We'll Have To Work On Your Bunny

All Right, Cupcakes. You Are About To See The Grand Canyon. Try Not To Break It. The Skywalk Can Hold The Weight Of Seventy Jumbo Jets, To You Featherweights Should Be Safe Out There. If Possible, Try To Avoid Pushing Each Other Over The Edge, As That Would Cause Me Extra Paperwork.

Then There Was Nico Di Angelo. Dang, That Kid Gave Leo The Freaky-deakies. He Sat Back In His Leather Aviator Jacket, His Black T-shirt And Jeans, That Wicked Silver Skull Ring On His Finger, And The Stygian Sword At His Side. His Tufts Of Black Hair Struck Up In Curls Like Baby Bat Wings. His Eyes Were Sad And Kind Of Empty, As If He’d Stared Into The Depths Of Tartarus—which He Had.

Being Turned Into A Lizard Can Really Mess Up Your Day.

But Annabeth Knew That People Saw What They Wanted To See. They Didn’t Need The Mist To Warp Their Perceptions.

Liz Cleared Her Throat. "isn't There A More Polite Term We're Supposed To Use Nowadays? Like....little Person, Or Vertically Challenged,or-" "i'm Not Going To Call Myself The God Of Vertically Challenged People," Bes Grumbled. "i'm A Dwarf!