Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or Camp Half-Blood or mythology. Rick does. Well, at least the characters and Camp Half-Blood.

Chapter 7

"Stêthi," Percy said in ancient Greek. "Ô hárma diabolês."

He threw his golden drachma, with Zeus' likeness stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other, into the street. But instead of clattering on the asphalt, the drachma sank right through and disappeared. Percy hoped Frisia's advice would work.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, where the coin had fallen, the asphalt darkened. It melted into a rectangular pool about the size of a parking space—bubbling red liquid like blood. Then a car erupted from the ooze.

It was a taxi, all right, but unlike every other taxi in New York, it wasn't yellow. It was smoky grey. It looked like it was woven out of smoke, like you could walk right through it. There were words printed on the door—something like GYAR SSIRES—but Percy found it hard to read with his dyslexia.

The passenger window rolled down, and an old woman stuck her head out. She had a mop of grizzled hair covering her eyes, and she spoke in a weird mumbling way.

"Passage? Passage?"

"Um, Chesapeake. Virginia."

"No!" the old woman screeched. "Only the Greater New York and surrounding communities. We don't serve outside of this area!"

Percy took a deep breath. "But Frisia told me—"

"Frisia?" the woman screamed. "Who are you, demigod?" The face stared at him hard. Suddenly, she gasped and said, "Get in the back. You're going to Chesapeake."

Giving them a cautious look, he got into the back. The interior was also smoky grey, but it felt solid enough. The seat was cracked and lumpy. Then he saw the old lady driving… But there wasn't just one lady. There were three, all crammed in the front seat, each with stringy hair covering their eyes, bony hands, and a charcoal-coloured sackcloth dress.

The one driving said, "Haha! Son of Poseidon on a suicide quest. No wonder Zeus is letting him go."

Before he could entirely process what she had said, she floored the accelerator, and his head slammed against the backrest. A pre-recorded voice came on over the speaker: Hi, this is Ganymede, cup-bearer to Zeus, and when I'm out buying wine for the Lord of the Skies, I always buckle up!

Percy looked down and found a large black chain instead of a seat belt. Better safe than sorry.

He buckled up.

They were speeding down the Lincoln Tunnel when Percy recovered his bearings. He looked at the trio of ladies in the front and asked, "Wait, what do you mean Zeus is letting me go?"

"Don't tell him, Anger," said the lady in the middle. "He's on the tipping scale, you know. Don't want to alert the gods."

The woman in the driver's seat cackled. "Tell him, Anger. No one hears anything on the Gray Sisters Taxi, Tempest. We'll be fine."

"Wasp is right," Anger told Tempest. "Let me tell him. Well... Zeus knows about you, hero. But he's busy dealing with his own offspring. He decided to let you go on your quest."

Wasp said, "Yes. We are wise. We know things! We know every street in Manhattan. The capital of Nepal!"

"The location you seek!" Tempest added.

"What?" Percy said. "What location? I'm not seeking any—"

"Sea of Monsters," she interrupted. "30, 31, 75, 12!"

She belted it out like a quarterback calling a play.

"What do you mean?" he said. "That makes no sense!"

"We know your betrayal," Anger said mysteriously. "And we know your betrayer. We've had famous people in this cab, Percy. Perseus! You remember him?"

"Don't remind me!" Wasp wailed. "And we didn't have a cab back then, you old bat. That was three thousand years ago!"

"How do you know who I am?" Percy demanded. He was beginning to feel carsick, and he was already freaked out. "How do you know I'm betraying people? Who's going to betray me?"

"Time will tell." Tempest laughed hysterically. "Only time will well."

"If you know stuff, tell me how Frisia knew what to do," he said. "She looked like someone told her what to say."

"Some things must stay secrets," teased Wasp.

They were speeding down Interstate 95 at what seemed to be 300 miles per hour. But to the Gray Sisters, it seemed like they were on cruise control, casually speeding down the highway. That pretty much summed up the speed of the thoughts that were spinning through his head.

Golden Fleece. Sea of Monsters. Bermuda Triangle. Frisia. Rose. Hermes' multivitamins. Empousa. Betrayals and betrayers. Kronos.

Somehow, these were all connected in a giant scheme. Percy could sense it. He just couldn't understand the reasoning behind the events, and how they fit together. It was like he was trying to fit English words in a sentence on a piece of paper. The thoughts were flying around like crazy bats. They seemed to move the same way English words did when he tried reading them.

Percy wondered if the quest would have been easier if Luke had accompanied him. Percy remembered how the empousa laughed when he told her that he wouldn't be the Olympians' pawn, like he'd made a wrong judgement. Empousa were servants of Hecate, the goddess of magic. Who would she serve other than the Olympians? The Gray Sisters told him that Zeus wasn't after him. Who was more trustworthy? The Gray Sisters or an empousa?

When he was ten, Poseidon told him that nobody knew about him, and those that did never bothered to tell the likes of Zeus and Hades. Was that all a lie to cover up for his mistakes? Was that a lie to make Percy feel safer?

Percy hated his dad for leaving him like this. For giving him this life. He hated his dad for breaking the oath just to be with his mom. Why couldn't they have not slept with each other? Poseidon wouldn't have broken his oath, his mother wouldn't be dead, and he wouldn't be travelling down the east coast of the United States alone on a quest to help a dark Titan lord to rise for revenge on the Olympians.

A dark guilt sank in his stomach. Did Poseidon know what he was up to and why he was up to it?

Percy remembered a dark story that Luke once told him. The story of Luke's childhood. Percy saw the way Luke trembled when he spoke about his own mother, who had somehow gone crazy. Luke didn't know how, and Percy didn't want to know how, but Luke told him that she would always ramble on about his fate one day. And how Hermes knew what was going to happen but refused to tell him.

If Poseidon knew what he was doing, would he kill him once he stepped into the water? Or would he allow Percy to help Kronos rise? Percy looked out into the dark night. Cars zipped by as the Gray Sisters Taxi zipped past Philadelphia.

Neither Frisia nor Rose were acting normally back in New York. It was bizarre. There was definitely a secret behind all of this, otherwise Wasp wouldn't have hinted at that, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Hermes had showed up at Sweet on America. Did the Olympians have anything to do with it?

A connection clicked in Percy's head. Hermes knew Luke's future. Was it possible that, since Percy was working closely with Luke for Kronos, that Hermes saw parts of Percy's future?

But at camp, everyone always emphasized that the gods could never interfere with their children's quests. Why would Hermes help him?

Half an hour later, he was in Chesapeake, Virginia. The Gray Sisters wished him good luck and told him that "even the best heroes require aid—sometimes from friends; sometimes from enemies." He wasn't sure what that meant, but he thanked the sisters and watched as they sped off north, back to New York.

Percy turned and gasped. He was at the same beach as Thalia and Annabeth in a dream he'd had a long time ago.

A sign to his right said VIRGINIA BEACH, though it took him a minute to decipher it. He wondered if the camping area they'd set up was nearby. He spent two hours looking before he finally found the hut. It was carefully hidden under a patch of brambles, camouflaged into the ground. He moved aside a woven circle of branches, like a door, and looked inside.

It was big enough for two people. The walls were woven from plant material, like a Native American hut, but they looked kind of water proof. Stacked in the corner was everything a demigod could want for a campout—sleeping bags, blankets, an ice chest, and a kerosene lamp. There were bronze javelin tips, a quiver full of arrows, an extra sword, and a box of ambrosia. The place smelled musty, like it had been vacant for a long time.

"A half-blood hideout," Percy grinned. "Those two are amazing."

He walked over to the ice chest, hoping that some food was in there. But instead, all he found was a tape recorder. Frowning, he hit the play button, and suddenly the voices of two girls filled the room.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Thalia's voice spoke. "Why would we record this?"

"In case another demigod finds this place, we can tell them how to use it efficiently to survive," Annabeth's voice countered. "I mean, with the amount of demigods we've run into, dead or alive, there's bound to be someone that'll find this place. Besides, we'll be well gone by the time they get here."

"Fine, fine," Thalia said. "Anyway, whoever found this… hello! Welcome to days of our hard work that you're going to use. I swear, if you trash it, I will come back, find you and haunt you until you die."

Percy chuckled. Thalia seemed a lot more aggressive than he remembered from his dream.

Annabeth went on to describe the place and how to use it well and blah blah blah. After the explanation, Annabeth said, "Well, I'm going to go fetch some food for us while Thalia finishes up this recording."

Percy heard the sound of the door opening and closing. Thalia was quiet.

"Well, um, hi. I'm Thalia, daughter of Zeus, and currently being hunted down by Hades, the lord of the dead. You know… your everyday routine." She sighed sadly. "Sometimes I wish my father never sired me. Sometimes I wish I could just be a normal demigod. Have a parent like Athena or something. Nobody really knows what it's like to be a child of the Big Three. Nobody that I know, at least. Annabeth is the smartest, most level-headed girl I know, but even she doesn't know what it's like. If… if whoever is listening to this, by some miracle, is a son or daughter of Poseidon or Hades or Zeus, tell yourself: don't you ever feel angry with your dad sometimes? Don't you wish you could just yell at them or something?"

"All the time," Percy muttered.

"I get angry with my dad sometimes. I resent him. I feel like I'm just a tool or a pawn or something. Waiting for the king to put me up as a sacrifice, right? I mean, sure they're gods, but can't they just send a message once in a while, even if it's just to claim me? I've never talked to my father. I've never seen him. Not even in dreams."

She paused. And Percy looked down. He'd seen his father, and Poseidon had claimed him as his son. You are my son, whether you like it or not, Poseidon had said.

"At the same time, I want my dad to notice me. I want him to be proud of me. I want him to realize that I'm more than just another one of his random children. I want him to respect me as a human and to be at my side. I know that some of that is not possible, but I have dreams too. And those feelings are more powerful than any resentment I feel."

Percy stared at the quiver of arrows in the corner.

"I don't want to be known as the selfish daughter of Zeus who would do anything to get revenge. I have friends, a close friend, and I won't let her get hurt because I resent my dad. Being with people helps me relax and forgive. Forgiving is harder than getting revenge because you have to put the past behind you, and as a stubborn person, that's hard for me. The gods are busy. I understand that. Maybe I want them to communicate with me more often. But I will never betray Olympus. If I find this myself in the future, I want you to look at yourself, future me, and decide whether the choice you made was worth it or not."

Right then, Annabeth entered. Percy shut off the tape recorder and squeezed it with a fist.

He could almost see the scene unfold in his head. Annabeth would have walked in and given Thalia some food and Thalia would keep her feelings hidden. She'd tell Annabeth some sort of excuse or lie to prevent her from finding out what she said. They would stop the recording before putting the tape in the ice box, and then they would leave. And Thalia would leave her personal thoughts behind to either be found by another demigod, by herself in the future, or be destroyed.

Percy angrily threw the recorder at the wall. He found himself torn because of the girl's words. She sounded like a more reasonable version of himself. He knew why he was doing all this. He had no real friends. Everyone had just been a temporary replacement for the hole in his heart left by his mother, a woman who would never have done anything bad. She'd never approve of what he was doing.

So was he going to continue? Kronos could send the order to kill him at any moment.

Could Camp Half-Blood use the Golden Fleece? If he succeeded, he could bring it to camp and then turn sides. But what would Luke say? Luke would be furious and probably backstab him. Other than Grover, Luke was the closest friend he had at camp.

Percy shook his head. He would make his decision later. His priority was getting the Golden Fleece. The only problem was getting there. He didn't know where it was… or did he?

What had Tempest said? 30, 31, 75, 12.

Those were coordinates. 30 degrees, 31 minutes north. 75 degrees, 12 minutes west. They had to be. Those coordinates were out in the Bermuda Triangle somewhere. Percy remembered a class he'd taken back at Camp Half-Blood with Nathan before he died. There were two ways to measure coordinates: decimal coordinates or decimal and minute coordinates. New York was about 40 degrees, 42 minutes north, and 74 degrees, 0 minutes west.

All he needed was a GPS and he was set. Percy looked back at the ice box. "Don't worry, Thalia. I know what it feels like. And I'll be back to rescue you. I promised Rose. I don't break my promises."

Percy forgot that the hut was on the edge of a river, so naturally, he ran straight out into the water. The current washed him toward the ocean. Less than a minute later, he was thrown out the river's mouth, and salt water washed over him. He felt an energy rush, and suddenly numbers flew right into his head.

"37 degrees, 34 minutes north!" he shouted. "76 degrees, 15 minutes west!" He shook his head. "Whoa. How did I know that?"

Then he looked up. He was in Chesapeake Bay. Brackish water was what a mix of freshwater and salt water was called. He could feel it. He knew it was because of his dad that he could tell what the coordinates were. But it only worked in salt water. That was good to know.

Percy began swimming out toward the sea. He used the currents around him to propel himself forward. Soon enough, he found himself back at Virginia Beach. He climbed up onto shore and looked out across the ocean. One problem was fixed. All he needed now was some way to get to the Sea of Monsters.

Percy made his way back to the beach. He stood in the waves wondering how he was going to get into the Sea of Monsters. He remembered the Gray Sisters saying something like "even the best heroes require aid—sometimes from friends; sometimes from enemies."

What did that mean? Friends were people who liked each other in a friendly way. Enemies were people who were actively opposed to him. But maybe friends and enemies weren't supposed to be taken literally.

Friends could mean those who he liked and enemies could mean those who he disliked. Percy hated the figurative language of Greek mythology. It was too hard to think which one was which.

"I need help," Percy muttered. "Someone please help me. I need to get into the Sea of Monsters and I don't know how."

They were empty words lost on a regular summer night, but Percy could dream. He needed a boat or something. Hephaestus worked with machines. Maybe he could pray to Hephaestus. Hermes was the god of travellers. Maybe he could pray to Hermes. But this was the territory of Poseidon. And that was the one god Percy didn't want to pray to. It was partially because he wasn't too fond of the god, but it was also because he was afraid that Poseidon would realize what he was up to. He knew the god would try to stop him, and that argument would only end in hatred and tears.

He took a shaky breath. "Please, Poseidon. I need passage."

For a while, nothing happened. Percy figured the Sea God hadn't heard him. But then something appeared in the water a hundred feet away. It moved fast toward the shore, like a claw ripping through the ocean.

As it neared the beach, the surf burst apart and the head of a white stallion reared out of the waves.

It was a beautiful creature. As it pulled itself onto the sand, Percy saw that it was only a horse in the front; its back half was a silvery fish body, with glistening scales and a rainbow tail fin. It was like a… a rainbow fish-horse thing.

My lord, the creature said.

"Lord? What?" Percy was too busy staring at it in awe. "You're… what are you?"

Hippocampus, lord, the hippocampus said. It was a boy's voice. That's what we're called.

"Isn't that a part of the human brain?" Percy asked.

A what?

"Never mind. Jeez, did Poseidon send you? You're beautiful… uh, handsome, I mean."

The hippocampus whinnied in appreciation. Thank you.

Percy mounted the hippocampus and patted his mane. "Come on. Let's go. Sea of Monsters. You know where that is, right?"

The animal nickered. Then he plunged into the ocean and sped off like Jet Skis.

Percy felt the exhilarating rush of wind fly by his face as the hippocampus sped southeast.

Percy yawned and looked up at the sky. The moon glistened high. There was still a lot of night left. If he wasn't so tired, he would have slapped himself across the face. He just left a place with the perfect supplies for a night shelter. He sighed and went back to the hut to rest for the night. He fell asleep as soon as he lay down.

In his dream, he was standing on a beautiful island in the middle of the sea. It had green fields and tropical fruit trees and white beaches. There was a beautiful ravine down the path, and in the meadow at its base, several dozen sheep were milling around. They looked peaceful enough, but they were huge—the size of hippos.

Percy turned around and gasped. At the top of the path, near the edge of the canyon, was a massive oak tree with a dazzling gold fleece glittering in its branches.

The Golden Fleece's power was vibrant. Even in his dream he could tell this whole island was feeding on its magic. How did it get into the Sea of Monsters? That had been a question that had sat in the back of his mind the entire time. Hadn't the Argonauts and Jason taken it back to Iolcus?

Percy turned back to the meadow at the bottom of the ravine and saw a deer emerge from the bushes. It trotted into the meadow, probably looking for grass to eat, when the sheep all bleated at once and rushed the animal. It happened so fast that the deer stumbled and was lost in a sea of wool and trampling hooves.

Grass and tufts of fur flew into the air.

A second later the sheep all moved away, back to their regular peaceful wanderings. Where the deer had been was a pile of clean white bones.

Percy stared in horror. He had to get through that to get the Golden Fleece?

Across the bridge that crossed the chasm, a huge boulder moved. Percy realized it was the door to a cave. A huge Cyclops stepped out. He looked like he was at least fifteen feet tall. The only clothing he wore was a faded purple T-shirt that said, "GRAND SHEEP EXPO 2001." The one-eyed giant climbed across the bridge of the chasm, and Percy got a closer look. It was a horrible sight. The Cyclops had jagged yellow teeth and gnarled hands as big as his entire body. He looked fat and overweight, and his eye was milky, like someone had stabbed it.

"Any new satyrs caught yet, sheepies?" the monster shouted.

He trampled down toward the sheep, who flocked all around him. Percy was hoping they'd eat him too, but unfortunately, they didn't. Suddenly, the Cyclops reached into the trees of the ravine and pulled out a satyr whose leg had been bitten off. Somehow, the sheep had enough intelligence to injure and not kill the satyrs. The satyr was unconscious or dead. Probably the latter because it didn't look like anyone bothered to bandage up his leg.

"Satyrs good eating!" said the monster before he began eating the satyr, raw and piece by piece.

Percy wanted to stop watching, but he couldn't. His dream eyes were wide open and would not close. He figured that satyr used to be at Camp Half-Blood and was just trying to find Pan like everyone else. The Golden Fleece was a dangerous weapon. If it had the power to lure satyrs out into the open ocean and keep this island beautiful and clean, it definitely had the power to heal Kronos.

Percy swallowed. That was a horrifying thought. A single item that had the power to mend a Titan who'd been sliced into a gazillion pieces.

"I am Polyphemus!" bellowed the Cyclops. "Poseidon's favorite Cyclops son! Thank you for giving me tasty treats to eat, father!"

The name clicked in Percy's head. Polyphemus was the name of the Cyclops that Odysseus had run into. And being the arrogant, cocky hero he was, Odysseus told the Cyclops his real name after tricking him into believing he was Nobody and stabbing him in the eye. Poseidon unleashed his wrath on Odysseus for the insult on his son, and it took Odysseus ten years to finally reach Ithaca after seven years of sleeping with a sorceress Calypso and three years of wandering after the Trojan War.

Percy wondered if Poseidon would strike him down if he fought Polyphemus.

"Bye, sheepies!" said Polyphemus. "See you tomorrow. Bye bye!"

Then he headed off back to his cave and shut the boulder behind him. The dream faded, and Percy woke with a start.

The more he learned about the quest, the less he wanted to go. But he felt the knife pressed to the back of his neck again. It was cold, sharp and deadly. Kronos wouldn't hesitate to get rid of him if he wasn't useful anymore. He had to do it. There was no other choice.

The entrance to the Sea of Monsters, the hippocampus said. Well, one of them. Wanna do a backflip before entering your doom?

"Thanks for the offer but no thanks." Percy stared out at the dark smudges in the distance. "So which entrance is this?"

Then the smudges came into focus. To the north, a huge mass of rock rose out of the sea—an island with cliffs at least a hundred feet tall. About half a mile south of that, the other patch of darkness was a storm brewing. The sky and sea boiled together in a roaring mass.

Scylla and Charybdis, said the hippocampus. The only way into the Sea of Monsters other than the Clashing Rocks. I'd rather be sucked up in a whirlpool than crushed to death.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Percy asked. "Can't you at least be positive?"

When you are positive, came the reply.

The son of Poseidon scowled. He changed the topic. "So, the story is that Charybdis sucks up the sea and spits it back out again, right?"

The hippocampus whinnied in agreement.

"And Scylla lives in those caves waiting for prey to come so her snaky heads can eat."

Another whinny of agreement.

"Great, it's death either way," he mumbled.

The hippocampus nickered, clearly happy he had been right about the negativity.

As they got closer to the monsters, the sound of Charybdis got louder and louder—a horrible wet roar like the galaxy's biggest toilet being flushed. Every time Charybdis inhaled, the current pulled them toward the whirlpool. Every time she exhaled, they rose in the water and were buffeted by ten-foot waves.

"Stop for a second," Percy told the hippocampus.

They stopped about two miles out from the monsters. Percy took the time to time the whirlpool. The best he could figure, it took Charybdis about three minutes to suck up and destroy everything within a half-mile radius. To avoid her, he'd have to skirt right next to Scylla's cliffs. And as bad as Scylla might've been, the cliffs were looking awfully good to him.

Maybe if he was a son of Zeus… then he would've gone for Scylla. As a son of Poseidon, his best bet was Charybdis.

Practice your powers in secret and prepare, Poseidon said in their first meeting. Percy was kind of glad he followed that advice.

He closed his eyes and focused on the sea. He remembered that the ocean was restless and powerful. It wouldn't often calm down. That was probably the hardest thing to be able to accomplish. He just needed to… bend it to his will somehow.

The tug in his gut was really strong. The longer he tried to concentrate, the more he strained. Water was a powerful force; he knew it. It flowed freely and smoothly, yet if it chose to be, it could be turbulent and forceful. Percy'd learned easily that water was the source of most, if not all, life on the planet. Other than the fact that naiads were pretty, humans settled along rivers because the naiads helped them live and survive.

Just like his eyes.

And Poseidon embodied the most moody of all sources of water. Percy was pretty much trying to control part of his dad's essence by trying to control the water. It was a weird thought.

"Into the whirlpool," Percy said, keeping his eyes closed. "Let's do this."

He tried hard not to think about the giant mouth that awaited them at the center of the whirlpool, though it wasn't that hard; just concentrating on controlling the water was enough.

The sudden pull when he and the hippocampus slid into the whirlpool nearly knocked him off the creature. His eyes opened in fright for a split second, and that was enough time for him to see Charybdis.

Through a swirl of mist and water, only a few hundred yards away, he saw the monster. In the middle of the maelstrom was an oddly peaceful thing: a reef—a black crag of coral with a fig tree clinging to the top. But anchored to the reef just below the waterline was the worst part. It was an enormous mouth with slimy lips and mossy teeth the size of rowboats. Worse, the teeth had braces, bands of corroded scummy metal with pieces of fish and driftwood and floating garbage stuck between them.

And that was also enough to make Percy feel a little sick. All she'd done for centuries was eat without brushing after her meals. The entire sea around her was sucked into the void—sharks, schools of fish, a giant squid. In a few seconds, he would be next.

He shut his eyes as he prepared to die. The frightening sight, and the roaring power of the water swirling around him… There was no way he could control the water in the whirlpool. It was too chaotic… too noisy. Charybdis was too powerful. The waves wouldn't respond.

They were getting closer to the mouth. 50 yards. 40… 30…

Suddenly, the mouth snapped shut. The sea died to absolute calm. Water washed over Charybdis.

"Oh, thank Tyche," Percy managed, before the mouth exploded open.

Just as quickly as her mouth had closed, she opened it and spat out a wall of water, ejecting everything inedible. So basically, the garbage that had been stuck to her teeth.

Percy was thrown forward, into the Sea of Monsters, on a wave that looked forty feet high. But the force of the wall of water had thrown him off his hippocampus, which he couldn't see anymore. He was hurtling toward the cliffs on the opposite side of the strait, but definitely not far enough to collide with the wall. He was twenty feet above sea level when he spotted his hippocampus, whinnying and flailing in the water pushed him away from the Sea of Monsters.

"Rainbow!" Percy shouted, having quickly thought of a random name. It was stupid, but it was the first word that came to mind when he thought of the beautiful hippocampus. "Rainbow!"

Suddenly, he felt sharp teeth imbedded in his left shoulder. He screamed in pain as he began to fly straight up, the wind whistling in his ears, the side of the cliff right next to his face.

Instinctively, Percy pulled out Riptide and swung it behind him. He managed to jab Scylla in her beady yellow eye. She grunted and dropped him.

He free fell into the ocean and was stunned to see that he was still alive, breathing, and other than his shoulder, well. But Charybdis wasn't done vomiting up her meal yet. The giant wave slammed into him, and he felt himself wash away.

Spinning in all directions, his head hit something hard.

The last thing he remembered was sinking in a cold, blue sea, the rushing currents of the water propelling him further into the Sea of Monsters, and the feeling that this was only the beginning of the pain and suffering. That there would be more to come.

I want to say a quick happy belated Independence Day to my American readers, and a belated happy Canada Day to Canadian readers. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and if there are any grammatical errors, I'd be grateful if you could point them out for me. Thanks.

SharkAttack719