"You have quite the irritable mouth," Achilles shot back to the hot-headed sealing. He did not appreciate being treated like scum under his shoe. He was a warrior, a general, a lieutenant. He did not deserve such mouth, son of a god or not. Achilles would always see himself as on the same plane.
"Then take the Fiat."
Poseidon interjected then not about to squeeze himself into the littler car. "Sorry blondie, you take the little guy. The Lamborghini is more my style."