Recipe for Disaster
Chapter 8: Family Affair
The mood around the ping pong table situated within the big house was...to put it mildly...reserved. Nearly two thirds of the camp councilors were in some form of cast or body wrap, and of those, another one-fourth were in full body casings. The events of last week's cooking show were, to put it mildly, a mitigated catastrophe, which was essentially like every other cooking show put on by Camp Half-Blood, so that was to be expected.
What was not anticipated however was Frank Zhang's performance. Having turned himself into a killer whale was a very...not bad trick, but still, the demigods should have known to give him some space. They had learned that rule the hard way when they were sandwiched by the sudden belly flop of the 160 ton orca, thus the resulting condition of the collected campers. The only ones who seemed not effected by physical trauma caused by Frank's new transformation were those who had undergone Clarisse's rigorous training regiment, to which, they were all either passed out from exhaustion or in the infirmary recovering from dehydration. At any rate, the camp was in such a poor condition that many believed a gardener armed with a leaf blower could defeat the entire demigod army, though Clarisse was still perfectly fine so that was in reality unlikely, but exaggeration was the greatest weapon of a surly teenager. So, once more, Percy and Annabeth were called back to maintain security and command of the camp.
On a side note, Frank's transformation had...seemingly, been a one-way shift. The Roman demigod, while certainly able to turn himself into a whale, which was still a cool trick, had a modicum of difficulty reversing the transformation. It was only fortunate that Percy and Annabeth had returned later that day and, with the help of others who had not yet been brutalized by Clarisse's training, managed to drag him into the sound, the entire time Percy complaining about Atlanta and koi fish and comparing it to the usefulness of a killer whale. Still, the orca-Frank was currently safe in the Long Island Sound while they tried to work out how to get him to revert back to his original form.
Leo, who had been closest to Frank when he committed his change, had been flattened, and, after four days of reinflating the demigod, had woken up with an enthusiastic "That was awesome!" He was now positioned in a full-body cast, yet his ever cheery smile seemed excited as his traction bed was wheeled to the big house for some reason.
As Annabeth and Percy sat at the head of the table respectively, they glared at the assorted images of injured demigods, some beaten and crushed under Frank's whale form, and some simply too exhausted from Clarisse's training.
"So, you all look like you had fun while we were away," Percy said, his attention fiddling with his pen as he arched an eyebrow. "Why do I feel like this is a story I don't want to hear..."
"Oh you're going to hear it," Malcolm began from his wheelchair, "Because of the Roman's stupid stunt, we don't have anyone to do this week's cooking show! Unless..." he said, his eyes purposefully focusing on the only two demigods in the room not physically broken.
"The hell we are," Percy said, staring back at the son of Athena in challenge as he squared his jaw. "You know the rules Malcolm, we only have to do this flipping cooking show once, and Annabeth and I already did it. We're not doing it again, that's the rules..."
"Oh, right, because the gods are so good at keeping to the rule book aren't they?"
"Not caring for the snarky attitude Malcolm," Annabeth fired back, her own jaw set in defiance. "But get this through your cracked skull, we're. Not. Doing. IT!"
"Did someone say cooking show?" Rachel Elizabeth Dare said in exuberance as she burst through the big house door, much to the chagrin of those in attendance. The stunned looks fell upon the bright paint splatters on her worn jeans and the flaming red hair that seemed to glow in the darkened room.
"Yeah, like two minutes ago..."
"Damn, mistimed it..." Rachel stated, before recovering quickly, "er…what I meant to say is, I, as the all-seeing Oracle, have arrived exactly when I have deemed it necessary..."
Sighing in frustration, Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose as she looked at the new arrive. "What the hell do you want Dare?"
"That's rather a rude how-do-you-do, dontcha think?"
"Except the only time you show up is to give us a world shattering prophesy...I think it's pretty well deserved." Annabeth answered, her steely eyes glaring at the young Oracle.
"Tsk, what a way to welcome your best friend..."
"Uh, no, Percy's my best friend."
"Best friend," the black haired demigod echoed, leaning closer to his love as his husky voice whispered out, "and a whole lot more."
Smiling enticingly as she leaned closer towards him as well, her lips a breath away as she smiled at his close proximity. "You're my everything and more."
"No, stop!" Malcolm screamed, his eyes wide in awareness of what was about to happen.
"You know Malcolm, I could give a shit about your stupid cooking show, Percy and I have...uh...other matters to attend to, so you do whatever you want."
"Yeah, what she said," the son of Poseidon responded, standing up from the table and grabbing Annabeth's hand. "We have uh...stuff to do," his words fell silent as he looked at his lover, the want in his eyes completely palpable. "Lots and lots of stuff, hell, all the stuff. And I swear to the gods, if any of you little shits bother us in any way, I will make Tartarus look like a walk through Central Park."
"Isn't Central Park full of muggers?"
"Which, given what we deal with on a daily basis, is a picnic for a demigod," Percy recanted. And with that declaration the two rushed from the big house hand in hand, heading for Cabin Three. The poor, innocent entry door to the big house never standing a chance…
"So, as predicted, I'm hosting this week," Rachel said, smiling brightly as she stared at the collection of injured heroes who all audibly groaned.
-0-
The lights slowly illuminated the studio, shining behind the two hosts of this week's cooking show and casting their silhouettes in shadows of offsetting darkness in contrast to the generally lighthearted, if not borderline disturbing nature of the program. The visual cast an ominous mystique to the hosts as a smoke machine began billowing puffs of purple condensation as the studio lights slowly brightened, revealing Rachel and Will Solace, who was slumped over the prep table in barely contained exhaustion from his week of rigorous training.
"So how ya all doing up in O-LYM-PEE-US!" Rachel said cheerfully, her smile stretching across her face as she threw her hands up in celebration. "That's right I am the one and only, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, better known as the Oracle, here to impart upon you the knowledge of the ages with some kicking foodstuff."
"Why are you so cheery?" Will groaned as he remained slumped over the table, unable to move due to, as he had estimated, no less than six torn muscles and three or perhaps four herniated tendons.
"Why are you so miserable?" Rachel countered as she looked at the suffering demigod.
"Clarisse and her training if you must know. Think I ruptured a couple of vertebrae, and I'm pretty sure I'm dying..."
"Really?" Rachel asked with faux concern before looking over the items on the prep table. "Well Nico will be happy to hear that."
"What? Why would Nico be happy I died?"
"King of Ghosts you know. You die, your ghost becomes his personal plaything, and he'll finally get you to do that thing he's been badgering you about...you know the thing..."
Face turning bright red, Will's eyes bulged as he sputtered. "How-how did you know about THAT?"
"I didn't," Rachel said smiling. "But now I do...er, I mean...I am the oracle, I know all, and see all!" she said, realizing the audience before her, none of whom seemed to care what she was saying.
"You liar!"
"You really want to play that card with me?" she asked, eyes narrowed as she thrust her arms outward. "Fine." With that, the green aura exploded forth from Rachel's body, her eyes illuminated in the otherworldly glow while the lights in the studio all dimmed.
"Behold, I am the Oracle of Delphi, speaker of truths unseen and messenger of Apollo..." the oracle paused as she looked around the studio, watching as many of the campers attempted to back away as well as they could, given their various injuries. "Gods Damn it Dare, how many times do I have to say it, I am not your MAGIC (censored)ing 8-BALL! Wait, what the (censored) was that?"
"Profanity filter," Malcolm said proudly from his wheelchair, though he looked less sure of himself with the oracle glaring at him.
"Profanity filter? Mother (censored)er are you out of your (censored)ing mind?"
"How many times do I have to say it? This is a family show people. The unmitigated profanity HAS TO STOP!"
"Are you serious?" The Oracle asked, her attention fixed solely upon the son of Athena. "Oh gods you are. Well genius, let me fill you in on a little secret. That 'wholesome family show' you're so trying to peddle, is being streamed live for the freaking gods of Olympus. You know, that collection of rapists and whores that can't seem to keep it in their pants more than 30 seconds. I mean...holy (censored) this whole camp is proof of that."
Thunder exploded across the sky as the Oracle just smirked. "Oh you know it's true, you just don't like to admit you (censored) like a rabbit. And for (censored) sake, stop trying to silence the gods (censored) Oracle you bdelyròs." The word coming unhindered by the profanity filter drew a smile on the Oracle's face as she glared at Malcolm. "Profanity filter doesn't work on ancient Greek does it you pòrne. That's what you get for trying to out do the Oracle of freaking Delphi aphòdeuma for brains. I thought you were supposed to be smart!"
"And I thought you were supposed to just give prophesies," Will moaned from his place on the prep table, seemingly unable to move.
"And I thought this was a cooking show…" Malcolm protested, once more throwing his clipboard in the air as the script scattered in his action.
"Oh, Imma give you a prophesy, how about, you don't shut your mouth I'm gonna whup dat ass!" The Oracle said, finally grabbing a large metal pan and slamming it on the prep table. "You have no idea how hard it is being the Oracle. No one comes to talk to me unless they need something. Oh sure, you gràson boot lickers talk to Rachel, and before that Sana, then Rebekah, then, well you get the idea.
"Not one of you ever stop by just to say hi to me, you know, the one responsible for putting you on life and death quests. Think you'd want to be a little nicer to the one who literally holds your fate in their hands. Stupid godlings.
"The worst though," the Oracle continued as she proceeded to pour a gallon of bleach into the prep pan before setting a beef roast in the center of the clear liquid and began slicing strawberries to drop into the mixture, much to everyone's confusion. "Is knowing that the bodies I inhabit must retain their virginity. Do you have any ideal how sexually repressed I am?"
"I don't want to know…" Will said, his eyes wide with pleading hope that the spirit of Delphi would not relate the information he really did not want or need. Oh how naively stupid he was in that moment.
"Three thousand years hanging around the Olympians and watching them screw everything with a pulse while I'm stuck anchored to a virgin. The only one who ever had the guts to ask me about it was Susanna, 'Oh Oracle of Delphi, would oral sex violate my contract with Apollo?' How the (censored) would I know, so I said sure, it'll be fine. Yeah, it wasn't. She's been hanging around the Fields of Punishment for the last 320 years. Would probably feel bad about it if she wasn't such a raging thunder (censored)."
"You know what, let's just go to commercial," Malcolm groaned from his chair, yet when the scene on the teleprompter did not shift to this weeks' advertiser he raised his head in confusion.
"Oh, what's that, the sponsor seems to be unavailable," the Oracle said as she smirked knowingly. "Well, this weeks' sponsor is King Midas' Gold Emporium...which is currently out of business, thanks to Percy and Annabeth. So, no sponsor, which is fine, because I'm not done yet.
"Take off your sock," she suddenly said to Will who was taken aback by the sudden shift of dialogue.
"What?"
"Did I stutter? I said take off your sock," the Oracle demanded as she waited for Will to painfully peel the material from his foot and hold it out for the Oracle who looked at it with distaste. "Your left sock genius."
"This is my left sock."
"Your other left."
"Most people call that their right."
"Who's the Oracle here wise ass?" she said, snatching the designated sock and throwing it into the pan that now contained potatoes, vinegar and a live chicken that no one could remember how it got there.
"Anyway, since I have the attention of all the Olympians right now, what better time than to spill the beans on all your dirty little secrets. Here's one for you, hey Hera, check the left side, third shelf of Zeus' closet. That's where he keeps his porn. Oh he's got nudes of Aphrodite, Demeter, Artemis, Hecate, Nike,...well, you'll see them soon enough. And not to alarm the audience here but he also has nudes of half the campers of Camp Half-Blood."
"WHAT?!" The assembled crowd screamed in shock as the Oracle seemed nonplussed as she added whip cream to whatever it was she was making.
"Oh, yeah, if you've used the public showers, chances are he's got a picture of you. Voyeuristic freak."
"How dare he take pictures of the girl's showers," Piper screamed in indignation as the Oracle fixed her with a puzzled stare.
"That's rather sexist Piper, when did I say it was the girls' shower?" Ignoring the pale expressions that filtered across the boys faces, the Oracle continued.
"Oh, but he's not the only one, Aphrodite, slut queen that she is, has almost as big a body count. Now she actually does have nudes of everyone in camp, and video recording of any time any of you hook up with each other. And there's no getting around it, so you might as well give her a show.
"But here's a fun secret that Aphrodite doesn't want anyone to know. Her son Cupid is actually asexual. Oh that's right, what an embarrassment, the god of love is a loveless fraud."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes Piper, I'm sure. Why do you think he has no children here? The other gods have a libido that could power a small city and breed like rabbits, yet Cupid, the god of freaking love, can't get it up, not because of erectile dysfunction, but because he's as emotionally available as a sign post. Actually, depending on the city, a sign post might get more action."
"Can we stop talking...I'm really, really, really feeling uncomfortable."
Smiling deviously as she turned her head to the suffering son of Apollo, the Oracle let out a sinister chuckle that made Will's blood run cold, quite for the son of the sun god. "Oh, you'll love this then. Remember how I commented on how sexually frustrated I am? Well, that's mostly only the physical. If you remember, I am the SPIRIT of Delphi, and thus my incorporeal form has all the same needs as my physical. And guess who satisfies THOSE needs?"
"WHAT?" Will startled as his eyes grew wide in his head.
"Oh yeah, because that's something we both have in common Will. You and I both call Apollo 'daddy' but for completely different reasons."
"Oh gods," Will blubbered as he began banging his head on the prep table.
"Yeah, but you know, I'm going to stop here," the Oracle said as the muttering of relief seemed to circle around the assembled demigods. "But before I go I just want to let you all know about my new tell all book, 'The Oracle Speaks: Three Thousand Years of Shit', on sale for pre-order now, and will be carried by Amazon, Barnes & Noble and all ROFL locations, shout out to my girl Iris. And with that, I'm out."
The green mist retracted back into the form of Rachel as her eyes fluttered open. Despite the uneasy expressions on the crowd, Rachel smiled brightly. "So, today we are preparing a dish of...what the hell is that?" she asked, looking at the creation of variously strange items, and a live chicken, all shoved into a baking pan.
Will, unable to stay on his feet any more, collapsed to the ground while everyone in assembly, god and demigod alike, tried desperately to ignore what they've just heard while pondering whether to pre-order the Oracle's book. "Huh, how about that?" Rachel said, having retrieved a piece of paper from her pocket, "Oral sex does not count as sex, I never knew that."
A/N: Been a while since I've written one of these, this one was born from a single joke, the one about calling Apollo daddy and how the Oracle would actually be bitter about the world if she were given the chance to speak.
Anyway, despite how insane I feel this went, how it was enjoyable. As always, if you're kind enough to read, please be kind enough to drop a review, favorite, follow, whatever. Thank you for reading.