Apollo groaned as he examined the pile of metal and wood that used to be his golden chariot. "No more nectar..." he muttered to himself. Walking a circle around the wreckage, he realized that everything was getting darker. Either he was going blind, or the sun was setting at noon. Without the sun the world would soon turn into a sphere of ice. He needed to get help and fast.

Apollo called the only number he knew where somebody would pick up no matter what, Camp Half-blood. Chiron picked up the phone.
"Hello?"
"Chiron! Thank the gods!! Where's Percy??"
"On Mount Olympus with Annabeth. What's wrong Apollo?
"I crashed the chariot in a tree.. It's scrap metal now."
"THE GOLDEN CHAROIT?!?!?!?!?!!!"
"Yes now calm down! Can you send a pegasus?"
"Carlie is on her way"
"Thank you Chiron"
"Anytime Apollo.. Although this better be the first AND last time you crash the chariot"