Chapter 36.5: Apollo Hates Banjos
Percy leaned back in his seat, setting down his empty Coke bottle with a satisfied sigh. The campfire crackled, casting flickering golden light over the gathered demigods, who were all hanging on to his every word. Even Annabeth, who usually pretended not to enjoy his stories, was giving him her full attention, her arms crossed but her eyes sharp with curiosity.
"Alright," Percy said, stretching out his legs, "I've got time for one more story before I have to go. And this one? It's about how I learned that Apollo—our beloved, music-obsessed, golden boy god—hates banjos. And I don't mean, like, he's mildly annoyed by them. I mean loathes them. With a deep, burning, all-consuming divine rage."
Will Solace frowned. "Wait, what? That doesn't make sense. Dad loves music. He plays literally everything. I've even seen him play the pan flute!"
"Yeah, that's what I thought too!" Percy said, throwing his hands up. "I figured, Hey, he's the god of music, right? Surely he doesn't have anything against a simple instrument. But nope. Turns out there is one exception. And I found this out completely by accident—while drunk, thanks to Hermes."
There was a collective groan from the campers.
"Of course it was Hermes," Annabeth muttered, rubbing her temples.
"You got drunk?!" Chiron, who had been listening from nearby, suddenly spoke up, his eyebrows furrowing in disappointment.
Percy winced. "Uh—not on purpose! Hermes spiked my Coke! And believe me, we got him back for it later. Really got him back," he added with a smirk.
Some of the Hermes cabin kids exchanged nervous glances, clearly wondering just how bad the revenge had been.
But anyway," Percy continued, "I was out wandering around New York in a very questionable state of mind when I passed this music store. And there, right in the window, was a banjo. And for some reason, I decided that buying it was the best idea ever. Because, y'know, when you're not thinking straight, logic completely disappears."
By now, most of the campers were either laughing or shaking their heads. Even Chiron sighed, looking like he was debating whether to intervene or just let the story play out.
"So I buy the thing—no idea how I managed that—and when I get back to the Sun Garage, I start playing. Or, well, attempting to. No clue what I was doing, but in my head? I was amazing. Jamming out, having the time of my life. Then, Apollo walks in."
Percy paused for dramatic effect.
"I have never—never—seen a god move that fast. One second he's outside, the next, BOOM, he's right in front of me, eyes wide, panic all over his face. And the moment he sees the banjo in my hands, he just screams—like full-on, NOPE, NOPE, ABSOLUTELY NOT!—and rips it away from me."
Will's jaw dropped. "You're joking."
"I wish I was," Percy said. "But no. He yanks the thing from my hands and just obliterates it. First, he slams it on the ground—hard. Then he picks it up and does it again. And again. And again. Like some kind of rage-filled rockstar, except there's no cheering audience—just me, staring in absolute shock. Then, once it's been thoroughly smashed to pieces, he stomps on it. And just when I think he's done? Nope! He incinerates it to ashes with a full-powered sun blast."
The campers were howling with laughter now. Even Annabeth was snickering, though she tried to cover it up behind her hand.
But here's the best part," Percy continued, grinning. "After reducing it to actual dust, he scoops up what's left—whatever tiny particles survived—and tosses them into Tartarus."
Silence.
Then—
"HE WHAT?!" Will screeched.
"He threw the ashes into Tartarus," Percy repeated, nodding. "Like it was some kind of cursed artifact that had to be locked away in the deepest pits of hell."
"That—" Cecil from the Hermes cabin gasped between laughs. "That is insane!"
"Oh, it gets better," Percy said, leaning forward. "Because I'm pretty sure he cursed it before he chucked it in."
The laughter stopped.
"What?" Annabeth asked, eyes narrowing.
"Yeah," Percy said. "Like, as he was killing it, I swear I heard him muttering in Ancient Greek under his breath. And let me tell you, the only time gods mutter Ancient Greek is when they're either casting a spell, cursing something, or making some kind of eternal vow. So… yeah." He clapped his hands together. "I guess that means at some point, an Apollo-hating, vengeance-seeking banjo monster is gonna crawl out of Tartarus, looking for revenge."
He turned to the Apollo cabin kids, flashing them a wide grin. "Sooo… I guess you guys have that to look forward to in your future. At least you'll know where it came from when you have to fight it."
Will's face was frozen in absolute horror. "Oh. My. Gods."
Kayla buried her face in her hands. "We're doomed."
Austin groaned. "Oh no, this is gonna be like that time Dad went on a rampage over that one guy playing country music wrong, isn't it?"
"I knew I should have chosen Poseidon's cabin," one of the younger Apollo kids muttered.
"To be fair," Percy said, shrugging, "I could be wrong. Maybe it was just him angrily ranting about how much he hates banjos. Maybe there's no cursed vengeful banjo monster."
The campers all exchanged wary looks.
"Or maybe," Annabeth said dryly, "we should all start preparing just in case."
Percy grinned. "Probably a good idea. Just imagine it—one day, years from now, some brave demigod is gonna be on a quest and suddenly—BOOM! Out of nowhere, a flaming, screaming banjo monster is gonna attack them. And you know what it'll say?"
He cleared his throat and, in his best dramatic monster voice, snarled:
"THE SUN GOD WILL PAY FOR HIS SINS!"
That was it. Camp Half-Blood exploded into laughter. People were rolling on the ground, clutching their sides. Will was shaking his head in pure disbelief, muttering, "This is my life now," while Annabeth just sighed, rubbing her temples.
Percy just leaned back with a satisfied smirk. "So yeah. That's how I found out Apollo hates banjos. If anyone ever gets the chance to play one in front of him… well, I won't stop you. But I will be recording it."