The Chalice of the Gods (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, #6)

by Rick Riordan

“Are you kidding?” He grinned at Annabeth. “A chance to do quests, just the three of us? Like old times? The Three Musketeers!” “The Powerpuff Girls,” Annabeth suggested. “Shrek, Fiona, and Donkey,” I said. “Wait a minute,” Grover said. “I’m fine with this,” Annabeth said.

“Discreet is what we do,” said Grover, who had once blindly dive-bombed Medusa in a pair of flying shoes while screaming at the top of his lungs.

Based on my past experience, the last thing this world needed was more gods. My second thought was: Why do the gods keep losing their magic items? It was like a job requirement for them: 1) become a god, 2) get a cool magic thing, 3) lose it, 4) ask a demigod to find it.

“I couldn’t trust anyone else! You’ve already turned down immortality once, Percy Jackson.”

I am a guy of limited talents. If I can’t kill it with water, a sword, or sarcasm, I am basically defenseless. I come preloaded with sarcasm. The pen-sword is always in my pocket. Now I had access to water, so I was as prepared as I could ever be.

Demigods don’t use cell phones because they attract monsters. I’ve never quite understood why. It’s just so on-brand for our lives I’ve always accepted it, like, Of course they do. The quickest way to spot a demigod is to hand them a mobile phone. If they’re under the age of eighteen and have no idea what to do with it, they’re probably a demigod. When the monsters show up and eat them, you can be one hundred percent sure.

“Yeah,” I said. “But spaghetti is definitely off the menu this week.” “What?” Grover sounded hurt. He loves spaghetti.

Now I can make your lawn sprinklers explode on command. (I rent myself out for kids’ birthday parties. Call me.)

Because when somebody plays “YMCA,” it is almost always a cry for help.

That afternoon, I did something unusual. I visited the library. Yeah, I know. I could almost hear that turntable needle scratch in your head as you tried to process that idea. If I told you I fell into Tartarus again, or got swallowed by a giant, or had to go bungee jumping in a volcano, you’d be like, Yeah, that makes sense. But Percy visiting a library? That’s way off brand. Truth is, I have nothing against libraries. They’re nice quiet places to hang out in, and all the librarians I’ve met are cool people. It’s just that libraries are full of books. Being dyslexic, I tend to think of book as a synonym for migraine headache. Sometimes, though, books are the only place you can find information, so you have to risk the headache. This concludes my TED Talk on the importance of reading.

Let brunch chaos reign.

but pasta is like a best friend: you can’t stay mad at it forever.