The Dead Aren't Scary. They Are Just

He'd Changed Since The Last Summer. Instead Of Bermuda Shorts And A T-shirt, He Wore A Button-down Shirt, Khaki Pants, And Leather Loafers. His Sandy Hair, Which Used To Be So Unruly, Was Now Clipped Short. He Look Like An Evil Male Model, Showing Off What The Fashionable College-age Villain Was Wearing To Harvard This Year.

Two Hundred Romans, And No One’s Got A Pen? Never Mind!" He Slung His M16 Onto His Back And Pulled Out A Hand Grenade. There Were Many Screaming Romans. Then The Hand Grenade Morphed Into A Ballpoint Pen, And Mars Began To Write. Frank Looked At Percy With Wide Eyes. He Mouthed: Can Your Sword Do Grenade Form? Percy Mouthed Back, No. Shut Up.

Different Elevator Music Was Playing Since My Last Visit-that Old Disco Song "stayin' Alive." A Terrifying Image Flashed Through My Mind Of Apollo In Bell-bottom Pants And A Slinky Silk Shirt.

I Missed Him So Much I Would Sometimes Turn To Tell Him Something Before I Forgot He Was Gone. In Spite Of All That, And All The Emotion Boiling Around Inside Me, All I Could Think Of To Say Was: “you’re Blue.

Humans Don't Exist On The Same Level As Immortals. They Can't Even Be Hurt By Our Weapons. But You,percy - You Are Part God,part Human.you Live In Both Worlds.you Can Be Harmed By Both,and You Can Affect Both. That's What Makes Heroes So Special.