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The Lightning Fart: A Parody of The Lightning Thief: Chapter 4

I MEET A GRUMPY GUY WHO THINKS HE’S A GOD

The next thing I remember I was lying in a soft bed, being spoon-fed by a really pretty blonde girl. The stuff she was feeding me looked like pudding, but tasted like buttered popcorn. It could’ve tasted like rotten eggs for all I cared, because she was hot.

I racked my brain and came up with a great opening line. But when I tried to speak, my mouth barely moved. I must’ve been on pain medication or something. So instead of smooth lines that swept the girl off her feet, all that came out was, “Would … like … to … pop … your … corn.”

“Shhhh, don’t strain yourself,” said the girl. “You need to recover before the summer solstice deadline so you can help us.”

Good grief, her with the “summer solstice deadline” too? Wasn’t anyone in the world normal anymore besides me? But I didn’t really care how nuts she was, because she was hot.

“Yes … solstice … deadline … important,” I said, and fell back to sleep.

I woke up on the porch of a large house overlooking a meadow. Unfortunately, instead of the hot blonde, Grover was now with me, wearing a bright orange T-shirt that said CAMP HALF-WIT.

“Thanks for saving my life last night,” said Grover. “I thought the least I could do in return was go back and get you a little keepsake from your battle with the minotaur.” He handed me a small box, and I opened it to reveal the bull guy’s New York State driver’s license. He was wearing his bull mask in the picture, and it turned out his real name was Frank Minotarski.

“Thanks,” I said, and put the box down on a table. I noticed that next to the box was a glass of what looked like apple juice. I picked it up and took a sip. It was definitely not apple juice—in fact, it was something way better: it tasted exactly like my mom’s fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies.

I grabbed Grover by the collar and started shaking him. “You stole my mom’s recipe for chocolate chip cookies and made a drink out of it!” I shouted. “And then you had her killed so she wouldn’t sue you!”

“No, Percy, it’s called nectar!” Grover said. “It tastes different for everybody—like whatever your favorite food is.”

“Oh, my bad,” I said, letting him go. “What’s it taste like for you?”

“Grass,” he said. “And once in a while, dirt.”

I drank some more. “Whoa, easy there!” said Grover. “You don’t want to have more than a couple sips of that stuff!”

But I’d already chugged the entire glass. “What’s the problem?” I said.

“You basically just ate 187 chocolate chip cookies,” he said. I began to feel more nauseous than I’d ever felt in my life.

Grover started walking away and beckoned me to follow. “Come on,” he said, “I gotta introduce you to the camp director.” Director? Sounded like someone important. I hoped I could keep from throwing up on him.

As we turned the corner of the house, I caught my breath. It looked like there was a summer camp going on in the middle of Ancient Greece. There were a bunch of white marble buildings with huge columns, and kids doing summer camp activities like archery, volleyball, and swimming. Yikes, I thought, what kind of weirdos would build this place? It was even more disturbing when I noticed that a bunch of the kids had horns and hooves like Grover.

“Percy, you’re awake!” a familiar voice said. I turned and saw Mr. Brunner in his wheelchair on the porch. He was playing cards with a chubby guy in a Hawaiian shirt and the hot blonde girl who’d spoon-fed me.

“Mr. Brunner? You’re here too?”

“Actually, my real name is Chiron,” he said. “‘Mr. Brunner’ was just the identity I assumed so I could work at Yancy and see if you were Camp Half-Wit material.”

“Hold on, you only taught at Yancy because you wanted to observe me?” I said.

“Do you think I like being surrounded by kids all day?” he said. “Do you think any teacher does?”

It seemed like every minute I was finding out something new about these people that made them seem even crazier. Assuming false identities? Taking jobs just to recruit people into their group? This was serious wacko cult stuff going on. I couldn’t believe I’d drunk their “cookie juice” so freely. I really needed to be more careful.

“Percy, I believe you’ve met Annabeth?” said Chiron, pointing at the hot blonde girl. Oh yes I had. I knew I’d dug a bit of a hole in my first interaction with her, so it was time to go to work. “‘Sup girl?” I said, sauntering over to her. “Not sure if you heard, but last night I killed the minotaur. Whaddya say we roll out of here and I can tell you about it over pizza?”

 “If you kids do leave the grounds, could you stop by the store and pick me up a bottle of Chardonnay?” It was the chubby guy in the Hawaiian shirt, and he was holding out a twenty-dollar bill.

Chiron snatched the twenty away. “Mr. D, you know you’re not allowed to have any wine,” Chiron said.

“You mean I’m not allowed to have any fun,” said the chubby guy.

“Percy, meet our Camp Director, Mr. D,” Chiron said.

“Welcome to Camp Dim-Wit,” said Mr. D unenthusiastically.

“Half-Wit,” said Chiron.

“Whatever,” said Mr. D.

“Mr. D, how about we get back to our pinochle game?” said Chiron.

“Oh goodie!” said Mr. D, picking up his cards. “Pinochle is so fun! It’s wayyyyy more fun than drinking wine!”

“Excuse me, but what is this place?” I said. “And why did you pick me to be here?”

“We scout schools all over the world and watch for students who seem to be special,” Chiron said. “Your badness at schoolwork exceeded that of all other humans we’d ever seen in three thousand years of scouting. It made us suspect that you might be something other than human.”

Other than human?” I said. The crazy meter of these people was going off the charts.

“Percy, did your mom not tell you anything?” Chiron said.

“The only thing she told me was that this was a summer camp, which I knew really meant summer school.”

Chiron laughed and shook his head. “It’s time for you to learn the truth,” he said. “Camp Half-Wit is a training camp for kids who are half-gods.”

“Half-what?” I said.

“Gods,” Chiron said. “You know, like Zeus, Hera, Apollo? One of your parents, your mom, was a human, and the other was a god. That makes you a half-god.”

“Hahahaha, good one!” I said. “No really, what is this place?”

“I wasn’t joking,” said Chiron. “We train you here to use your divine powers. At the moment, you don’t know how to use them at all, which is why we call you a Half-Wit.”

“Oh come on,” I said. “I’m a half-god? You can’t tell me you actually believe this.”

They all just stared at me.

“Guys, I hate to burst your bubble,” I said, “but gods aren’t real. They’re just the invention of people who are trying to explain natural occurrences they have no control over.”

Thunder roared and the ground shook. “The gods appear to disagree with you,” said Mr. D.

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about!” I said. “Thunder is a totally natural occurrence, but you’re using this made-up idea of a god to explain it.”

It thundered even more loudly.

“Watch, now you’re gonna do it again,” I said.

Mr. D’s cheeks turned red with anger. “I can’t take these kids anymore,” he grumbled. “I need a drink.”

Mr. D waved his hand and a goblet appeared out of thin air. He then snapped his fingers, and the goblet started filling up with wine.

 Chiron gave me a look. “Still skeptical?” he said.

“Ooooooo, a magic trick with wine,” I said. “I’m sooooo convinced there are gods now.”

Mr. D lifted the goblet to take a sip, but Chiron took it away. “Mr. D, your restrictions!” said Chiron.

Mr. D rolled his eyes and reluctantly waved his hand again, and the glass of wine turned into a can of Diet Coke. Chiron gave it back to him.

“I think I’m gonna cry,” said Mr. D.

“Why isn’t he allowed to have wine?” I asked.

“Because he got a CUI: chariot-driving under the influence,” said Chiron. “Mr. D caused a big accident and destroyed several cumulonimbus clouds. Now he’s acting as camp director as a way of fulfilling his 50,000 hours of community service.”

“Hold on, are you’re saying he’s a God?” I said, pointing at Mr. D.

Chiron nodded.

“Who is he, Drunkos, God of Getting Loaded?”

Thunder rumbled again.

Chiron buried his head in his hands. “See, this is why I wish you’d done your reading,” he said. “Don’t you remember in class how we talked about a god associated with wine?”

I nodded, not wanting to admit I didn’t.

“Okay, so which God is Mr. D?”

“Uh…”

“Mr. D,” said Chiron, giving me a hint.

“D…D…sorry, the nectar gave me a brain freeze,” I said. “Can you give me another hint?”

“Di,” said Chiron.

“Di…Di…Di…”

“O…” said Chiron.

“Diohhhh…Diohhhh…brain still freezing…”

“Ni…” said Chiron.

“Diohni!” I shouted. “He’s Diohni, the God of Wine!”

Thunder roared again.

“Um, no Percy, he’s Dionysus,” said Chiron.

“You’re sure doing a fine job teaching these students,” said Mr. D.

“Hang on,” I said. “If Mr. D is a god, what’s he doing in America? Shouldn’t he be in Greece or in the sky or something?”

“Many of the gods are right here in America,” said Chiron. “Just look around and you’ll see the signs. For instance, what’s the symbol of America? An eagle—the same eagle that’s the symbol of Zeus. And how do you think Greek yogurt completely took over the American yogurt market in less than two years? Do you really think that happened naturally?”

“Well if there are gods, then why—”

“Pardon me,” said Mr. D. “I’d love to keep listening to this debate about whether I exist, but I need to speak with Grover about his performance as Percy’s Keeper. And then I’m going to lock myself in my room and imagine I’m no longer working here. Chiron, will you please show Percy his bunk in Cabin 11?”

“Right away,” said Chiron. Then much to my surprise, he rose up out of his wheelchair. But even more surprising was what I saw when the blanket that had been covering Chiron’s legs fell off: the lower half of Chiron’s body was the body of a horse.

He was an even bigger freak than Grover!

Chiron noticed me staring. “Yes Percy,” he said, “I’m a centaur. Half-man, half horse.”

“What’s with all the half-men, half-some other animal?” I said. “Are there like no other possibilities for creatures? How about dividing them into thirds? Or a half-man, half-iPad? Whoever’s making these things, stop being so lazy and start showing a little creativity!”

The loudest thunder yet rumbled.

“Let’s go, Percy, before you get us all vaporized,” said Chiron, and he led me off to the cabins.


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