Die human, DIE!! Die nasty polluting person!!!!' yelled Grover. I turned him so he faced me. He kept on clicking his plastic gun towards me as if I was part of the game.

You both passed out,” Percy said. “I don’t know why, but Ella told me not to worry about it. She said you were…sharing?” “Sharing,” Ella agreed. She crouched in the stern, preening her wing feathers with her teeth, which didn’t look like a very effective form of personal hygiene. She spit out some red fluff. “Sharing is good. No more blackouts. Biggest American blackout, August 14, 2003. Hazel shared. No more blackouts.” Percy scratched his head. “Yeah…we’ve been having conversations like that all night. I still don’t know what she’s talking about.

Our problems started in Dallas, when the fire-breathing sheep destroyed the King Tut exhibit.

It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

And please God, grant me the wisdom to remember that I am writing for children, not golden stickers.

That's great. Except for the fact that it's completely unimportant.

Let me get this straight. Your table ran away because you polished it with Windex?