Don't Underestimate Camp Half-blood.

Oh, Don't Mind Me! Just The Queen Of The Heavens, Dying Over Here!

I Don't Care What Your Nose Says! The Last Time You Smelled Half-blood, It Turned Out To Be A Meatloaf Sandwich!" "meatloaf Sandwiches Are Good! But This Is A Half-blood Scent, I Swear. They Are On Board!" "bah, Your Brain Isn't On Board!

Your Uncle," Poseidon Sighed, "has Always Had A Flair For Dramatic Exits. I Think He Would've Done Well As The God Of Theater.

Apollo?” I Guessed… He Put A Finger To His Lips. “i’m Incognito. Call Me Fred.” A God Named Fred?

I Prayed The Monsters Would Give Up. Or That Perhaps Philip Of Macedonia Would Climb Back To The Terrace (do Crocodiles Climb?) And Renew The Fight.