PV: Hello, may I speak to Cupid please?
C: Mortal, 'tis I, Eros, God of Love.
PV: The P.R. chick must have given me the wrong number. Sorry to bother you, uh, Eros.
C: Foolish mortal! I, Eros, and Cupid are one and the same! The Romans called me one thing and the Greeks the other. You know how that goes.
PV: Right, sorta like with P. Diddy/Puffy/whatever he calls himself these days. So just to make dead certain I'm talking to the right dude, you're the little flying naked baby that flies around and shoots people with arrows that make them fall in love with each other?
C: Ha, mortal! Sure, but that's only part of what I do. Did you know I also have dominion over the dead in Hades, the creatures of the sea and the gods in Olympus?
PV: Sure, I read that on Wikipedia, but "dominion" really just means you fly around shooting arrows at them, doesn't it?
C: Touche, mortal. But that's not all I do. Once I made love to Psyche, and who jepoardized our relationship by mistaking me for a serpent beast who planned on devouring her.
PV: Oh yeah, how did that end up?
C: Ah, mortal, the usual. My mother, Venus, commanded her to separate grains from a bag of rice as punishment, then tried to trap her in the underworld for all eternity. In the end she got out and we made up.
PV: Wow. So you and your mom had a kind of creepy relationship. You didn't happen to shoot her with an arrow, did you?
C: What exactly, mortal, are you implying?
PV: Uh, nothing. Let's just move on. So how exactly does this love arrow system work?
C: It's magic, mortal.
PV: Well, yeah, but can't you be more specific? Is it a mind-altering poison, or something scientific like pheromones, or are you just a metaphor for the unquantifiable concept of romantic attraction, which we humans attribute to being as flighty and random?
C: Well, mortal, I can tell you this much: It ain't the third one.
PV: Geez, man. This isn't going anywhere. And stop calling me "mortal." I know you're an invincible god and I'm easily vanquished flesh and bones, but there's no need to rub it in every time.
C: Please accept my sincere apology. I'll try and be more direct.
PV: OK, I can't stay mad at you, Cupid. After all, you've got an impressive body of work. Those arrows of yours... damn powerful. Like, you once made not one but two women actually fall in love with Hitler!
C: I do alright.
PV: Don't be so modest. I could go on and on. You got Julia Roberts to marry Lyle Lovett! And you even found a wife for Screech!
C: Cain't no one do what I do.
PV: I'll say. Those had to have been some tough marks.
C: I'm not gonna lie, some of my matchups are so crazy that they took intensive attention. I'm talking, four, five arrows at a time just to ignite the flame of passion.
PV: Sometimes you're kind of a dick, though. Like in elementary school when you always had me obsess over the hottest, smartest girl in the class. And then you kept it up throughout junior high. And high school. And even college. Women I knew I'd never have any kind of shot with. It was constant torture. How could you be so cruel?
C: Hey, I had to keep your standards high. You can't tell me it didn't end well. Look over there at that knockout wife of yours and your kid! If I had let you ever settle for less they wouldn't be there right now.
PV: You know, Cupid, you're right. I understand, and now that I think about it, it was definitely all worth it for the end result. Thanks for that. I bet it was pretty tough to get Jessica to fall in love with me, right? She's so beautiful, so intelligent, so wonderful.
C: No exaggeration: It was like taking down a rhino with a beebee gun.
PV: Well, could you, like, hit her with another one, another dose just to make sure it doesn't wear off?
C: I don't work that way, pal. I set things up, but it's up to the humans to keep it going. You've got to provide your own arrows, son.
PV: Like by writing this fake interview! Do you think all this will maybe get me out of buying flowers?
C: Don't count on it.