I Get to Push the Plunger
Summary: "I get to push the plunger, 'cause it's my birthday!"
Disclaimer: All characters from the Artemis Fowl trilogy belong to Eoin Colfer. All others belong to us, as does any aberrations from the books, maiming, or killing.
"I get to push the plunger, 'cause it's my birthday!"
Butler looked at Artemis expressionlessly. "I believe Master Artemis is slightly inebriated," he remarked to no one in particular, though Fowl, Sr. smirked broadly.
Artemis regarded Butler with annoyance. "Well, it's true! An' I'm not in-ineb-inebrated… not drunk," he finished conclusively. "Dammit."
Artemis Fowl II had turned one hundred and ninety three. Well, so it seemed to Butler on certain days. But truthfully, young Master Fowl had just turned seventeen at six thirty-two PM. After arriving in Nevada, USA, they first served wine and brie, but then once the entrée had been devoured, as though it were some sort of Roman banquet, the men – Artemis, his father, and Butler – went off to pursue their own intoxication.
Artemis had protested vocally, insisting that he would never willingly consume any manner of substance that could in any way make him lose control of his mental facilities(make him look stupid). However, his protests proved, in the end, a futile attempt to deny what would inevitably come: his "inebrated-ness." And now, he got to push the plunger(because it was his birthday).
How plungers and explosives came to inhabit his mind at this point is anyone's guess, but there they were, ready for whatever use he put them to. Artemis tried, very much in vain, to remain looking composed, attempting to rest his chin on the heel of his hand. However, he missed twice, finally deciding to fling himself against the back of his chair and sink down into it as far as he could go. Unfortunately, this resulted in an imbalance of his weight and he fell off.
Once risen to his feet again, he leaned over to Butler, stumbling into his manservant. "Butler," he declaimed in a horrible stage-whisper, "about before – about before . . . " – he glanced around in an overly-suspicious manner – "I was lying. I . . . am soooooo drunk!" He brought forth something shiny from his pocket, dangling it before the older man's eyes. "An' I'm taking . . . the Lamborghini!" He planted a fleeting kiss on Butler's cheek, stunning him. "I'll be back. But sssshhh, don't tell my father."
Without anything more than another suspicious glance around the room, he headed for the exit, staggering all the way.
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