![]() No, as we soon found out, Apollo had written, directed, produced, hosted, and starred in…a variety show.įor those of you who don’t know what a variety show is, imagine a talent show on steroids, complete with canned laughter, prerecorded applause, and an extra-large helping of hokeyness. ![]() It turned out the creative genius behind the movie was Will’s dad-the god Apollo, which meant this was not going to be a typical orientation flick. I figured the movie would be a typical orientation flick-a monotone voiceover a tour of the campgrounds happy demigods going about their business, trying to pretend the cameras didn’t exist. Connor and Harley had successfully set up the screen and projector without any killer-robot-exploding mishaps, which I appreciated. I think we should get some popcorn ready.”Īn hour later, we gathered in the amphitheater to watch Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. “This is my fault? What do you want me to do-stop them?” “Aww…” Harley scowled in disappointment, but he followed Connor to the Big House. “And you can’t make it do anything but show the movie. “A projectile! Yes!” Harley pumped his fist. “Want to come with? I might need help with the projector.” “We’ll see about that.” He turned to Harley, the oddly muscular eight-year-old son of Hephaestus. “Is it?” Connor laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. “Chiron’s office in the Big House,” Nico replied.Ĭonnor pushed back from the table and stood up.Īnnabeth Chase-my awesome girlfriend, a daughter of Athena-frowned suspiciously. “Where, exactly, did you see this cinematic masterpiece?” He leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You mean I just sang in public and…I’m the only one who’s ever seen that stupid film?” “You’ve all heard that annoying song, right? It’s from Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.” “More than usual,” Julia Feingold muttered under her breath. Finally he cleared his throat and sang in a warbly voice to the tune of “The Hokey Pokey”: “It lets the demigods in! It shuts the monsters out! It keeps the half-bloods safe, but turns mortals all about! It’s Misty, and it’s magic, and it makes me want to shout: the border is all about!” He punctuated the last line of the song with some halfhearted claps. “You know….” He glanced side to side, clearly uncomfortable with everybody watching him. “What orientation film?” Will Solace asked. “First thing I’d do is make sure the poor newbie demigods don’t have to suffer through the orientation film.”Īll conversation stopped. We were talking about what changes each of us would make if we ran the camp, and Nico said: We would have spent the evening in the usual way, too, with a campfire sing-along, if not for an offhand comment Nico di Angelo dropped at dinner. We went about our usual routines-combat practice, volleyball practice, archery practice, strawberry-picking practice (don’t ask), lava-wall-climbing practice….You’ll find we practice a lot here. This took a few minutes since he has one hundred eyes, but we got the message-be good, or else. Argus pointed two fingers at his eyes and then at us. “Don’t destroy Half-Blood while we’re gone,” was Chiron’s parting instruction. D (aka Dionysus, the god of wine), was MIA, so that left us demigods on our own. Maybe you’re a child of Hypnos and saw it in a dream.) Our camp director, Mr. It took him days to get his fur clean.) Anyway, Argus, our resident security guard and part-time chauffeur, drove Chiron on this mission because, well, can you imagine a centaur driving an SUV? (You can? Hmm. ![]() (The satyr had gotten himself into a sticky situation. Bet you know what that’s like.) What I’m supposed to do is explain the story behind this book.Ī few months ago, Chiron-he’s the immortal centaur who’s also our camp activities director-was called away to rescue two unclaimed demigods and their satyr guide. I’d say there’s a fifty-fifty chance of that happening.īut I’m getting off topic. Or maybe you’ve already arrived and are reading this with the hope that it’ll calm your nerves. So, demigod, chances are you’re making your way to camp with your satyr guide. You can thank the Mist for that choice of topic. To everyone else, this book is called The Complete History of Pavement and it’s about…well, that should be obvious. That’s because only demigods-and a few special mortals, like my mom and Rachel Elizabeth Dare-can read what’s actually written here. If you can read this, then surprise! You’re probably a demigod too. You might know me as the guy who helped save the world from total destruction-twice, but who’s counting? I like to think of myself as just another Greek demigod lucky enough to have found Camp Half-Blood. Haiku by Apollo introducing his orientation film Welcome to Camp Half-Blood ![]()
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