Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! Eion Colfer owns EVERYBODY! I only own these
EVENTS, in my own ideas, using HER characters, and I have no money anyway,
so there's no reason to SUE!!! BWAHAHAHA!!!
Butler is the main focus of this story! Poor Dommie is left out a lot in stories, awwww. *pets chibi neko Butler*
Takes place after EC. Butler goes through some weird stuff. Artemis eventually will meet up with midgets again, don't worry. R&R plz. My first fic too, be nice.
My first fanfiction, and I'm slightly nervous. I'm currently being swamped with homework, so expect an update about every two weeks, give or take a few days. I hate when people write a fanfiction chapter and promise and never touch it again. I hate it more when someone writes a piece, and doesn't use a spellchecker, punctuation, and doesn't read it again to make sure that they are using the words the right way (Their, they're, there, it's pretty simple, people). I solemnly swear that I WILL update as much as possible, reread my stuff BEFORE I submit, and WILL NOT start any other stories BEFORE FINISHING this one. Now that my rant is over, I also want you precious people who will read my fanfiction to understand that I dorm 4 nights a week, and our horrid computers think that fanfiction.net is an EVIL little site filling our brains with PR0N, VIOLENCE, and HATE. So, no updates until weekends, sorry.
Rend
Chapter One
Butler sighed, and stirred his glass of beer. The bar, which usually had its share of cheerful drunkenness every evening, was a decidedly reserved and sober building tonight. This was partly to do with Butler's immense girth, as he had to squeeze into the largest booth the bar stocked. If you wanted to make someone look like a Butler, all you had to do was find any reasonably well-built person, make them proportionally two feet taller, and implant football pads inside his/her body. Then, make their fists only slightly smaller than their heads, and force them to do every form of exercise known to humankind every single day. That essentially made up the physical appearance of a Butler. However, for once, his mind was not focused on staying in shape, but rather on a question of activity. He hated to admit it, but as much as he respected and obeyed Artemis Fowl the First, it just wasn't the same anymore. Artemis Jr. was, he confessed, a much more exciting person to be around. Unfortunately, since the man had shown up and recovered, he'd ended the Fowl Legacy of crime. Instead, he had sent Artemis to the most expensive boarding school in the world, and had taken up religion, to the boy's utter disgust. Unfortunately, as the boarding school often had had bullies taking world leaders' children hostage for ransom or for some law to be passed or vetoed in a country, it now had a strict rule which it enforced harshly. A small but officious plaque was now mounted upon almost every surface within a two-mile radius, dictating:
NO ADULTS, OTHER THAN TEACHERS AND OTHER EMPLOYEES, ALLOWED ONTO SCHOOL PROPERTY. PARENTS MAY MEET THEIR CHILDREN ON WEEKENDS, HOLIDAYS AND THE CHILDREN UNDER THE CARE OF THE TEACHERS AND EMPLOYEES, WILL ONLY LEAVE THE PREMISES ON FIELD TRIPS AND SUMMER HOLS. TRESPASSERS FOUND UPON THE SCHOOL GROUNDS WILL BE SHOT AT, THEN FINED WHATEVER AMOUNT OF MONEY THE HEADMASTER/ HEADMISTRESS DEEMS APPROPRIATE
Signed *scribbleloop* *scrawled figure* *blotch* *meandering line*
Needless to say, this meant that Butler, for the first time in his life, was forced to remain home in Dublin whilst Artemis went gallivanting across Europe to the top-secret location of the boarding school. Butler felt almost left out.
As Mr. Fowl no longer went in for crime, Butler had less to do in the business of protection, and had much more leisure time. More time than he could possibly know what to do with. This was partly a good thing, as he had to admit that even the most trained and healthy Butler got old eventually. He had been ashamed earlier that year to drag himself to the pharmacy and buy some painkillers and medication for arthritis. Although he had just had his forty-fifth birthday in November, he felt like he was in his sixties already.(1)On the other hand, although he could feel his body beginning to degenerate, and was grateful for long naps after his exercises, he couldn't help feeling useless and bored.
And so what was one to do after trying to delay the inevitable, but go to the bar and drink away, and forget that your charge was nowhere in sight, earshot, or protection range.
The barkeeper sighed and looked across the room through the cigarette/cigar haze at the slumping mountain of human muscle, threatening to suffocate itself against the table, which must have stuck painfully into the hulk's abs. The bartender much preferred those annoying yet happy talkative drunks that spilled their life history and treated you as a Catholic confessional priest, than these horribly depressing, sober-until-unconscious, brooding, and threateningly violent alcoholics. This particular specimen of dipsomaniac was the largest he had yet seen, and looked as though he could tear apart the bar with one of the large hands, now covering the entire drained beer glass. Sometimes, thought the barkeeper, I wish I had decided to be a bank teller, or an ice cream man. That way, I would only occasionally have to face threats and guns pointed at my face, asking for money, or continually be hounded by bratty children. Anything but having to kick that guy out at closing hour.
1. Hint, hint, nudge nudge. I couldn't resist putting this in.
*end chapter one*
I will update as soon as I get two reviews, and I'm sorry that this chapter is inaccurate, crappy, unfounded, OOC, short, and, so far at least, plotless, but I need to check out the fowl books from the library and double-check a few facts. Researching, if you will. So, be patient, this crap will turn into crap with a plot, SOON. Possibly tomorrow, if I can get to the library.
Butler is the main focus of this story! Poor Dommie is left out a lot in stories, awwww. *pets chibi neko Butler*
Takes place after EC. Butler goes through some weird stuff. Artemis eventually will meet up with midgets again, don't worry. R&R plz. My first fic too, be nice.
My first fanfiction, and I'm slightly nervous. I'm currently being swamped with homework, so expect an update about every two weeks, give or take a few days. I hate when people write a fanfiction chapter and promise and never touch it again. I hate it more when someone writes a piece, and doesn't use a spellchecker, punctuation, and doesn't read it again to make sure that they are using the words the right way (Their, they're, there, it's pretty simple, people). I solemnly swear that I WILL update as much as possible, reread my stuff BEFORE I submit, and WILL NOT start any other stories BEFORE FINISHING this one. Now that my rant is over, I also want you precious people who will read my fanfiction to understand that I dorm 4 nights a week, and our horrid computers think that fanfiction.net is an EVIL little site filling our brains with PR0N, VIOLENCE, and HATE. So, no updates until weekends, sorry.
Rend
Chapter One
Butler sighed, and stirred his glass of beer. The bar, which usually had its share of cheerful drunkenness every evening, was a decidedly reserved and sober building tonight. This was partly to do with Butler's immense girth, as he had to squeeze into the largest booth the bar stocked. If you wanted to make someone look like a Butler, all you had to do was find any reasonably well-built person, make them proportionally two feet taller, and implant football pads inside his/her body. Then, make their fists only slightly smaller than their heads, and force them to do every form of exercise known to humankind every single day. That essentially made up the physical appearance of a Butler. However, for once, his mind was not focused on staying in shape, but rather on a question of activity. He hated to admit it, but as much as he respected and obeyed Artemis Fowl the First, it just wasn't the same anymore. Artemis Jr. was, he confessed, a much more exciting person to be around. Unfortunately, since the man had shown up and recovered, he'd ended the Fowl Legacy of crime. Instead, he had sent Artemis to the most expensive boarding school in the world, and had taken up religion, to the boy's utter disgust. Unfortunately, as the boarding school often had had bullies taking world leaders' children hostage for ransom or for some law to be passed or vetoed in a country, it now had a strict rule which it enforced harshly. A small but officious plaque was now mounted upon almost every surface within a two-mile radius, dictating:
NO ADULTS, OTHER THAN TEACHERS AND OTHER EMPLOYEES, ALLOWED ONTO SCHOOL PROPERTY. PARENTS MAY MEET THEIR CHILDREN ON WEEKENDS, HOLIDAYS AND THE CHILDREN UNDER THE CARE OF THE TEACHERS AND EMPLOYEES, WILL ONLY LEAVE THE PREMISES ON FIELD TRIPS AND SUMMER HOLS. TRESPASSERS FOUND UPON THE SCHOOL GROUNDS WILL BE SHOT AT, THEN FINED WHATEVER AMOUNT OF MONEY THE HEADMASTER/ HEADMISTRESS DEEMS APPROPRIATE
Signed *scribbleloop* *scrawled figure* *blotch* *meandering line*
Needless to say, this meant that Butler, for the first time in his life, was forced to remain home in Dublin whilst Artemis went gallivanting across Europe to the top-secret location of the boarding school. Butler felt almost left out.
As Mr. Fowl no longer went in for crime, Butler had less to do in the business of protection, and had much more leisure time. More time than he could possibly know what to do with. This was partly a good thing, as he had to admit that even the most trained and healthy Butler got old eventually. He had been ashamed earlier that year to drag himself to the pharmacy and buy some painkillers and medication for arthritis. Although he had just had his forty-fifth birthday in November, he felt like he was in his sixties already.(1)On the other hand, although he could feel his body beginning to degenerate, and was grateful for long naps after his exercises, he couldn't help feeling useless and bored.
And so what was one to do after trying to delay the inevitable, but go to the bar and drink away, and forget that your charge was nowhere in sight, earshot, or protection range.
The barkeeper sighed and looked across the room through the cigarette/cigar haze at the slumping mountain of human muscle, threatening to suffocate itself against the table, which must have stuck painfully into the hulk's abs. The bartender much preferred those annoying yet happy talkative drunks that spilled their life history and treated you as a Catholic confessional priest, than these horribly depressing, sober-until-unconscious, brooding, and threateningly violent alcoholics. This particular specimen of dipsomaniac was the largest he had yet seen, and looked as though he could tear apart the bar with one of the large hands, now covering the entire drained beer glass. Sometimes, thought the barkeeper, I wish I had decided to be a bank teller, or an ice cream man. That way, I would only occasionally have to face threats and guns pointed at my face, asking for money, or continually be hounded by bratty children. Anything but having to kick that guy out at closing hour.
1. Hint, hint, nudge nudge. I couldn't resist putting this in.
*end chapter one*
I will update as soon as I get two reviews, and I'm sorry that this chapter is inaccurate, crappy, unfounded, OOC, short, and, so far at least, plotless, but I need to check out the fowl books from the library and double-check a few facts. Researching, if you will. So, be patient, this crap will turn into crap with a plot, SOON. Possibly tomorrow, if I can get to the library.