A/N: Dedicated to my good friend DonnaWatson (going by screen name here), who said that if I did not post this story immediately she would bribe a friend of ours who doesn't have a screen name that I know of into telling her where I live, kill me in my sleep, apologize profusely, and then dance on my grave. You're something else :3. Without further ado, let me present…
P.S. The number of kids in Camp Half-Blood is a few hundred, right? I wasn't sure, but that's what I went with. Okay, I'm done now.
Those Damned Potatoes
By Hazel Daemon
A lump of mashed potatoes to the face woke Percy Jackson from a deep and comfortable sleep filled with dreams of a certain blonde. There are few more unpleasant ways to wake up.
As he spluttered indignantly and cleared gooey grey potatoes from his mouth and eyes, he caught a glimpse of Connor Stoll, son of Hermes, troublemaker, thief, and instigator of the notorious Flaming Dragon fruit incident, rushing from the cabin. From what Percy had been able to see, Connor had been covered in some mysterious lumpy substance perhaps best left unidentified, as well as laughing like the bloody Joker.
"What in Hades, Connor!" Percy yelled after him. His only response was a snicker and a distant cry of, "Potatoes!"
Now that Percy was awake, he could hear some rather unusual sounds from outside. Mainly loud screams, which meant that, A. Connor Stoll had done something quite spectacularly messy, or B. the harpies had got into the coffee and nectar again. Possibly both.
Percy clambered out of his blankets, put on his sneakers, and darted out the door, stopped just outside the doorway, and stared.
He did have good reasons for staring, and those reasons were the most massive food-fight, and the giant creature that appeared to be made entirely out of potatoes.
Shrieking and laughing demigods covered the hills in a sea of orange. Admittedly, that fact that they were coated in foods of various sorts made it rather hard to tell that it was orange that they were wearing, but that doesn't really matter and should likely not have been written.
Percy noticed that some of the Ares kids had made barricades, apparently led by Clarisse. Also, as previously noted, Lou Ellen of Hecate had constructed a gigantic monstrosity out of potatoes. She was riding its shoulders and apparently in fits of hysterical laughter, and appeared to be using it to stomp on people.
And there were potatoes everywhere!
Potatoes rolling underfoot, caked on buildings and on campers' hair and faces, growing out of the ground at astonishing speeds, and being used as missiles. It was as if there had been a potato Apocalypse.
As Percy stared, awestruck, at the almighty chaos, he was brought out of his reverie by a potato that struck the back of his head. Second time today, he thought ruefully as he turned to see the perpetrator, one Tiffany Macey of the Hermes cabin, and her friend Yassna, a child of Athena. Both were in roughly the same state as everyone else, that is to say, messy, high on adrenaline, and carrying large amounts of potatoes.
"Scottish potatoes, Percy!" Tiffany cried out, and aimed a potato. He neatly dodged it, picked it up, and hurled it back. Yassna narrowly avoided getting hit on her head, and threw a potato back. She had better aim then Percy.
"Game on!" He called back.
That was how the rest of the morning* was spent, dodging potatoes, attempting to knock Lou Ellen into the water, and generally enjoying themselves until Chiron and Dionysus finally emerged from the Big House to inform everyone that, while this had been highly amusing, it had now become annoying, and now it had to stop lest the entire camp get put on kitchen duty for thirty years.
Their moods were not improved by the fact that, at this threat, the entire camp** immediately scattered and could not be found until lunchtime.
Later, after some discreet bribes and rather nasty threats, this entire business was discovered to be the fault of the Stolls, Tiffany Macey, Pollux of Dionysus' cabin, and about half the Demeter cabin. For the next three months Yassna ate her meals in the kitchen so she could talk to her friend.
This event went down in the camp's history, and after many years of retelling the younger campers ended up under the impression that several dragons and three gigantic Furbies had attended the fight. Since everyone found this highly amusing no one sought to enlighten them.
And all was well at Camp Half-Blood, just as it should be.
Fin.
*Alas, the rest of the morning was spent cleaning up.
**With the exception of Lou Ellen, who had to be fished from the lake, dazed but happy.