It was a normal day in Mrs. Greenville's kindergarten class. About twenty-five or so five and six year olds were sitting at tables of four around the room, coloring, working on addition problems, learning to read, or practicing writing their names. Occasionally an argument would break out, but it was usually something unimportant, such as who stole whose purple crayon, who took whose seat, and so on and so forth, and Mrs. Greenville was always able to quiet it down.

But all that was about to change.

Percy Jackson and Annabeth chase were sitting at a table in the back. Annabeth, as you would expect, had finished her math worksheet within thirty seconds, understood art better than most adults, had a vocabulary of more than seven hundred words, and had read The Three Musketeers in two days. So, obviously, she had nothing much to do in a class meant for people who literally could not put two and two together.

Her eyes wandered around the room, looking for something, anything, that might entertain her, if only for a few minutes. She spotted Percy working on his math and decided to have fun annoying him by spotting and pointing out his mistakes in front of the whole class. She found one almost immediately, and started drawing attention to herself by laughing as hard as she could. Percy looked bewildered for a moment, before realizing that she was laughing at him.

Percy glared at her for a moment, hoping she would stop. Finally, he had to ask. "What are you laughing about?" he asked. Annabeth finally managed to stop laughing and said, "three plus four is not five, stupid." She resumed laughing.

At once, Percy started to cry. "Teacher, Annabeth called me a bad word," he wailed at the top of his lungs.

The teacher knew that nothing good was going to come out of this situation, and in a perfect world, she would have chosen to ignore it, but by now, the whole class was staring at Percy and Annabeth, so she was obligated to do something.

Mrs. Greenville walked over to the table and said, "Now, what seems to be the problem here?"

"Annabeth called me a bad word. She called me stupid," he said, sniffling.

This type of argument was common among kindergarteners, and for most people, a little talking to and a promise not to do it again would have solved the problem. But obviously, Percy and Annabeth were demigods. And demigods were not "most people." Mrs. Greenville didn't know they were demigods, of course, but these two were known to cause riots.

"Well, he is stupid. He thought three plus four is five," Annabeth said matter-of-factly.

Mrs. Greenville took her glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose. I need an aspirin, she thought. But she had to say something. "Now, kids-" she started, but a full blown argument was already starting to take place, and she could not get either of them to quiet down.

"Well, you think you're just a genius, don't you?" Percy shouted.

"Well, I am," Annabeth shot back.

"Am not!"

"Am too!"

"Am not!"

"Am too!"

"Am not!"

"Well, I'm smarter than you, that's for sure!"

"Liar, liar, pants on fire!"

Annabeth smirked. "Well, I bet you don't know the quadratic formula!"

Percy's angry face was replaced by one of bewilderment. "What's that?"

Annabeth's face was smug beyond belief. "X equals negative B plus or minus square root of B squared minus four AC, all over two A."

Percy stared at her for a minute, before saying, "You're just making that up."

"No, I'm not," said Annabeth. "You're just too dumb to know that."

"Look, teacher!" Percy said. "She just said another bad word!"

Now, I'm not going to describe in detail the events that followed. But I will tell you that it involved children screaming and running everywhere, teachers trying to bring order back, an accidentally pulled fire alarm, several great-horned owl attacks, a mini tsunami, and a 911 call by another teacher because of all the screaming.

By the time school was dismissed, Percy's and Annabeth's parents owed the school several thousand dollars for seven smashed chairs, five demolished desks, three shattered windows, eight ripped textbooks, a dented roof, and a broken chalkboard. They also owed apologies to the fire department, the police department, and the parents of twenty-five traumatized little kids.

Patty Greenville retired at age thirty five within a week and moved several hundred miles across the country.