Installment One: Bread, Circuses, and Soundbites
In the grand and crumbling halls of the Roman Senate, chaos reigned. Not because the city was on fire (again) or because General Titus Brutus was marching toward the gates. No, the crisis today was far more pressing: deciding whether to add a sixth feast day to the calendar to honor Venus’s favorite pet goat.
“The people demand celebration!” bellowed Senator Maximus Glutus, his toga stretched tighter than the Empire’s budget. “A feast day for the goat will show our devotion to the gods and keep the people’s spirits high.”
Lucius Quintus, the Senate’s youngest member and the only one not visibly sweating, blinked in disbelief. “Is this really the most urgent issue we have? What about the grain riots? The aqueduct collapse? The fact that Brutus is, you know… marching on Rome?”
The senators gasped. One clutched his chest. Another muttered, “Marching on Rome? How terribly gauche.”
Poppaea’s Banquet of Truth
Meanwhile, across town, Poppaea Satyra was hosting one of her famous banquets, where Rome’s elite came to gossip, gorge, and occasionally choke on her scathing wit. Tonight, she had decided to perform a reenactment of the Senate’s latest debate.
Draped in an oversized toga, she mimicked Glutus’s booming voice. “Let’s forget about riots and spend more money we don’t have! The people want bread and circuses, not answers!”
The crowd roared with laughter, wine spilling from their goblets. Even Lucius, who had reluctantly accepted her invitation, couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You think this is funny?” he asked Poppaea after her performance. “The Republic is falling apart.”
“Of course it’s funny,” she replied, twirling a grape between her fingers. “When the ship is sinking, you might as well enjoy the wine.”
Back in the Senate: Bread, Circuses, and Goats
By the time Lucius returned to the Senate, the debate had reached new levels of absurdity. Glutus was now suggesting that the goat feast include a chariot race.
“The people love chariots!” he proclaimed. “And if they can afford it, we’ll just raise taxes on the provinces. They barely notice anyway!”
Lucius buried his face in his hands. “They’re literally rioting because they can’t afford bread.”
Glutus waved him off. “Bread, schmed. Give them a good race and they’ll forget all about it. Throw in a gladiator fight, and they might even stop noticing the smell of the Tiber.”
Breaking News: Brutus on the Move
The Senate was interrupted by a breathless messenger who burst into the chamber, panting so hard he looked like he’d run the length of the Empire.
“News!” he wheezed. “General Titus Brutus is approaching Rome! He’s declared himself the Defender of the People and says he’s coming to restore order.”
The room erupted into pandemonium.
“Defender of the People?” one senator exclaimed. “That’s my title!”
“What does he mean by ‘restore order’?” another asked nervously. “Do we have order to restore?”
Glutus, ever the opportunist, clapped his hands together. “I propose we invite him to a grand feast! Nothing says ‘unity’ like overeating.”
Lucius shot to his feet. “You want to throw a party for the man trying to overthrow the Republic?”
“Of course!” Glutus said, grinning. “And if he wins, I’ll tell him I supported him the whole time.”
The Spin Room: Poppaea’s Take
By evening, word of the Senate’s plan had reached Poppaea, who wasted no time turning it into material for her next performance.
Standing atop a makeshift stage, she addressed a packed room. “So Brutus marches on Rome, and what does the Senate do? Do they fortify the walls? Raise an army? No! They’re planning a goat feast and a gladiator match!”
The crowd howled. One patron shouted, “Maybe Brutus can run the chariot race!”
Poppaea smirked. “Why not? At this rate, he’ll probably win the grand prize—Rome itself.”
To Be Continued…
As Rome teeters on the edge of collapse, will Lucius find a way to restore sanity to the Senate? Will Poppaea’s biting humor inspire change—or just more wine spills? And will Glutus ever stop eating?
Find out in the next installment of The Senate Circus!
