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Good fighting with you, Seaweed Brain. Ditto.

Rick Riordan

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Rick Riordan
Age: 60
Born: 1964
Born: June 5
Author
Novelist
Teacher
Writer
Military City
USA
Richard Russell Riordan
Jr.
Richard Russell Riordan Jr
Brain
Fighting
Good
Ditto
Seaweed

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Now, you'll have to answer my questions. Oh, very well, Set said. I like Brazil for the World Cup. I'd advise investing in platinum and small-cap funds. And your lucky numbers this week are 2, 13-- Not those questions! Menshikov snapped.
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Destroy them later? Cal offered, which was probably as close to friendly as he ever got.
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Before I could lose my courage, I said, Don't I get a kiss for luck? It's kind of a tradition, right? I figured she would punch me. Instead, she drew her knife and stared at the army marching toward us. Come back alive, Seaweed Brain. Then, we'll see.
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He scowled at Jason. And please, I don't like being touched. Don't ever grab me again.
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The way Leo figured it, he spent more time crashing than he did flying. If there was a rewards card for frequent crashers, he'd be, like, double platinum level.
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I plucked a ruby off the nearest plant and threw it at Hades.
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The end of the world started when a pegasus landed on the hood of my car
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Oh no. I said panic rising in my chest. No, no, no, Somebody get a can opener. I've got a god in my head!!
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On a basketball court, five players were in the middle of an intense game. They wore assortment of jerseys from different American teams, and they all seemed keen to win—grunting and snarling at each other, stealing the ball and pushing. Oh…and the players were all baboons.
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He was slumped over, blood trickling from the side of his mouth. I shook his furry hip, thinking, No! Even if you are half barnyard animal, you're my best friend and I don't want you to die!
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I could hear hopefulness in her voice, but also doubt. She was waiting for me to admit the obvious: I’d forgotten. I was toast. I was boyfriend roadkill.
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What in the world are you thinking?” She sounded pretty flustered. “I try not to think,” Leo admitted. “It interferes with being nuts. Just concentrate on moving that Celestial bronze. Echo, you ready?
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I told Tantalus to go chase a doughnut.
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Annabeth came up to me. She was dressed in black camouflage with her Celestial bronze knife strapped to her arm and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder—ready for stabbing or surfing the Internet, whichever came first.
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They know they’ve won,” Carter guessed. “They’re making a show of it.” “Yes,” Amos said. “Well, let’s blow up the boats or something!” I said. Amos looked at me. “Is that your strategy, honestly?
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Don't stay in one place too long. It was the only way to stay ahead of the sadness.
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I'm not good with children, the god confessed. Or people. Well, any organic life forms, really.
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She deserved at least one person who saw her and knew how good she was.
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Met them. Killed them. Got the T-shirt.
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The thing about plummetting downhill at fifty miles an hour on a snack platter - if you realize it's a bad idea when you're halfway down, it's too late.
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