(so yeah, I guess I wasn't able to do double chaps like I meant to, but hey, forgive me for being excited but school is ending for me soon, so yeah)

"My name is Beowulf."

Percy stood there with a blank expression on his face, before lolling his head to the side in utter confusion.

"I'm sorry, am I supposed to recognize you?"

Beowulf grunted in annoyance. "Beowulf? Legendary hero?"

Percy shook his head in disappointment, "Sorry, not ringing any bells."

"Bee wolf?", Beowulf tried, "Bee Hunter?"

Percy snickered at the name, before sputtering, "B-bee hunter? A legendary hero? I bet those monsters cower in fear as they hear your name, 'Oh no! It's the infamous hero, the Bee Hunter!'"

Beowulf snarled at such a description and he abruptly stood up.

Percy backed away hesitantly, "Hey, I don't wanna' put you down again man… so, uh… if you don't mind parking your overly drunk ass back onto the-"

Percy was cut off as Beowulf grabbed both of his arms, and started to squeeze them like pulpy oranges, waiting to be juiced.

"Ooooooooooowww.", Percy moaned as the blood was slowly drained out of his arms.

"If you don't grovel on your knees in the next ten seconds, this experience will become much more torturous, and your arms will fall off, bleeding like pulp less husks of rotten-out fruits.", Beowulf sneered into Percy's face.

Percy nodded arduously as he started to feel his bones creak in their sockets. Beowulf let go of him, and he groveled on the ground whilst clutching his aching arms… that just made it worse since he could only hold his aching arms, WITH his aching arms.

"I am SOOOOOO sorry.", Percy whisper-yelled as he writhed in agony on the cave floor.

Beowulf scratched the stubble on his chin, before replying, "You laughed at me earlier when I fell in the mud, now I shall laugh at you as you do so as well."

Percy's ego took a skydive, but it was either his ego or his arms, and between those two, it wasn't really that hard to choose.

He took a deep breath, and plunged his face into a puddle of mud on his right. He suddenly started to panic however, as he felt a large force step onto his back, not letting him get his face out of the mud to breathe.

He started to flail around on the floor, his body spasming to try to get out under the immense weight of Beowulf's foot on his spine. Percy's arms were definitely no use either, as the muscles in them had the strength literally squeezed out of them.

Realizing he had no other option, he felt around the cave for a source of water, and found a small puddle of water close by. Trying to put his stressed mind into a calm mode, he channeled the water and made it fly into Beowulf's foot, momentarily loosening the weight on his back, letting him slip out and take a breath of air.

Beowulf promptly fell onto the floor once more, grumbling angrily as he had to wipe off more mud from his face. Percy also got up, his nose crinkling at the even stronger smell of piss wafting around the cave.

Beowulf slowly cracked a grin as he eyed Percy's face, and Percy realized that his face must have been covered in mud. But Beowulf didn't stop laughing, and he started to hold his stomach as he tried to contain his bursts of laughter.

"What is it?", Percy growled, hating the fact that Beowulf seemed to be laughing at him for more than just the mud on his face.

"I-it's just… *bwahahahah"… that mud is where I *ahhahahhahah*… that mud is where I piss in the morning!", Beowulf cried out, snickering at Percy's disgusted reaction.

"Ugh!", Percy reached over to another nearby puddle, and proceeded to wash his face fervently.

Beowulf laughed heartily before lazily sauntering back to his couch and munching on the leftover crushed crumbs. Taking one last swig of his ale, Beowulf stared at Percy subconsciously, wondering why in Odin's beard he ended up in his cave.

"So, kid… how'd you end up here?", he asked as he rummaged around the coffee table for a box of pizza buried under piles of paper cups.

"Uh, fell down the World Tree… met a dragon and brought me here…"

Beowulf spit out the piece of pizza he was chewing on, which he instantly regretted, and wondered why Nidhrogg would send him this insulting piece of work to begin with.

"So, uh… why'd he send yuh?", he asked as he unknowingly scratched his stubble of a beard.

"Said, he knew someone who could help me… I dunno…"

Beowulf cursed under his breath. "Sounds like a lot you don't know."

Percy sighed in the distance and replied, "Story of my life."

'You know he killed a frigging really powerful monster just by squeezing some limbs.'

Percy grimaced at the thought.

"You, uh… have super strength or something?"

Beowulf pondered on the question.

"Strength, yes. Super strength? It depends."

As if though still questioning his own strength, Beowulf grabbed a bowling ball (What the Frigg is a bowling ball doing there?!) and crushed it in his bare hands within seconds.

Percy gulped and mumbled, "Super strength, it's Jerkules all over again."

Discarding the remnants of the ball, Beowulf got up and headed towards the basketball court. Percy watched in bewilderment as he took a ball, and started dribbling like a professional at an NBA game.

"You coming or what, Junior?", Beowulf asked with mild amusement as Percy rushed over quickly and started taking a defensive position in front of him.

With the ease of a skilled athlete, Beowulf sprinted past Percy and went straight for the dunk. The backboard gained three new cracks.

Percy, deciding he didn't want to get shown up, dribbled the ball in a smooth current of flow, imagining the ball as an orb of water, Percy manipulated it like a graceful dancer, swerving around Beowulf thanks to his much better dexterity and speed.

However, Beowulf beat him to the ring, and managed to block his shot.

"Holy Hera, he's fast!", Percy said as his already failing defense got shattered by a charging Beowulf.

Not even five minutes later, Beowulf walked out of the court without even a sweat, while Percy barely managed to crawl out.

Beowulf smirked at Percy's tired state, before grabbing a bottle of water and dousing him with it.

"Thanks."

Beowulf just grunted before returning to the lounge, as he relaxed with a bowl of popcorn and a liter of coke.

'Interesting. Beowulf was not the trainer I had in mind for you, but he will do very well indeed.'

"Trainer? Why on earth do I need a trainer?"

'You need someone with more experience than you to guide you, and help you achieve your goal throughout this spiritual quest.'

"More experience? I doubt that guy's been to Tartarus."

'He killed Satan. With an icicle.'

Percy's mouth flapped like a fish out of water.

"That's… neat."

'Indeed, so unless you want to reach the apex of your prowess, I suggest you get to training.'

"I'm sorry, but since when do I agree with what you ever say?", Percy asked as he remembered camp, his friends, his girlfriend… all left behind because he chose to follow a stupid voice.

'Does it look like you have a choice?'

"Well, I could just leave."

Percy swore he heard the voice smirk.

'Do as you please, leave here, and we'll see where that will get you.'

Percy shrugged and walked over to a nearby door.

"I wouldn't open that if I were you.", Beowulf warned.

"Why not?", Percy taunted.

"Because this cave is situated on the highest goddamn mountain in Midgard.", he replied.

Seeing that Percy had no idea what he was saying, he added, "I live on Mt. Everest, dumbass."

(Well? How was that for Part 2 of Percy Gets a Trainer? BRB tom)