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446 pages, Kindle Edition
Published August 31, 2018
Sitting on the edge with his legs dangling down, Sporus felt sure he would be killed from the fall. He looked anxiously about hoping for a passer-by to cushion his landing, but there was no one about.
Gazing upwards he intoned, "Mercury, messenger for the gods, you have those lovely winged sandals. It would be wonderful, really wonderful if when I jump you could whizz over, catch me, and gently lower me to the earth. In return I swear to make you my favorite god and I will sacrifice twenty pigs, fifty goats, and pour you a river of wine. Honest. Promise...”
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pushed himself off the wall.
From the point of view of Pompeia and Teretia who were walking across the Palatine after accompanying Plulo to work, the boy dropped from the heavens with a thud and then a scream.
"Oh my word!" exclaimed Pompeia, gazing down at Sporus who was rolling on his back, clutching his leg and squealing.
She bent down and asked the somewhat superfluous question, “Are you hurt?"
"Mercury, you total bastard!"
Take the most outrageous drunken night you've ever had, and then throw in an ostrich-feathered girl, a million sesterces wager, and a naked chariot ride though the forum: that was Otho all over. He was the only man who could out-scandal Nero.