Theseus crept ever closer to the center of the labyrinth, sword in hand, ball of thread in the other. He looked back to make sure the string was still there. His breathing was slow and deep. He had to be ready for whatever fiend awaited him past that last archway. . .

He stepped through. The Minotaur stared back at him, dead center in the labyrinth, eyes blood-red and horns curled straight at Theseus’s chest.

~

The Minotaur eyed the newcomer with welcoming eyes.

“Hello,” he said cheerily. “Tea?”

The Minotaur looked at the man’s odd expression.

“Erm…aren’t you the Minotaur?”

“Well of course!”

“What are you doing? Where are the bones of your sacrifices?”

“What sacrifices?”

“Well, the ones that Minos sends you every year!”

“Oh, them. They were sacrifices? They were quite nice, really. Gave them a spot of tea and this one boy, nice lad—”

“Yes, yes. All right. Did they escape?”

“No, I showed them out.”

“So…I had come here to slay you.”

“Really? Hm. Tea?”