"You are okay?" he asked. "Not eaten by monsters?" "Not even a little bit." I showed him that I still had both arms and both legs, and Tyson clapped happily. "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!" I hoped he didn't mean all at the same time, but I told him absolutely, we'd have a lot of fun this summer.
I couldn't believe I'd come this far, lost Tyson, suffered through so much, only to fail - stopped by a big stupid monster in a baby-blue tuxedo kilt. Nobody was going to swat down my friends like that! I mean... nobody, not Nobody. Ah, you know what I mean.
Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general I. The armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead you breathren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new...um...what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?" "Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club. "Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found." "Hooray!
Powdered donuts," Tyson said earnestly. "I will look for powdered donuts in the wilderness." He headed outside and started calling, "Here, donuts!
Tyson, Frank is a descendant of Poseidon." "Brother!" Tyson crushed Frank in a hug. Percy stifled a laugh. "Actually he's more like a great-great-...Oh, never mind. Yeah, he's your brother." "Thanks." Frank mumbled through a mouthful of flannel.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tyson pounding the Earthborn into the ground like a game of whack-a-mole. Ella was fluttering above him, dodging missiles and calling out advice: "The groin. The Earthborn's groin is sensitive." SMASH! "Good. Yes. Tyson found its groin.
When I got across, I looked back and saw Tyson giving Grover a piggyback ride (or was it a goatyback ride?).
Tyson thought Annabeth was just about the coolest thing since peanut butter, and he SERIOUSLY loved peanut butter.
Tyson- "Cash? Like...green paper?" Percy- "Yeah." Tyson- "Like the kind in duffel bags?" Percy-"Yeah, but we lost those bags days a-g-g--." "Tyson! How did you--" Tyson- "Thought it was a feed bag for Rainbow. Found it floating in sea, but only paper inside. Sorry.
Tyson," I said "We're turning around!" Going the wrong way?" he asked. Always," I grumbled, but I steered the chariot towards the stands.
Percy: The Heka-what? Annabeth: The Hundred-Handed Ones. They called them that because... well, they had a hundred hands. They were the elder brothers of the Cyclopes. Tyson: Very powerful. Wonderful! As tall as the sky. So strong they can break mountains! Percy: Cool. Unless you're a mountain.
Yay!” Tyson went around the couches and gave everyone a big hug—even Octavian, who didn't look thrilled about 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.
Percy," my mom said. "I give you my blessing." "Be safe brother!" Tyson pleaded. "Enchiladas!" Grover said. I wasn't sure where that came from, but it didn't seem to help much.
There was Tyson moving into the Poseidon cabin, giggling to himself every fifteen seconds and saying, "Percy is my brother?" like he'd just won the lottery. Aw, Tyson," I'd say. "It's not that simple.
[Tyson] looked him over with that massive baby-brown eye. “You are not dead. I like it when you are not dead.” Ella fluttered to the ground and began preening her feathers. “Ella found a dog,” she announced. “A large dog. And a Cyclops.” Was she blushing? Before Percy could decide, his black mastiff pounced on him, knocking Percy to the ground and barking so loudly that even Arion backed up. “Hey, Mrs. O'Leary,” Percy said. “Yeah, I love you, too, girl. Good dog.” Hazel squeaked. “You have a hellhound named Mrs. O'Leary?” “Long story.
Tyson! Thank the gods, Annabeth is hurt!" "You thank the gods that she is hurt?" he asked, puzzled.
Is Tyson okay?" I asked. The question seemed to take my dad by surprise. He's fine. Doing much better than I expected. Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry. "You let him fight?" Stop changing the subject! You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed. "And Olympus might be saved." Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years. "Dad—" Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works. "I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?" Oh . . . yes. Good point.
Fish Ponies! I put them on the ceiling!" -Tyson
Whathat!" Tyson gasped. "Those are the stables for the pegasi," I replied, "You know, winged horses?" "Whasthat!" "Um... those are the toilets.
Okay," Annabeth said. "What exactly do you smell?" "Something bad," Tyson answered. "Great," Annabeth grumbled. "That clears it up.
I sat up in bed. "What did he say?" Tyson groaned, still half asleep. He was lying facedown on the couch, his feet so far over the edge they were in the bathroom. "The happy man said...bowling practice?" I hoped he was right, but then there was an urgent knock on the suite's interior door. Annabeth stuck her head in--her blonde hair in a rat's nest. "DISEMBOWLING practice?
Annabeth looked at me. " We have to get out of here." " You think I want to be in the girls' restroom?" " I mean the ship, Percy! We have to get off the ship." " Smells bad," Tyson agreed. " And dogs eat all the eggs. Annabeth is right. We must leave the restroom and the ship.
Ella, just stay here. Stay safe." "Safe," Ella repeated. "Ella likes being safe. Safety in numbers. Safety deposit boxes. Ella will go with Tyson." "What?" Percy said. "Oh... fine, whatever. Just don't get hurt. And Mrs. O'Leary—" "ROOOF." "How do you feel about pulling a chariot?
Tyson was still staring at Chiron in amazement. He whimpered like he wanted to pat Chiron's flank but was afraid to come closer. "Pony?
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