Write An Alternate Ending To The Odyssey

Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, then days, then months, and then years, but yet the immortal fool, Odysseus, has not yet returned to reclaim his throne and his title “The King of Ithaca.”. This savage was too greedy. He left his home, his wife, and his beloved son and I knew I had to do something about it...

As I was on top of a steep cliff, I gazed upon the city of Ithaca as if I were an eagle hunting for its prey, perspicaciously looking to see if Odysseus would return. Like usual, the answer contained some form of negative association and I ended up cantankerously murmuring to myself:

“The beautiful city, Ithaca, is going to be mine anytime soon and no one, and I mean NO ONE, will stop me… no suitor, no god, not even

“This bow was made with precise, elaborate craftsmanship from the gods themselves. Zeus and Athena enchanted this bow, right before the Battle of Troy, so particularly two brave souls could string it properly, Odysseus, my husband, and you, Antinous.”

“Penelope, may you go to the Court Palm and announce this contest to everyone.” I demanded.

“Yes Antinous, I will…”

“My fellow elders, men, and especially great suitors, if you have not heard by now, my husband, Odysseus the ‘Great’, was tragically shot down during the Trojan War. His body was burnt side-by-side of Achilles and I have been recently informed about this tragedy. Due to this, I had decided to set up a challenge. The first man who could string Odysseus’ bow will be my beloved husband and ruler of Ithaca! The mission of this task shall be announced in my palace at this moment,” Penelope declared.

After the announcements, everyone started swarming into my palace, with people of different ages, shapes, and size. Just then, I noticed a familiar face in the crowd--Telemachus. He was back from his journey from Sparta, but this time he was accompanied by an old, feeble beggar.

“Ridiculous,” I chuckled to myself, “Why would Telemachus go all the way to Sparta and bring back a beggar, whenich his first intuition was to find his

Alas Odysseus’ bow is strung with more of the brain than the brawn,” the old beggar exclaimed.

“HAHAHAHA,” the crowd laughed.

“Laugh all you want…,” demanded the old beggar., “Iit is I who will have the last laugh.”

The old beggar grabbed the bow as if he was familiar with the orientation and adjustments. He forcefully tugged the bow string and placed the knotted string over the bow’s glowing tip. Grabbing the other end of the string and pulling it back one hundred and eighty degrees, he snapped the string to the south end of the bow. He was the one who finally completed the onerous task!

The entire crowd’s mouths dropped as if a god had appeared right in front of them, and even Penelope was astonished.

“But how!!!” I exclaimed “Only two men could have been able to string Odysseus’ mighty bow: I myself and … Odysseus…”

The old beggar stripped off his rags finally revealing his true self: a muscular man with the intention and capability to fight anything or anyone head-on. All chaos broke loose. It was the suitors against the Great Odysseus. Odysseus was rapid firing his arrows into all the suitors such as the speed of Zeus throwing his lighting