Hello my little minions.

As you can see, I have started over the Newest Generation. I believe it is for the better, because a lot of stuff made no sense whatsoever.

So, let us get started! I don't own Percy Jackson. Especially this scene belongs to Rick Riordan.

A black haired, green eyed boy was walking along the beach of Camp Half-Blood, when he spotted a man fishing at the docks. He walked over to him carefully as the man said, "Good day for fishing."

It was Poseidon, god of the sea, standing knee- deep in the surf with his usual Bermuda shorts, beat-up cap, and a real subtle pink-and- green Tommy Bahama shirt. He had one of those deep sea fishing rods in his hands, and when he cast the line it went way out … at least halfway across Long Island Sound.

"Hi dad," said the boy. "What brings you here?"

He winked. "Never really got to talk in private on Olympus. I wanted to thank you. " "Thank me? You came to the rescue. " "Yes, and I got my palace destroyed in the process, but you know-palaces can be rebuilt. I've gotten so many thank-you cards from the other gods. Even Ares wrote one, though I think Hera forced him to. It's rather gratifying. So, thank you. I suppose even the gods can learn new tricks."

The Sound began to boil. At the end of the boy's dad's line, a huge green sea serpent erupted from the water. It thrashed and fought, but Poseidon just sighed. Holding his fishing pole with one hand, he whipped out his knife and cut the line. The monster sank below the surface. "Not eating size, " he complained. "I have to release the little ones or the game wardens will be all over me. " "Little ones?"

He grinned. "You're doing well with those new cabins, by the way. I suppose this means I can claim all those other sons and daughters of mine and send you some siblings next summer." "Ha-ha. " Poseidon reeled in his empty boy shifted his feet. "Um, you were kidding, right?" Poseidon gave him one of his inside-joke winks. "I'll see you soon, Percy. And remember, know which fish are big enough to land, eh?" With that he dissolved in the sea breeze, leaving a fishing pole lying in the sand.

It all started when I made the girl's bathroom explode.

Let me explain.

My name is River Roth. Today was my last day at Huckleberry Middle School, which is surprising because I barely make it through the school year without doing something terrifying. You see, every year something odd happens, something so dangerous that I would have to leave the school and shift to another one, which in that one of course I wouldn't make it through the year either. One time I made a policeman's car explode. Another time these creepy dudes showed up and started getting into a fight, which of course I was blamed for. I could've sworn that I saw each guy had only one eye, right in the middle of their heads. Another time- well, you get the idea.

Anyways, it was my last day in Huckleberry. I was just minding my own business, trying to get to class, when of course that jerk Matt Markinson had to get in my way, blocking mine and my best friend Rowan's path.

Matt is the bully of the school. He has this huge gang of jerks that always corner the dorks of the school in the hallways just because they feel like it. His breath smells like rotten tuna fish, (Believe me, I speak from experience.) and I'm guessing his parents are crocodiles because he sure looks like one. His lips are always pulled into a snarl, and his face is so ugly I can't even explain how it looks. Let's just say, if he was a kind of food, he would be a rotten potato.

Of course, my math teacher, Ms. Retard, (I'm not kidding, that's her name.) thinks that he's some sort of angel from heaven and I'm a devil's spawn. Every time I do something bad she says, "Now sweetie," real sweet so she makes all the other teachers think that she's just being polite. Sometimes I swear, when she gets angry, I can see devil wings shooting out of her back. But I guess that's just me.

Anyways, Matt cornered us in the hallway. He had his usual sneer on his face and his black beady eyes were slits, showing his crocodile side of himself. Rowan grabbed my shoulder and gave me a look that said, we better split.

Unfortunately, that is not what happened. Matt laughed his crocodile laugh and suddenly, his buddies appeared by his side, a bunch of other reptiles. "Rowan and River," he sneered. "What a surprise to see you here. You know, I was looking for you. I hear that you've been spreading rumors about us." He looked nervously at Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher.

Mr. Brunner was a guy in a wheelchair. But that didn't mean he was any less fun. We'd always have plays in his class, and we'd get cool wooden swords and dress up like a greek god or goddess. Sometimes Mr. Brunner would even join in, raising his sword (Not wooden, but really sharp.) and yelling, "HEY HO!"

Right now, when we really needed him, he of course was reading the newspaper on his way to class, not giving us a second glance. Matt smirked and grabbed my arm, digging his disgusting nails into my skin. I heard Rowan yell my name behind me, but I was too busy digging my feet into the ground to pay attention to her.

Somehow, Matt used his crocodile strength to pull me into the girls bathroom. It was a rechad bathroom, all pink. I'd think Ms. Retard designed it. The walls were pink, the floors were pink, the stalls were pink, even the toilets and the toilet papers were pink.

I hated it.

I didn't know why Matt the crocodile chose the girls' bathroom, of all places, but I knew that he was too stupid to understand the difference between a square and a circle, so I guess he wasn't too bright to figure out the fact differences between genders.

Matt pushed me into a stall. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Rowan being held by one of his reptillian buddies. She struggled, kicked, punched, but they wouldn't let go. I was surprised. Rowan was one of the strongest people I knew, both mentally and physically.

I stared at Matt, who was grinning like an idiot. "Finally, revenge," he whispered in my ear. I pulled away. I did not want to smell his horrible breath.

"Have fun drinking toilet water, Roth," he snarled, and started pushing my head towards the disgusting, pink, toilet. I struggled and tried to keep my head up, but Matt was strong. He kept pushing and pushing and pushing. And I knew, I knew, that there was no way I was going in there.

In the last few seconds of my life, I just wanted to be dry. Dry forever.

I heard a big boom and I felt a tug in my gut as I closed my eyes. Dry. Dry. Dry.

Then, suddenly, Matt was no longer gripping my head like his life depended on it. Slam. Something had crashed into the stall door. I decided it was okay to open my eyes.

When I did, I was the only dry spot in the room.

I think I was more successful, this time. Hopefully it's better then the first one so far.

Review!