Praise me, demigods!
I made you this helpful film.
Trust me. It's awesome.
- Haiku by Apollo introducing his orientation film Welcome to Camp Half-Blood
Trust me. The film
was more awful
than awesome. -D.C.
Movie Night
by Dream Clayton
Hey, everybody. Dream Clayton here. You might know me as the guy who helped save the world from total destruction- twice, but who's counting? I like to think of myself as just another Greek demigod lucky enough to have found Camp Half-Blood.
If you can read this, then surprise! You're probably a demigod too. That's because only demigods- and a few special mortals, like my mom and Minx Rebecca Dare- can read what's written here. To everyone else, this book is called The Complete History of Pavement and it's about... well, that should be obvious. You can thank the Mist for that choice of topic.
So, demigod, chances are you're making your way to camp with your satyr guide. Or maybe you've already arrived and are reading this with the hope that it'll calm your nerves. I'd say there's a fifty-fifty chance of that happening.
But I'm getting off topic. (I do that. I have ADHD. Bet you know what that's like.) What um supposed to do is explain the story behind this book.
A few months ago, Chiron- he's the immortal centaur who's also our camp activities director- was called away to rescue two unclaimed demigods and their satyr guide. (The satyr had gotten himself into a sticky situation. It took him days to get his fur clean.) Anyways, Argus, our resident security guard and part-time chauffeur, drove Chiron on this mission because, well, can you imagine a centaur driving an SUV? (You can? Hm. Maybe you're a child of Hypnos and saw it in a dream.) Our camp director, Mr. D (aka Dionysus, the god of wine), was MIA, so that left us demigods on our own.
"Don't destroy Half-Blood while we're gone," was Chiron's parting instruction. Argus pointed two fingers at his eyes and then us. This took a few minutes since he has a hundred eyes, but we got the message- be good, or else.
We went about our usual routines- combat practice, volleyball practice, archery practice, strawberry-picking practice (don't ask), lava-wall-climbing practice... You'll find we practice a lot here. We would have spent the evening in the usual way, too, with a campfire singalong, if not for an offhand comment Fundy di Angelo dropped at dinner. We were talking about what changes each of us would make if we ran the camp, and Fundy said:
"First thing I'd do is make sure the poor newbie demigods don't have to suffer through the orientation film."
All conversation stopped. "What orientation film?" 5up Solace asked.
Fundy looked puzzled. "You know..." He glanced side to side, clearly uncomfortable with everybody watching him. Finally he cleared his throat and sang in a warbly voice to the tune of "The Hokey Pokey": "It lets the demigods in! It keeps the monsters out! It keeps the half-bloods safe, but turns mortals all about! It's Misty, and it's magic, and it makes me want to shout: the border is all about!" He punctuated the last line of the song with some halfhearted claps.
We stared at him in stunned silence.
"Fundy." 5up patted his boyfriend's arm. "You're scaring the other campers."
