I Should've Blown More Stuff Up." -coach

The Dead Are Hard To Look At. Their Faces Shimmer. They All Look Slightly Angry Or Confused. They Will Come Up To You And Speak, But Their Voices Sound Like Chatter, Like Bats Twittering. Once They Realize You Can't Understand Them, They Frown And Move Away. The Dead Aren't Scary. They're Just Sad.

Two Hundred Romans, And No One’s Got A Pen? Never Mind!" He Slung His M16 Onto His Back And Pulled Out A Hand Grenade. There Were Many Screaming Romans. Then The Hand Grenade Morphed Into A Ballpoint Pen, And Mars Began To Write. Frank Looked At Percy With Wide Eyes. He Mouthed: Can Your Sword Do Grenade Form? Percy Mouthed Back, No. Shut Up.

The Answer To Every Problem Involved Penguins

Butch Hesitated. "annabeth's Okay. You Gotta Cut Her Some Slack. She Had A Vision Telling Her To Come Here, To Find A Guy With One Shoe. That Was Supposed To Be The Answer To Her Problem." "what Problem?" Piper Asked. "she's Been Looking For One Of Our Campers, Who's Been Missing Three Days," Butch Said. "she's Going Out Of Her Mind With Worry. She Hoped He'd Be Here." "who?" Jason Asked. "her Boyfriend," Butch Said, "a Guy Named Percy Jackson.

Hermes's Shoulders Sagged. "they'll Try, Percy. Oh, We'll All Try To Keep Our Promise. And Maybe For A While Things Will Get Better. But We Gods Have Never Been Good At Keeping Oaths. You Were Born Because Of A Broken Promise, Eh? Eventually We'll Become Forgetful. We Always Do." "you Can Change." Hermes Laughed. "after Three Thousand Years, You Think The Gods Can Change Their Nature?" "yeah," I Said. "i Do.