Hello all! This is my first time writing for Percy Jackson. It's also my first time writing in a more humorous light, if you will. So, bear with me. I'm still feeling my way. :) Reviews are appreciated.
Disclaimer: don't own 'em.
Let me just say, up front, this all started as a completely normal shopping trip.
Okay, I should back up. What I mean is, I think this all started as a completely normal shopping trip. See, I've never actually been shopping. It's just not something demigods do, on principal, you know? (Hey, the world's about to end! Do you want to go hang out at the mall?)
But Annabeth had really wanted to get this sweater for her dad for Christmas. She had seen it in an ad in the paper or something. And, apparently, there's this thing called Black Friday, where the deals are, like, drop dead unbelievable. (Why they call it Black Friday, I'll never know. Maybe it's because you're trying not to get crushed by a mob of people every five seconds.)
Anyway, I had agreed to go (like the good boyfriend that I am). So Annabeth met me in front of my mom's apartment building at 3:00 A.M. sharp on Friday morning, the day after Thanksgiving.
"Tell me again why we're doing this?" I said, rubbing my hands together and shivering from the cold. I was pretty miserable. Who wouldn't be? I mean, it was three in the morning, below freezing, and I was going shopping.
Annabeth, on the other hand, looked ecstatic. "Because it's fun, Percy. Everyone goes Black Friday shopping."
"Oh, right," I said, because I still didn't really understand. Usually Annabeth and I have pretty similar tastes on what's fun. Fighting monsters, angering gods, trying not to die… that's a typical day for us. Annabeth had never expressed an interest in shopping, but then again, we were usually too busy, you know, saving the world.
Annabeth laughed at my expression, which, I guess, must've looked pretty unhappy. "Oh, come on, Seaweed Brain. Going shopping with me for a few hours is not going to kill you."
She was right, but, unfortunately, she was close to being very, very wrong.
We managed to not die for about the first five minutes, which is actually a new record for us.
Annabeth had dragged me to this huge department store that was jammed with people. And when I say jammed, I mean jammed. I barely had room to breathe, forget moving. I grabbed Annabeth's hand so we wouldn't lose each other in the crowd.
Eventually we ended up by a counter that was covered with tons of makeup. A man with slicked back hair and a tweed suit was putting makeup on a young woman. She looked pretty good, but kind of overdone too, like she was trying too hard to be beautiful.
"I'm so glad you don't do that to yourself," I commented to Annabeth, and she laughed and kissed my temple. I felt my stomach flip upside down at her touch. I mean, I was used to her touching me (in that store, I was touching her and about six random strangers anyway) but I still wasn't used to her being so openly affectionate.
The young woman finally hopped off of the stool and thanked the man in the tweed suit. Then the man turned to the crowd.
"Who's next?" He asked, and about a million hands went up. He looked around for a moment before setting his gaze on me. "What about you, Perseus Jackson?"
Now that sent up huge warning bells. Usually, when a random stranger I don't know uses my full name, it means I'm about to get pulverized. The thing is, sure, I was freaked out that he knew my name, but I was more distracted by the fact that he wanted to give me a makeover. (I blame the ADHD)
I snickered. "No thanks."
"Ah, but I insist," tweed-suit guy said. When I got closer to him, I noticed something else odd. He had a really, really long neck. I mean, it was so long he probably could've touched the tip of his head to his belly button without bending over.
I turned back to look at Annabeth as the guy dragged me to the makeup chair. She looked terrified.
Mr. Tweed-Suit shoved me down into the chair and ran his fingers lightly over the large selection of makeup on the counter. "Let's see, where shall we start?" He murmured.
Finally, he selected a small, innocent looking bottle. "Time for your makeover, Perseus Jackson," he said with an evil smile. He unscrewed the cap on the bottle and poured the liquid all over the floor right around me. As soon as the liquid hit the ground, it erupted into flames. But these weren't normal flames. They were green and dangerous looking. Greek fire.
I leapt from the chair and uncapped riptide, my lethal ballpoint pen. Now, normally, that would've worked in my defense. But leaping from the chair was not a good idea. I leapt straight into the flames. I screamed in pain as they started to lick against my flesh.
Suddenly, a great forced slammed into me, knocking me sideways into some shelves full of cooking ware. The pain in my legs subsided some. I looked up to see Annabeth staring down at me.
"You stupid idiot," she wailed, which is her way of saying 'thank the gods you're not dead yet.'
She jumped up and helped me to my feet.
"Where…" I started. Annabeth didn't need me to finish. She knew who I was after. She pointed to the opposite side of the room, where a man in a tweed suit was making a quick getaway on the escalator.
"Come on!" I shouted, and Annabeth followed me, pulling out her knife.
When we reached the escalator, Mr. Tweed-Suit was just stepping off onto the floor above. I followed quickly, taking the moving stairs two at a time. Unfortunately, I was not quick enough. When we reached the second floor, Mr. Tweed-Suit was nowhere to be seen.
"Split up," Annabeth said, voicing what I was thinking. We dashed down opposite ends of the hallway, in search of our prey. A minute later, I heard Annabeth scream. I followed the sound of her voice, praying to every god (even the ones that hated me) that she was okay.
I rounded a corner and saw her. She was holding her own in the fight against Mr. Tweed-Suit, but he was fast. I knew Annabeth couldn't keep going much longer. I charged into the battle, brandishing Riptide.
Mr. Tweed-Suit whirled around to face me and we met head-on in a clash of metal. He fought with two matching knifes, which gleamed silver in the industrial lighting. For a few moments we got nowhere. He thrust and I sidestepped. I charged and he parried. I was starting to get tired. I hoped I'd be able to finish him soon. Then something strange happened.
Mr. Tweed-Suit stopped fighting. I was so astonished that I stopped too. Then, things got really weird. Mr. Tweed-Suit's neck got longer and longer. His body started to expand. Fur began growing on his arms and legs. His suit split down the middle when he got too big to fit in it. Before a minute was over, standing in front of me was a full-grown llama.
"Di immortales," Annabeth whispered.
Then, if that wasn't freaky enough, the llama opened its mouth and let out a stream of fire.
A fire-breathing llama had tried to give me a makeover.
I got over my shock quickly, however. (You get used to seeing strange things when you're a half-blood) I charged with my sword. Bad idea. The llama shot out more fire. My quick reflexes were the only things that saved me from getting burned to a crisp.
I dashed out of the way as another stream of fire melted some Barbie dolls that were on a table in the aisle. I ended up next to Annabeth and we crouched down, out of sight behind a rack of dresses, breathing heavily.
"Ideas?" I asked. I was up for anything at this point.
"You distract him," Annabeth whispered. "I've got a plan."
I nodded. I rolled out from behind the dress rack as Annabeth pulled on her Yankees baseball cap and vanished. The llama had been looking for us; it was sniffing around one of the cash registers like a hound dog.
"Hey!" I shouted.
It got his attention. He turned back to me and let out another lethal stream of fire, but I was ready this time. I jumped out of the way and used the time he was standing still to inch closer to him.
"Are you as clumsy as you look?" I asked loudly. It was stupid, but sometimes Annabeth and I kind of survive on stupid, so I went with it. The llama grunted in outrage and shot more fire in my direction. I dropped to the ground to avoid it. The only problem was, once I was on the ground, I was stuck. The llama loomed over me. I was trapped.
"Anytime now would be nice, Annabeth," I muttered as the llama opened its mouth again.
Suddenly, the llama froze. His eyes glazed over, and for a moment he looked confused. Then he disintegrated in a blast of heat and wind. Annabeth appeared a second later, her baseball cap in one hand, a bloody knife in the other.
"Nice work, Seaweed Brain," she said.
"Yeah, you too," I replied, scrambling to my feet.
We stared at each other for a minute, breathing heavily, and then Annabeth leapt on me, hugging me hard.
"I bet no one else's Black Friday shopping is ever this exciting," I mutter into her shoulder. She laughed shakily, pulling back to look at my face.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I had no idea…"
"It's fine," I said, cutting her off. "It could've happened anywhere."
Annabeth nodded and then smirked. "Will you ever come shopping with me again?"
"Only in full battle armor," I promised and we laughed together.
Just then, Christmas music started to play over the loudspeakers. I guess the holiday shoppers hadn't been too upset by the massive, fire-breathing llama. The Mist would never cease to amaze me.
I looked back at Annabeth, who still had her arms around me.
"Merry Christmas, Annabeth," I said, grinning at her. She was so close, I could count the specks of blue in her eyes.
"Merry Christmas, Percy," she whispered. She pressed her lips against mine, burying her fingers in my hair as I pulled her against me.
So that's the story of how I almost died while Christmas shopping. I know what you're thinking: Oh please, that stuff only ever happens in books. Believe what you will. Trust me, I wish I could believe in Santa Clause and sugarplums and all that junk. It would make my life a heck of a lot easier. But if you happen to have a lethal ballpoint pen, I'd keep it handy. Especially while Christmas shopping, because it can get dangerous.
Oh, and one more thing. If you happen to see a man wearing a tweed suit, with slick backed hair and a really long neck?
Don't let him give you a makeover.