Well, here I am, trying to find out 'bout them Harpy things me teacher Mr. Barrow ask me to resurche. So's I ask me parents.
"Mrs. Jones down at the massage parlor is a real harpy," so me da' said. "Specially when I din't hand over me 20 dollars."
But then me mam says to him, "You wouldn't know a real harpy from a dead brick, an' I'll be a chopping that off if'n you go visit there again."
So, there it is. Neither me mam or da' could tell me what this Harpy thing is, so's I get meself down to Sophie who works at the library an' her books. An' this 'ere is a summry of what them book things of hers sez.
Harpies - A Summry by Arthur Noggin
A long time ago, like it were even before granda’ fell from t’ big oak in Hillsborough and broke ‘is leg. There was dis guy. ‘Is name was Typhon, you know, sounds like one of them big winds they gets in America. Anyways, this hunking guy had like a hundred snakes heads, black slithry tongues and eyes flashin’ like fire. Heh, sounds a lot like me da’ after he’s been drinking.
Seems Typhon (probably drunk like da’) manages to knock up this bird, who goes by the name of Echidna. Like, she must have been drunk too to hitch up wi’ this Typhon guy. Anyhows, Echidna, she’s a half-gorgeous babe down t’ waist, then one humongous snake below it, gets knocked up with his triplit’s. I guess when your guy’s got so many heads it kinda happens like that.
So these triplits are born—well, hatched mebbe, seeings the mom is a snake. And whaddawe get. Three scrumptulicious babes, with the body, wings an’ claws of birds. I mean, I ain’t never seen no birds with nekkid breasts before. Well, unlessn’ you include Sophie’s.
*Ow, whaddya go hit me for?*
*Okay, I’s said I’s sorry. Geesh.*
So, Harpies you see have like a women's head and breasts, and the rest of ‘em are birds. ‘Cept they’re big birds, yeah. Used t’ be Death Spirits ‘cos they was big enough to pick up the stiffs and cart them off to hell, or whatever. Didn’t seem too bad t’ me, being picked up by these nekkid birds when you die.
Must have bin good looking birds too ‘cos, old Zephyros, them Greek’s answer to Mr. Ed, had nagged one of them ‘till he’d knocked her up. Zephyros, just like a dumb, talking horse, galloped back home to some Achilles fella. Harpies one, two and three sat there and watched ‘im go while one of ‘em was stuck with a bun in the oven. I know me da’ woulda bin after ‘im with his gun had anyone done that t' sis. Typhon sux.
Whatever. Anyways one of ‘em soon gave birth to (hatched?) the West Wind, though I reckon mam was feeding ‘em too much beans which caused it. That’s when them Harpies sorta grew old and ugly and everyone called ‘em Wind Spirits now. Which don’t surprise me none ‘cos those beans of mam’s did give you wind somet’ing fierce and ugly.
Being’s as they was now ugly old women, and birds, all they was s’pposed to do was kidnap people, and torment an’ torture ‘em.
Zeus, some guy with a tazer rod, ordered ‘em to take this king dude to their island of Strophades. When they’d gotten Phineas all set up for supper they'd flutter down, snatch the food from his hands, and poop all over his dinner. Sounds like Cindy May from 12th grade. She’s always punching me round and snatching me dinner. Ain’t seen her poop on anything yet, but I bet she does.
Phineas, the wimp, jus’ let ‘em do it and sat there starving till this hero guy, Jason, came by. Just popping in on the neighbors, like. Jason, like me, was smart and inteligunt, an’ set this trap catching the old birds. Then the Harpies’ big sis Iris comes calling out of nowhere and begs this Jason dude to release her little sis’es.
Now, Jason, he’s like, got a soft heart and wants to please the bodacious babe. “But look,” he sez. “That wimpy Phineas is like starving. Can’t you keep your sis’es away from him?”
And Iris, being of soft heart too, and like, knows it’s good for smart guys to look at big boobs—
*Ouch! Whaddya go hit me again for?*
Well, Iris, she sez, “Let them go an’ I promise they’ll never poop in Phineas’ grub again.”
So like, Jason, who’s in love with big boobs, believes her; an’ Iris who’s in love with smart guys who love her big boobs, sends some winged puppies after her sis to keep them away. Zeus’s hunting mutts, they were, go baying after the birds ‘cos, hey, why should Jason get a bird an’ not them.
Iris, she kinda got a little bit busy and forgot the puppies for a while. She finally remembered and called the Boread’s back (that's what this Zeus guy called his puppies). The puppies were a little mucky from all that blood an’ stuff, an’, well, one of her sis had died. We din’t ever find out which, though, since they was all pretty messed up an’ we din’t know how to tell who taken the turkey dive, and none of them could talk seeing's as all they had were beaks now.
Dang Boreassed puppies were tough. Them Harpy feathers was like steel 'cept it din't go rusty, nasty stuff.
Anyway here’s the names of them Harpies, Mr. Barrow, if’n you ever figure out which one we need t’ put the marker up for, I knows Miss Iris would 'preciate it
There was Aello, which meant Storm Swift cos I guess she was swift like a storm, not that one from last September though, that hung around for days. Celaeno, The Dark or they did call her Podarge sometimes, The Swift. Probably thought she was evil ‘cos she cussed out the Trojans good, one time. An’ the third sis was Ocypete, The Swift Wing, who weren't quite swift enough against the Boread's.
Oh, an’ I lied about Jason and Iris doing the thing. They's really din't have anything steady going, but Sophie sez every good myth has to have a love story so she made me add it.
Well, Mr. Barrow, I kinda gotta go now. Sophie said she’s got this itch I gotta scratch, and we gotta go to this closet she knows that no one uses to scratch it. I told her like, I could scratch it here, would be my right pleasure to do so, but she sez I need this special tool that we’ll only find up the closet.
Girl's eh, guess I'll never ken them.