Charon Gets with the Times by Ronald Larsen

"Hey, Hermes, what brings you to Hades?"

"Hello Charon. This isn’t a social call. The Gods have been hearing about changes here. They’re not happy about changes in tradition and sent me to investigate."

“Yes, yes, some necessary changes have been made. I decided to get with the times.”

"I see you’ve changed your garb. Why the orange speedo?"

"I'd been wearing the same old ragged black things for several thousand years and finally decided to go with something new and modern. Like I said, things are changing here in the Underworld, and a ferryman has to keep up."

"Changing how? I haven't been here for a millennium. What's going on?"

"For one thing, the demons in Hades have unionized and are pushing for better working conditions. They've gotten rather rowdy about it. I'm technically not a demon, but they've included me in the union.”

“OK, but we’ve heard highly disturbing rumors that you’ve stopped running your soul ferrying business.”

“Not at all. I’m still in business, just had to adapt. Look at the River Styx. When I got started in the soul ferrying business, it was the wide, deep boundary between the world of the living and the Underworld. The only way for souls to cross over was in my ferry boat, but global warming has affected that."

“How?”

"The Styx still is the boundary, but now it's only a pitiful little stream a few meters wide and only a few centimeters deep. It's gotten so shallow in most spots that my ferry boat was getting grounded most of the time."

"So now what?"

"Now I sit here under my umbrella, drink beer and tell the dead to walk across the river. 'Course I still need to collect the coins that they have in their mouths to let them pass. But that's changed with the times too. In ancient days the fee was one obol, but those coins are long gone. I get various small coins now—pennies, Euro cents, centavos, Yen, and sometimes a little silver. I also collect a lot of odd stuff—jewelry, gold teeth, you name it. Occasionally somebody comes along who's been buried with a flask of whisky in his pocket. That makes a decent payment."

"If your ferry boat can’t make it across the Styx, I guess the Gods can’t argue with that.”

“Nope.”

“You've been doing this for a few thousand years. Pardon the expression, but you must have a hell of a stash by now. Do you still need the money?"

"Yeah man, there’s union dues, got to pay for the beer, plus the demons charge an arm and a leg for delivery. With the water shortage and inflation, living (if you'll pardon the term) has gotten way expensive lately."