It was a sunny day on Camp Half-Blood, as always. Mr. D is on the porch of the Big House, in the middle of a pinochle game with Chiron. With a can of Diet Coke in one hand and a deck of cards in the other, he already seemed bothered before you approached the table. He looks up from his cards, watching you through furrowed brows, a disdain frown on his lips.

“What do you want?” He spit his words in a growl, upset by your disturbance.