Apollo sat on his Olympian cloud and sighed. Mortals ceased looking up to him. What’s the meaning of life? He gave them everything; creativity, healing, and the sun. He had nothing more to offer.
Eris, the goddess of discord, flashed next to him.
“You’re a god, have some self respect. Punish them.”
Apollo scratched his chin. The muses would revolt if he denied them access to humans, they wouldn’t shut up for a thousand years… The other gods pissed, if he blocked the sun again… That left disease. The little apes evolved enough to cure any ailment when they put their minds to it. But his intelligence outranked theirs.
He created the incurable – foot-in-mouth disease.