Annabeth Chase was used to seeing strange sights around Camp Half-Blood. In a camp filled with the offspring of immortal Greek gods, strange went with the territory- especially when their Roman children moved in. But this sight took the prize. It wasn't often one saw a rampaging Moose running around, chasing the children of the god of war. Clarisse, head councillor and chief bully of the camp, whirled around and tried to take on the Moose with a practise spear, but the moose changed into a beaver and gnawed on the wood. Annabeth blinked, and then there was a polar bear towering over the angry looking (read scared) Head councillor. With a snarl of frustration (ahem, fear), Clarisse threw down the remains of the spear and stormed off and the polar bear changed into none other than Frank Zhang. He wore the jersey of the Vancouver Canucks over a pair of jeans and tattered runners, a hockey stick strapped to his back, and he was grinned widely.

"Victory, eh?" he called out happily.

"Frank, what's going on?" Annabeth asked.

"Um, what are you talking aboot?" he asked.

"Chasing Clarisse," Annabeth said.

"She was insulting Hazel. Calling her things like 'Death Breath.' I am allowed to defend Hazel's honour, eh?"

Annabeth walked away shaking her head.

000

Clarisse watched in fascination at the sight before her. It was a magnificent sight. Really, it was. The mound of pancakes were amazing. Everyone at the table attacked the pile of food like true children of the God of War- except one.

"What's up Frank?" she asked around a mouthful of food.

"It's missing something," Frank said with a scowl, then produced a bottle of syrup from inside his jacket. The bottle was even shaped like a maple leaf. Clarissa's eyes buleged.

"Oh, my, Gods," Clarisse whispered. "You are so Canadian."

Frank looked offended.

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings?" Clarisse said in a mock sympathetic voice.

"It's cool," Frank said. "I'll just go back home and get my feelings checked out with our free health care service."

000

Annabeth strode into Cabin Three, ready to tell them off for the noise they were making. Normally, Percy and Tyson were quiet, but something was getting them riled up tonight. Once she made it passed the threshold, she stopped. Percy, Tyson and Frank were sitting in front of a tv, watching a hockey game.

"Come on, get it in, shoot," Frank was practically screaming, spilling something from a cup in his hand. The liquid splashed over some bacon that lay on a plate by his side. A loud buzzer sounded, and an announcer stated the end of the second period. Frank grumbled good naturedly and took a sip from his cup before he spotted Annabeth. He smiled. Percy and Tyson just grumbled that they were losing an awful lot of money.

"Annabeth, would you like to join us, eh?"

"I'd love to. At least someone is being polite," she said, glaring at Percy and Tyson.

"Well, us Canadians pride ourselves on good manners," Frank smiled.

Percy's eyes bulged.

"Seriously? You're like, a stereotype man," he said.

"How do you figure that, eh?" Frank asked.

"Well, you are overly polite, you love hockey, you eat bacon, you cover your pancakes in syrup and to top it all off, you are drinking syrup from a Tim Hortons cup," Percy said.

"And let's not forget chasing Clarisse as a moose, a beaver and a polar bear," Annabeth put in.

Twenty minutes later, and Annabeth strode out the door. What with Percy and Frank bickering and acting like children, she had kind of, maybe, sort of lectured them about been adults. As she walked away, three pairs of eyes watched her from the window of Cabin Three. Finally, someone spoke.

"Good thing she didn't find the Molson in the cooler, eh?"

Authors note: No offence to any Canadians reading.