CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
We Shop For Water Beds
I don't own Percy Jackson.
It was Will who pried the newspaper out of her hands.
"Come on," he muttered to her frozen form. "We need to get out of here."
But Percy's mind had completely blanked. For the first time in a while, she felt a sudden urge to cry—she wanted to scream at the gods, at the Fates, at whoever was responsible for making their quest so much more difficult than it needed to be. If her father had loved her, if Apollo had loved Will, why did neither of them help? Why did they allow them to be trapped in the casino? Her grip tightened, almost ripping the paper in half.
She blinked back the tears. There was no use in crying about it. Crying only wasted time—time that was more precious than anything anymore. She turned to Will.
"We need to get to Los Angeles," she said, though it seemed obvious.
Will thought about it, before his eyes lit up. "Come on."
He ran for the edge of the street, waving his hand, hailing a Las Vegas taxi while Percy and Grover glanced at each other blankly. They had no money. Will might not have been in the mortal realm for four years, but surely he knew something about the mortal economy?
"Come on," he said when a taxi pulled in front of them.
Percy and Grover reluctantly crawled in, wondering what master plan Will would conjure now.
"Los Angeles, please," Will said to the driver after settling in beside Percy.
The cabbie frowned through his rearview mirror. "That's three hundred miles. You'll have to pay up front for that."
His tone clearly doubted their capacity for more than five dollars, but Will triumphantly held up his green LotusCashcard and handed it to a disbelieving cabbie.
"Try it," Will said.
He did.
His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign.
The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at the group, eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles... uh, Your Highness?"
Will blinked, looking as shocked as Grover and Percy felt at the symbol, but recovered and said, "The Santa Monica pier. Get us there fast, and we'll double the fare."
Maybe he shouldn't have told him that.
The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert.
After requesting the driver put up the divider, Percy whispered the rest of her dream to Will and Grover, but she couldn't remember it anymore. She couldn't remember what the invisible servant's voice sounded like, though she was sure it was someone she knew. They had used some sort of special title too, not just "my lord..."
"Silent One?" Will asked. "Rich One?"
Percy hesitated. "I don't know. Maybe. But they don't sound right."
"Well, the throne room sounds like Hades'," Grover said. "At least, how it's usually described."
"But the throne room was like a background. And the voice from the pit... it didn't feel like Hades'. Not like a god's. More ancient. More powerful."
Will had gone completely still next to her.
Percy frowned at him. "What?"
"No," he whispered, but it was mostly to himself. "That's not possible."
"What?"
"If that thing in the pit isn't Hades..." Then Will seemed to remember himself because he shook his head. "No. It has to be Hades. You saw the spirits of the dead, and there's only one place they can be. The Underworld has to be the answer. So he sent this thief to get the bolt, but something went wrong—we don't know what—and he failed to bring it to Hades. That would explain why the Furies were after us." Then he frowned. "But that doesn't explain why they attacked us when we're going to them anyway."
"But I wouldn't be going to the Underworld if I wasn't looking for the bolt."
"Unless you had it in your possession," Grover said. "Hades probably thinks you'll use it to threaten, bribe, or blackmail him to get your mom back."
"But even with the bolt accounted for," Will added, "there's still the issue of the second object. Nobody else reported any thefts."
"Unless they were too scared," Percy said. "Or didn't think anybody would help them anyway. Or whatever was stolen is even more dangerous than the bolt and the gods didn't want it getting out."
Will looked frustrated, shaking his head, as if angry with himself for not having figured everything out. Percy knew what everybody was thinking—somehow, even if the Underworld was the answer, Hades wasn't. There was something even darker at play, something more dangerous, but they didn't have time to figure it out. They had just over a day to find the bolt and return it. If Hades didn't have it, it would be too late.
"Percy..." Will hesitated. "That voice, that servant's voice... are you sure you don't remember it?"
She shook her head. "No. Why?"
"Because... well..." He shot a look at Grover, and Percy realized what he was about to say before he said it. "I was thinking it might be Luke."
Grover sighed loudly. "Will—"
"It's just a theory," Will countered. "I'm not saying it is. But he was there, he had access to Annabeth's cap, and it's obvious he hates the gods."
Percy didn't want to believe it either. Even with Will making so many good points against him, Luke had been one of the first people to make her feel welcomed. He had been kind to her when he didn't need to be, pushed her to do her best, brushed off all the whispers about her...
She tried to think back to the voice. It did sound like Luke's, she conceded, but if she thought hard enough, it sounded like Will or Grover's too. Even her own. There was no use in trying to reach for a memory that just wasn't there.
"I don't know," she said at last. "Maybe. I don't remember."
Will must've noticed the frustration in her voice. "It's okay. We'll figure it out later."
He tried for a convincing smile, but even his normally-cheerful attitude couldn't cover the anxious look in his eyes. There was something he wasn't telling her, something that seemed to scare him more than Hades... She remembered the absolute terror on his face when she had suggested it. Percy decided she didn't want to know what, or who, could scare even Will.
As they sat in silence, Percy thought back to the conversation she had with Will, through the Iris-message—about how Camp Half-Blood was becoming the battleground of Troy all over again. Had the campers outright declared sides, or was it composed of unspoken alliances? Were fights breaking out, or were Mr D and Chiron able to keep the campers mostly in check?
A sudden thought struck her and she snuck a glance at Will, frowning. If Athena was backing Zeus and Apollo Poseidon, that meant Annabeth and Will would be on opposite sides. Annabeth, one of Will's best friends. Even if Percy didn't love the girl, she still felt a rush of guilt—it wasn't her fault Olympian justice made no sense, but she didn't want to deprive Will of another friend. Not when he had admitted to her that he didn't trust very many of them.
She tried to think of something else—anything else—but her mind then drifted to thoughts of their quest and she grimaced.
"Percy?"
Will's voice drew her from her thoughts.
She glanced at Will, startled, as he continued, "Your prophecy had more than just two lines, right?"
Ice cold water washed down her spine. He hadn't even asked her for the lines and she had already tensed, ready for him to start prying the answer out of her. But a moment passed, and then another, and several more came and went before she realized that Will was waiting for her to decide whether or not she wanted to answer. He opened the topic but he was letting her take control.
Because he was a good friend, as was Grover, and neither of them would've forced her to answer a question she wasn't ready to answer just yet.
"Yeah," Percy settled on saying quietly, "but I can't talk about it."
Will just nodded and Grover gave her a comforting look, and though it wasn't much, it still made her feel better. She'd have to tell them soon, of course, but that wasn't the priority now. Grover leaned back, closing his eyes, and it seemed to strike an idea in Will, because he took his ukulele in his hands and began plucking a melody, humming quietly. Within a minute, Grover had begun snoring, and Percy's own eyes had gotten heavy. As soon as Grover had fallen asleep, Will stopped, though Percy still felt drowsy.
"Percy..." Will hesitated. "I'm sorry."
"What?"
"About Luke."
She frowned. "What about him?"
"I just... I know you like him. And so does Grover. And I've been thinking... I don't like Luke. I don't trust him. You both know that. But it's unfair of me to try and turn you against him. He's both your friends, and talking about him behind his back without him being here to defend himself is low. So I'm sorry."
"I don't know what to think," Percy admitted honestly. "Yeah, Luke is cool, but I haven't known him long enough to have an opinion."
"Then you should come to your own conclusions, not base it off my inductions. I just..." He pursed his lips. "I know I'm in the wrong here, but I don't know what to do. I don't want Luke around people I care about, but I also know I can't force people to listen to me."
"Is it just that?"
Will stopped, like he knew what she was asking.
"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to—"
"You're right," he said. "It's personal too."
"Annabeth?"
Will blinked. "What?"
"You're angry with him about Annabeth, right? That she likes him?"
He hesitated. "Yeah. I don't like how he treats her. We both care about her but he's showing it in a funny way. He knows it, too."
"Annabeth can take care of herself."
Will settled on a small smile. "That she can."
For a moment, the two sat in silence, before Will said, "Get some sleep, Percy. I'll wake you up when we get there."
Percy wanted to protest, but Will didn't let her. He began strumming his ukulele again, softing singing a lullaby in Ancient Greek, and before she knew it, her eyes had closed.
This time, she had no dreams.
True to his word, Will was shaking her awake several hours later, hair awash in the golden glow of the setting sun, though he looked tired—judging from his expression, he too had fallen asleep. From beside her, Grover was stretching, his yawn sounding suspiciously like a bleat, almost, but if the taxi driver noticed, he said nothing. Bidding him farewell and their thanks, the three groggily climbed out of the car.
Percy had never been to California before, but the Santa Monica beach looked almost exactly what she expected—carnival rides lined the pier, palm trees swaying in the summer breeze, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave. In fact, if it hadn't been for the questionable smell, she would've thought this place was perfect. Beach, sun, and city.
"Percy!"
Will's voice jolted her somewhat to the present. She realized that, almost in a trance, she had been walking toward the ocean, leaving her friends behind. There was something there calling to her, though; like the echo of a voice beckoning her forth. An ocean longing whispered her name, pulling her within the soft embrace of the sea foam.
With difficulty, Percy managed to plant her heels in the sand.
"Sorry," she said, but she only half heard herself. "Guess I got too excited."
Her eyes hungrily took in the Pacific in all its glory, from the glittering currents to rhythmic waves. This was her first, and very possibly last, time she would ever see this side of the ocean. To think that, just weeks before, she had been standing on the beach at Montauk, on the other side of the country, staring out into the Atlantic. No matter which way she went, the sea would always be there.
It was almost unsettling, in a way. How could she be the daughter of someone so powerful?
"I guess we'll need to come up with a plan," Will began, but Percy cut him off.
"No. I think I understand."
She stepped into the ocean.
"Percy!" Will said in alarm, but as soon as he tried to go after her, the waves came crashing down at his feet, making him yelp and scramble backwards. "Percy, what are you doing?"
"I'll meet you back here," she called back, still walking forward.
"Do you know how polluted that water is? There are all kinds of toxic—"
And then a wave swallowed her and Will's voice.
For the first minute, Percy held her breath. Despite the Mississippi River incident, she wasn't sure if that was a one-time gift. But her lungs began burning, and without meaning to, she gasped. To her relief (and surprise), she could breathe normally.
That wasn't the only thing she noticed, though. As she walked into the shoals, she realized that she could tell where everything was, even with the murk and dark. She could sense the rolling texture of the bottom, see the sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars, and even the currents, warm and cold streams swirling together.
And then she noticed a dark shape swimming toward her; she squinted, and almost shot out of the water—it was a six-foot-long mako shark.
But just as fast as she tensed, she relaxed. Somehow, she knew it wasn't going to attack her. Indeed, when it finally reached her side, it nuzzled her, like a dog, and when she touched its dorsal fin tentatively, it bucked, as if inviting her to hold on.
She did.
The shark took off, carrying her down into the darkness and stopping at the edge of the ocean proper, the end of the sand bank. Before her dropped a huge chasm, as black as ink. The surface was shimmering perhaps a hundred and fifty feet above her. She knew she should've been crushed by the pressure, but she also should've drowned by now. Was there a limit to how far she could go? Could she sink to the bottom of the Pacific?
"Percy Jackson."
The voice had Percy's head snapping back down again.
It sounded almost like her mother.
It was indeed a woman, riding atop of a stallion-sized sea horse, with flowing black hair and a silk green dress, an aura of power flickering around her. Percy found herself staring at the woman, even when she reached her and dismounted.
"You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done."
She smiled at Percy, who didn't know what to do other than bow. "You spoke to me in the Mississippi River."
"Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court."
"And... you serve in Poseidon's court?"
She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born, and even more since it has been a daughter. We have watched you with great interest."
As she spoke, a strange memory came to Percy's mind—faces in the waves of Montauk Beach when she was a child, like the reflections of smiling women. She had never given it much thought before.
"But my father," Percy said, and then hesitated. "Where is he? Why is he not here?"
The Nereid pursed her lips. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism. It is against the Ancient Laws."
"Even to their own children?"
"Especially to them. The gods can work by indirect influence only. That is why I give you a warning, and a gift."
She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm.
"I know you journey to Hades's realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great musical skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?"
"Um... no, ma'am."
"Ah, but you have something else, Percy. You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to womanhood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."
"What will happen?"
"That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."
"What about the warning?"
Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you distrust your own judgment. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave. Keep faith. Good luck, Percy Jackson."
She summoned her sea horse and rode towards the void.
It took a few moments for Percy to remember the question she had been burning to ask since their last encounter.
"Wait!" she called. "You said not to trust the gifts. What gifts?"
But the Nereid was already a speck of glowing green, and when Percy blinked, she was gone.
Percy wanted to follow her. She wanted to see the court of Poseidon, to see her father, to ask him all the questions she had. But she looked up at the darkening sun. Her friends were waiting for her.
With difficulty, she turned from the chasm and kicked back to shore.
Grover saw her first.
"Perrrrrcy!"
He launched himself into the ocean and hugged her furiously. Will's head snapped up, but as soon as he made to follow Grover, the waves crashed down onto the sand again and he yelped, stumbling backwards. The sight was so ridiculous (and some other strange emotion Percy couldn't identify) that she found herself laughing.
"Percy!" Will chose to yell instead. "If you do that again, I will stab you, do you understand?"
"Crystal!" she called back.
When she returned to dry land, however, Will did not stab her, but instead launched himself onto her, hugging her so tightly she thought her ribs were going to burst. And then he pulled away quickly, something unidentifiable flashing across his face.
"Don't be stupid again," he said.
"But it worked out this time."
She showed them the pearls, expecting them to at least be somewhat glad they had an escape route, but Will only grimaced, Percy's idiotic previous stunt now vanished from his mind.
"Percy, no gift comes without a price. Sometimes it doesn't directly affect us, but with such an open gift... just look out, okay?"
Percy wished that something would go right on this quest for once. "Okay."
With some spare change from Ares' backpack, the three of them took the bus into West Hollywood, where Will had theorized the Underworld Entrance would be.
"Beverly Hills or Bel Air," he had explained. "If I were a god, that's where I'd want to be."
Unfortunately, none of them knew exactly where it was—even the LA natives were stumped, which Percy discovered when she showed the bus driver the address slip she'd taken from Medusa.
"Never heard of it," he said, and then he paused, choosing to squint at her. "You a child actor or something? I feel like I've seen you on T-V."
"Oh," Will cut in smoothly, as if he knew Percy was about to start panicking. "She's a stunt double, for a lot of child actors. Just about to get her first big break."
When Will pulled them off at the next stop, none of them complained.
They wandered for miles, looking for the DOA Recording Studios, but how could they find a place nobody knew existed? Will suggested that as demigods, they'd probably be able to see places mortals couldn't, but Percy wished that Poseidon or Apollo would give them a hint. A clue. Couldn't Chiron have helped more than just giving her the name of a metropolitan? Even if they were able to see the studio, they'd have to find it first. And time wasn't on their side.
It was starting to get dark, and Will's golden glow had begun to fade. Even Percy, who had known about the mythological world for no more than a month, knew that this wasn't good. Will's most powerful source of energy was now gone—though he had explained to her the moon's reflection of the sun didn't completely cut him off, the soft silver aura was less than a fraction of his true power. Whether he knew it or not, Percy noticed that he was starting to bite his lip. He must've realized too.
The number of characters lurking in the dark didn't help either. Her mother had always drilled it in her head to not walk alone, but at least she was from New York. She didn't scare easily. Will, on the other hand, tensed every time a shadow moved, though he never stopped walking, his hand drifting toward his watch.
Percy, on the other hand, wasn't so clever, though it really wasn't her fault.
They were hurrying past the entrance of an alley when a voice said, "Hey."
Without thinking, she stopped.
Will grabbed her hand to pull her forward, as if he knew she was going to be an idiot, but it was too late.
They were surrounded by a gang of six boys—maybe Luke's age, if not a year or two younger, dressed in expensive clothes. Rich brats playing at being bad boys, then. Percy was familiar with the type.
She instinctively balled her fists, but Will's hand was still on her wrist—clearly, he expected her to do something stupid. Just as Percy was about to demand what he was thinking, Will whistled.
The sound was sharp, clear, cutting, and the boys yelped, dropping their switchblades and clutching their ears. Immediately, Percy knew that whatever that was, it wasn't a normal whistle, but Will didn't give her any more time to think. He had already begun running, Grover close at their heels as he pulled Percy along, giving her the push she needed before letting go.
They shoved two dazed, groaning teenagers out of the way and raced down the street, unsure of where they were going, but Percy really couldn't care anymore.
Will veered right, and then said, "There!"
There was an open store, windows glaring neon, and the sign above it said something like: CRSTUY'SWATREBDEALPACE.
"Crusty's Waterbed Palace?" Grover translated.
Percy normally wouldn't have ever stepped foot in such a place, but it sounded a lot better than the option behind her.
They burst into the doors, ran behind a waterbed, and ducked. Moments later, they heard the gang kids run past. It took a few seconds for any of them to feel brave enough to say anything.
"I think we lost them," Grover whispered.
"Lost who?"
They all jumped.
Standing behind them was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least six feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had grey leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold reptilian smile. He moved towards them slowly, but Percy got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to.
"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.
Percy almost said, Yes, you are.
Instead, she caught herself and said, "We're just, um, browsing. Broke our parents' at home."
She tried to fake an interested look in the nearest waterbed.
Crusty saw through her measly lie, though. "You mean you're hiding from those kids. They hang around every night. I get a lot of people here thanks to them. You want to see waterbeds?"
Percy was about to say no when he placed a giant hand on her shoulder hand half steered, half pushed her deeper into the store.
Waterbeds of every imaginable size towered over them, but none of them were in awe. In fact, Will had a sort of vacant frown on his face, like he was trying to think about something, but he kept shaking his head. If Crusty noticed, however, he didn't say anything.
"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a vibrating bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard.
"Million-hand massage," Crusty told them. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway."
"No, thanks," Percy said, but Grover had other ideas.
"Million-hand massage!" he cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool."
"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost."
"Almost what?" she asked.
He looked at Will. "Do me a favor and try this one over here. Might fit."
"No, I'm good," Will muttered, but he still looked distracted.
Crusty took advantage of that and pushed him onto the bed.
Will's eyes snapped back to the present, eyes no longer misty. "Hey!"
He tried to sit up, but Crusty wouldn't let him.
"Ergo!"
Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed and lashed around Will, gaining a startled yelp from the demigod, wincing as they dug into him. Grover tried to get up too, but more ropes sprang from his bed too.
"Not cool!" he yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "Not cool at all!"
Crusty looked at Will, then turned towards Percy and grinned. "Almost, darn it."
Percy backed up quickly, but he was faster—in an instant, his hand had shot out and grabbed her arm. "Whoa, don't worry. We'll find you one too."
"Let my friends go!"
She hoped she sounded braver than she felt, which wasn't a high standard.
"Sure, I will, but they gotta fit first?"
"Fit?"
"The beds are all exactly six feet, see? But your friends are too short. They have to fit."
Fit? Percy wanted to scream. Of all of them, Will was the tallest, and he was at least half a foot shorter than that, if not more. There was no way that any of them would be able to survive this. As she panicked, more ropes leapt from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapped themselves around Will and Grover's ankles and arms, and began tightening, stretching them from both sides. They were already beginning to pale, and their struggling was beginning to become less vigorous. Within minutes, if even that, they'd be dead.
She needed a plan.
"Your name isn't Crusty, is it?" she asked.
"Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted.
"The Stretcher," she remembered.
Theseus had fought him. But she couldn't remember how he managed to defeat him in the end.
"Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce "Procrustes"? Bad for business. Now "Crusty", anybody can say that."
"You're right. It's got a good ring to it."
His eyes lit up. "You think so?"
"Oh, absolutely," she said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"
He grinned hugely, but his fingers didn't loosen on her shoulder. "I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?"
"Not too many."
"That's right!"
"Percy!" Will yelled—or tried to, at least.
"Ignore him," she said, her heart pounding. "He's impossible."
The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting."
"What do you do if they're longer than six feet?"
"Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix."
He let go of her, but before she could react, he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass ax. He said, "I just center the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end."
"Ah," she said. "Sensible."
"I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!"
The ropes were really stretching her friends now. Will looked like he was seconds away from passing out. Grover was making gurgling noises. She had to speed up.
"So, Crusty..." Percy said, trying to keep her voice light. She glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?"
"Absolutely. Try it out."
"Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?"
"Guaranteed."
"No way."
"Way."
"Show me."
He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress. "No waves. See?"
She snapped her fingers. "Ergo."
Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress.
"Hey!" he yelled.
"Center him just right," she said.
The ropes readjusted themselves at her command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.
"No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo."
Percy uncapped Riptide.
"You drive a hard bargain," he told her. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models!"
She raised her sword. "I'll start on top."
"No money down! No interest for six months!"
She swung the sword. Crusty stopped making offers.
She cut the ropes on the other beds, and Will and Grover half climbed, half tumbled off.
Will muttered half-deliriously, "Was trying to remember his name. Sounded familiar. Thanks."
"Yeah, thanks, Percy," Grover said, wincing as he rolled his shoulder, "but maybe be faster next time?"
"You both look taller?" she offered.
"Funny," Will and Grover said at the same time, but there was no venom behind their words.
Percy looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters—"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!" Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commissions for heroes' souls. "We are always looking for new talent!" DOA's address was right underneath with a map.
"Come on," she told her friends.
"Give us a minute," Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death!"
"Then you're ready for the Underworld," she said. "It's only a block from here."
Is there an excuse for how late this is? No, but in my defense... I have no defense. I've been pretty MIA recently.
I wrote this chapter over the course of months (meaning literally July to January) so I'll be honest, I don't really remember the beginning of this chapter too well. I just sat down today and cranked out the other half because I realized I haven't updated anything in a while, and this one was the easiest to do.
Let's hope the next chapter won't take as long, though I always say that and it never works.
As always, thank you readers, and shout out to reviewers!