Chapter 18

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Alright not a real chapter, I used a plot generator. Should I write a minecraft book but there is no romance mostly survival and fighting. Write in comments yes or no.

Percy Jackson was thinking about Piper McLean again. Piper was a defensive queen with beautiful eye and sturdy hair.

Percy walked over to the window and reflected on his stunning surroundings. He had always loved big New Rome with its tame, teeny-tiny trees. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a defensive figure of Piper McLean.

Percy gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a lean, handsome, nectar drinker with tan eye and windswept hair. His friends saw him as an annoying, abundant angel. Once, he had even saved a dull Nico that was stuck in a drain.

But not even a lean person who had once saved a dull Nico that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what Piper had in store today.

The snow flurried like hugging dogs, making Percy ecstatic. Percy grabbed a silver vodka that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Percy stepped outside and Piper came closer, he could see the curved glint in his eye.

Piper gazed with the affection of 2436 muscular weary wolfs. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want love."

Percy looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the silver vodka. "Piper, I love food," he replied.

They looked at each other with cheerful feelings, like two cloudy, colorful cats flying at a very loyal party, which had pop music playing in the background and two smart uncles swimming to the beat.

Percy regarded Piper's beautiful eye and sturdy hair. "I feel the same way!" revealed Percy with a delighted grin.

Piper looked intelligent, his emotions blushing like a regurgitated, red Riptide.

Then Piper came inside for a nice drink of nectar.

THE END

Banana Chicken had always loved hungry Mushroom Cheese with its cooing, curly cheese. It was a place where she felt fries.

She was a nachos, round, vodkavodkavodkavodka drinker with tender feet and fried hands. Her friends saw her as a leaking, large Louis vuitton. Once, she had even rescued a filthy vodka from a burning building. That's the sort of woman he was.

Banana walked over to the window and reflected on her french surroundings. The meatballs teased like fart cow.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Vodka Drunk. Vodka was a stupid channel with salty feet and soft hands.

Banana gulped. She was not prepared for Vodka.

As Banana stepped outside and Vodka came closer, she could see the rotten glint in his eye.

"Look Banana," growled Vodka, with a square glare that reminded Banana of stupid human. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want coconuts. You owe me 724 fish."

Banana looked back, even more soda and still fingering the pizza KFC. "Vodka, I love coconuts because I am turkey," she replied.

They looked at each other with fat feelings, like two large, late lamb duck at a very friendly wedding, which had pigstep music playing in the background and two witty uncles drink to the beat.

Banana regarded Vodka's salty feet and soft hands. "I don't have the funds ..." she lied.

Vodka glared. "Do you want me to shove that pizza KFC where the sun don't shine?"

Banana promptly remembered her nachos and round values. "Actually, I do have the funds," she admitted. She reached into her pockets. "Here's what I owe you."

Vodka looked burger, his wallet blushing like a magnificent, muddy Mcdonald.

Then Vodka came inside for a nice drink of vodkavodkavodkavodka.

THE END

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