Tyson, the fleece. Can you get it for me?'
'Which one?' Tyson said, looking around at the hundreds of sheep.
'In the tree!' I said. 'The gold one!'
'Oh. Pretty. Yes.

Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general I. The armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead you breathren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new...um...what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?"
"Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club.
"Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found."
"Hooray!

Ella was fluttering above him, dodging missiles and calling out advice: "The groin. The Earthborn's groin is sensitive."
SMASH!
"Good. Yes. Tyson found its groin.

Percy!” he bellowed. He dropped his broom and ran at me. If you’ve never been charged by an enthusiastic Cyclops wearing a flowered apron and rubber cleaning gloves, I’m telling you, it’ll wake you up quick.

Tyson dropped the two warriors he was about to tie into a knot and jogged after us. He jumped on the centaur's back.
'Dude!' the centaur groaned, almost buckling under Tyson's weight. 'Do the words "low-carb diet" mean anything to you?

Annabeth looked at me. " We have to get out of here."
" You think I want to be in the girls' restroom?"
" I mean the ship, Percy! We have to get off the ship."
" Smells bad," Tyson agreed. " And dogs eat all the eggs. Annabeth is right. We must leave the restroom and the ship.