Leo took out a pen and autographed the arm of one of the nymphs. “Narcissus is a loser! He’s so weak, he can’t bench-press a Kleenex. He’s so lame, when you look up lame on Wikipedia, it’s got a picture of Narcissus—only the picture’s so ugly, no one ever checks it out.

What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades's underwear?

Heroes like you always have a weak spot. We just have to find it, and then we can kill you. Won't that be lovely? Have a cheese 'n' Wiener!

With her braided hair and white dress, she seemed to glow in the moonlight.

I tried to think of something to say. Excuse me? Hello? Marry me? Anything would have done.

I gave her my deluxe I'll-Kill-You-Later stare.

I'm the son of Jupiter, I'm a child of Rome, consul to demigods, praetor of the First Legion. I slew the Trojan sea monster, I toppled the black throne of Kronos, and destroyed Titan Krios with my own hand. And now I'm going to destroy you Porphyrion, and feed you to your own wolves." "Wow, dude," Leo muttered, "You been eating red meat?