Ever come home and found your room messed up? Like some helpful person (hi, Mom) has tried to "clean" it, and suddenly you can't find anything? And even if nothing is missing, you get that creepy feeling like somebody's been looking through your private stuff and dusting everything with lemon furniture polish?

Chaos is impatient. It's random. And above all it's selfish. It tears down everything just for the sake of change, feeding on itself in constant hunger. But Chaos can also be appealing. It tempts you to believe that nothing matters except what you want.

But if she'd realized that nine desiccated zombie nymphs would be waiting for her, she never would have come down here.

Whasthat!" "Um ... those are the toilets.

And when demigods use cell phones, the signals agitate every monster within a hundred miles. It's like sending up a flare: Here I am! Please rearrange my face!

I accidentally vaporize my pre-algebra teacher

Makes us appreciate blessing, not be greedy and mean and fat like Polyphemus.