As he fell toward the highway, a horrible scenario flashed through his mind: his body smashing against an SUV's windshield, some annoyed commuter trying to push him off with the wipers. "Stupid 16-year-old kid falling from the sky! I'm late!

You mean a bad heel?" I said. "Couldn't I just, like, wear something besides sandals? No offense." -Percy

A Half-Blood of the eldest gods, Shall reach sixteen against all odds And see the world in endless sleep The Hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap A single choice shall end his days Olympus to preserve or raze.

It's like I was connected to the plumping system.

Enemy giants moved towards the breech, and Tyson picked up the fallen warrior’s club. He yelled something to his fellow blacksmiths – probably ‘FOR POSEIDON!’ – but with his mouth full of peanut butter it sounded like, ‘PUH PTEH BUN.’ His brethren all grabbed hammers and chisels, yelled, ‘PEANUT BUTTER!’ and charged behind Tyson into battle.

I want some time without you organic life forms.

He looked like those paintings of baby angels - what do you call them, hubbubs? No cherubs. That's it. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park.