Percy was getting tired of water.
If he said that aloud, he would probably get kicked out of Poseidon’s Junior Sea Scouts, but he didn’t care.

Down in the water, Octavian yelled, “Get me out of here! I’ll kill you!”
“Tempting,” Percy called down.

The meeting was like a war council with donuts. Then again, back at Camp Half-Blood they used to have their most serious discussions around the Ping-Pong table in the rec room with crackers and Cheez Whiz, so Percy felt right at home.

Percy blinked. “So your brother is a winged horse. But you’re also my half brother, which means all the flying horses in the world are my…You know what? Lets’ forget it.

He’d learned years ago it was better not to dwell too much on who was related to whom on the godly side of things. After Tyson the Cyclops adopted him as a brother, Percy decided that that was about as far as he wanted to extend the family.

Forget the chicken-nugget smoke screen. Percy wanted Leo to invent an anti-dream hat.