A/N: I think everyone has a song they absolutely hate and would love to smash the radio for playing it. Of course, no one would really do that...except for Clarisse :) Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the Wavish 5000!

Clarisse needed a new radio. She'd broken her old one by smashing it against the wall. Hey, if you'd heard the Barbie song, you would have done that too. Or maybe not. Perhaps only a kid of Ares would actually break the radio instead of just pantomiming it.

Anyway, Clarisse headed into the first electronic store she came to and made her way to the radio section. A guy with messy brown hair glanced up at her. "How may I help you?"

"Uh, I need a new radio." Clarisse began scanning the shelves.

"Well, can I guide your attention to our latest model?" The employee steered her to a shiny black radio with hundreds of dials and switches. "The Wavish 5000, complete with AM, FM, and a dozen other channels from thirteen different countries; it also tells time, has a built-in alarm, recites Beowulf in fifteen minutes, and can dance to any beat you tell it to."

"Gee, does it cook and do laundry too?" Clarisse joked.

"Of course not," the guy looked at her like she was crazy. "That would be silly."

Clarisse raised her eyebrows, but continued to follow the man down the aisle. The Barbie song had, of course, gotten stuck in her head.

"I love you Ken," Clarisse unwittingly sang along with the song. Oh shoot, she realized. Did I say that out loud?

A quick glance at her guide confirmed it. In fact, he was staring at her more oddly than she would have expected. Clarisse glanced at his name tag.

Oh crap. His name is Ken.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing. Keep going." Clarisse glanced around at the different assortment of radios busily.

Finally, Clarisse chose an ordinary radio that looked a lot like her old one. She bought it and headed home, Ken still looking at her in bewilderment.

Back in her room, Clarisse plugged her new purchase in and sighed as her favorite station came on. She listened blissfully for a few minutes before the commercials started.

There it was—the dreaded song. Clarisse's fingers twitched, but she resisted the urge to throw the radio at the wall again. There was already a big dent in it, and some paint had flaked off; her mom wasn't too happy about that. She'd just finished brushing the broken shards off the floor; some were still embedded in the wall like throwing darts.

But after the commercial was over, the same song came on again. Clarisse was twitching all over. Was the station trying to make her break her brand new radio—a second time?

This time, the song didn't end quickly. It seemed to drag on and on. Clarisse swore it played two times slower. When the song was halfway through, Clarisse's face was beaded with sweat and red from the exertion of keeping her violent self in check.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. Clarisse grabbed her spear and stabbed it through the radio. It exploded from the electrical charge and shattered into hundreds of pieces with a loud boom.

Clarisse's mom hurried upstairs, took one look at her daughter standing triumphantly over the radio's remains, and struggled not to pummel the doorframe in frustration.

Seeing this, Clarisse managed a weak grin. "Hey, at least I didn't throw it this time, right?"

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