I Don't Think About Being Famous, Really.

Yay!' He Said. 'now We Can Eat Peanut Butter Sandwiches And Ride Fish Ponies! We Can Fight Monsters And See Annabeth And Make Things Go Boom!

"yeah, Flattering." Percy Raised Riptide. "but Actually I'm The Son Of Poseidon. I'm From Camp Half-blood."

Desjardins Was Literally Fuming. His Tattered Robes Still Smoked From Battle. (carter Says I Shouldn’t Mention That His Pink Boxer Shorts Were Showing, But They Were!)

I Headed Towards The Mountain, Which Was An Almost Irresistible Beacon To My Storm Self. It Glowed With Heat, Pressure, And Turbulence—everything A Little Dust Devil Like Me Could Want.

Some Risks Are Worth Taking, Even If It Means Losing A Life.