He slung off his backpack. He'd managed to grab a lot of supplies at the Napa Bargain Mart: a portable GPS, duct tape, lighter, superglue, water bottle, camping roll, a Comfy Panda Pillow Pet (as seen on TV), and a Swiss army knife—pretty much every tool a modern demigod could want.
Right,” I said. “So the baboon, the crocodile…any other pets I should know about?” Amos thought for a moment. “Visible ones? No, I think that’s it.
Far below I heard Cacus bellowing as millions, maybe even thousands of filthy gallons of water slammed into him. Meanwhile, Annabeth alternately shouted, gagged, hit me, called me endearing pet names like, "Idiot! Stupid - dirty - moron - " and topped it all off with, "Kill you!
They're not so bad. They just need some attention. ...Like pets. Or my brother.
Mrs. O' Leary is my pet. I couldn't let you stick a sword in her rump, now, could I? That might've scared her.
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