a term loosely used because it was more of driving them round in circles and up the wall. Their annoyance was his satisfaction and joy, the nectar to quench his thirst. And the worst part was his actions were justifiable and permitted by the top brass. In fact, they were the ones who gave him his current role and free reign over his antics. He was the trickster, the jester, their lackey, and their naughtiest child. Even so, everyone highly valued the work he did, though sometimes he would take things one step too far.

“Well, if you really must know, I’ll tell you what happened. But before you get to hear my wonderful tales, what’s that on your head, Michael?” A larger grin curled up on Cupid’s face as he pointed at Michael’s head. The young boy frowned, unable to comprehend what Cupid was questioning him about. But that frown quickly turned to panic as he felt something cold on his head. A sinking feeling dawned on him and his sixth sense told him he shouldn’t touch whatever it was precisely because he couldn’t see it.

Michael waved his hand and a cloud appeared in front of him. Water droplets condensed to form a thin, shiny layer, reflecting Michael’s appearance within.

“CUPID!!! WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Michael roared, cheeks flushed red with anger. His golden locks were no longer golden, nor were they locks. Instead, a huge, slimy red octopus was wriggling and caressing his crown!