Little Red Light.
Artemis Fowl.
May 2, 2004.
PG.
Artemis/Juliet.
Humor/General.
Merodii- I'm back! But, I finally have an Arty-chan ficcie!
Artemis- Ummmm… Arty-chan?
Holly- ::sustaining laughter::
Butler- Merodii does not own Artemis Fowl, for that is the job of Mr. Eoin Colfer, and, nor does she own the song Little Red Light, that is the property of Fountains of Wayne. ::walks off singing:: Stacy's mom, has got it goin' on…
Artemis- O_O
~*~
"Butler, this is starting to get on my last nerve," Artemis said, tapping his foot on the floorboard in an 'if-this-traffic-does-not-get-better-I-will-scream' manner. "I noticed, Artemis," Butler said, keeping his attention directed to the road, "Americans are always like this, though. So, we might as well get used to it." Artemis scowled, a string of curses running through his adolescent mind.
Rain was coming down in sheets, easing Artemis's temper slightly, for Artemis did not take well to the sun. The satellite radio in his car was broken, but there was no way in Hades that Artemis was going to listen to American music, anyway.
//Sitting in traffic on the Tappan Zee.
Fifty million people out in front of me.
Trying to cross the water but it just might be a while.
Rain's coming down, I can't see a thing.
Radio's broken so I'm whistling.
New York to Nyack feels like a hundred miles.//
Why did I agree to come here in the first place? thought Artemis, and why did I leave Juliet behind? Artemis didn't make mistakes too often, but that was one of them. He was becoming as paranoid as Butler was about Juliet. Besides, it would be much more bearable in America if Juliet was sitting in the backseat, giggling at the strange-looking American boys.
//It's not right.
It's not fair.
I'm still a mess.
And you still don't care.//
About an hour later, Butler at long last pulled into the parking space infront of where they'd be staying for the next week.
It wasn't what Artemis expected, it was tiny. Trashy, by Artemis's standards. He looked up at the glowing sign, which was donning bold, red words, three of which caught his attention. Those words were '5-star Hotel'.
Artemis snickered, in spite of himself. 'If this is a five-star, I'd hate to see a four-star,' he thought.
"We'll be staying in Room 319," Butler pointed out.
Artemis was, again, cursing to himself like a sprite. Room 319 wasn't even a suite. It was just there, like all the other non-suite rooms.
Our raven-haired friend grumpily got out of the car, raising his black 'stay-away-from-me-or-I'll-hurt-you' umbrella. 'Why me?' he thought.
'Why now?'
'Why here?'
For the remainder of the night, Artemis stayed in his non-suite room, at his makeshift non-suite desk, drinking non-suite coffee, and waiting for a phonecall from a certain blonde Butler.
//I go to work,
I come back home.
But you're still gone,
And I'm still alone…
And the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking on my,
Big, black, plastic, Japanese cordless phone.//
The next day, Artemis stayed at his computer all day. His computer held all the pieces of information important to him.
He had become quite addicted to non-suite coffee… Maybe it was just because he drank it all last night so he wouldn't fall asleep. Of course, he wasn't on his computer for business or work type things… He was waiting for an email, from one WrestlerChick12590@yahoo.com. (note to reader, I made that email address up. I DON'T KNOW if it's real or not, so don't try to email it, okay! ^_^)
Guess who that could be?
Certainly not Juliet Butler…
So, Artemis sat at his computer all day, and no email from WrestlerChick12590 ever came. Never. But, he got some new spam, and emailed viruses to the spammers' computers.
And, they weren't just computer viruses, either. Arty was worn out though, ready for a nice wine. He thought that if he glared at the room-service guy evilly enough, he'd be able to get wine without Butler's help.
But, Butler knew that Arty might try this, so there were a few bottles of wine in the non-suite refridgerator.
//Stuck in a meeting on a Monday night,
Trying to get the numbers to come out right,
I'm getting tired think I just might need a drink,
And as I'm reaching in the bottom drawer,
I'm dreaming 'bout the way it was before.
Life was so easy, I never really had to think.
And the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking on my,
Desktop mailbox of my big black laptop.//
So, Arty settled down back at his computer, with his cell phone in one hand, and a mug (O_O) of wine in the other, awaiting email and phone call from a certain wrestler chick.
//And the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking on my,
Big black Radio Shack digital portable phone.
Oh no!//
~*~
Merodii- Ha! Weird, and extremely short too!
Butler- ::extremely upbeat:: R&R! R&R! R&R!
Artemis- O_O
Artemis Fowl.
May 2, 2004.
PG.
Artemis/Juliet.
Humor/General.
Merodii- I'm back! But, I finally have an Arty-chan ficcie!
Artemis- Ummmm… Arty-chan?
Holly- ::sustaining laughter::
Butler- Merodii does not own Artemis Fowl, for that is the job of Mr. Eoin Colfer, and, nor does she own the song Little Red Light, that is the property of Fountains of Wayne. ::walks off singing:: Stacy's mom, has got it goin' on…
Artemis- O_O
~*~
"Butler, this is starting to get on my last nerve," Artemis said, tapping his foot on the floorboard in an 'if-this-traffic-does-not-get-better-I-will-scream' manner. "I noticed, Artemis," Butler said, keeping his attention directed to the road, "Americans are always like this, though. So, we might as well get used to it." Artemis scowled, a string of curses running through his adolescent mind.
Rain was coming down in sheets, easing Artemis's temper slightly, for Artemis did not take well to the sun. The satellite radio in his car was broken, but there was no way in Hades that Artemis was going to listen to American music, anyway.
//Sitting in traffic on the Tappan Zee.
Fifty million people out in front of me.
Trying to cross the water but it just might be a while.
Rain's coming down, I can't see a thing.
Radio's broken so I'm whistling.
New York to Nyack feels like a hundred miles.//
Why did I agree to come here in the first place? thought Artemis, and why did I leave Juliet behind? Artemis didn't make mistakes too often, but that was one of them. He was becoming as paranoid as Butler was about Juliet. Besides, it would be much more bearable in America if Juliet was sitting in the backseat, giggling at the strange-looking American boys.
//It's not right.
It's not fair.
I'm still a mess.
And you still don't care.//
About an hour later, Butler at long last pulled into the parking space infront of where they'd be staying for the next week.
It wasn't what Artemis expected, it was tiny. Trashy, by Artemis's standards. He looked up at the glowing sign, which was donning bold, red words, three of which caught his attention. Those words were '5-star Hotel'.
Artemis snickered, in spite of himself. 'If this is a five-star, I'd hate to see a four-star,' he thought.
"We'll be staying in Room 319," Butler pointed out.
Artemis was, again, cursing to himself like a sprite. Room 319 wasn't even a suite. It was just there, like all the other non-suite rooms.
Our raven-haired friend grumpily got out of the car, raising his black 'stay-away-from-me-or-I'll-hurt-you' umbrella. 'Why me?' he thought.
'Why now?'
'Why here?'
For the remainder of the night, Artemis stayed in his non-suite room, at his makeshift non-suite desk, drinking non-suite coffee, and waiting for a phonecall from a certain blonde Butler.
//I go to work,
I come back home.
But you're still gone,
And I'm still alone…
And the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking on my,
Big, black, plastic, Japanese cordless phone.//
The next day, Artemis stayed at his computer all day. His computer held all the pieces of information important to him.
He had become quite addicted to non-suite coffee… Maybe it was just because he drank it all last night so he wouldn't fall asleep. Of course, he wasn't on his computer for business or work type things… He was waiting for an email, from one WrestlerChick12590@yahoo.com. (note to reader, I made that email address up. I DON'T KNOW if it's real or not, so don't try to email it, okay! ^_^)
Guess who that could be?
Certainly not Juliet Butler…
So, Artemis sat at his computer all day, and no email from WrestlerChick12590 ever came. Never. But, he got some new spam, and emailed viruses to the spammers' computers.
And, they weren't just computer viruses, either. Arty was worn out though, ready for a nice wine. He thought that if he glared at the room-service guy evilly enough, he'd be able to get wine without Butler's help.
But, Butler knew that Arty might try this, so there were a few bottles of wine in the non-suite refridgerator.
//Stuck in a meeting on a Monday night,
Trying to get the numbers to come out right,
I'm getting tired think I just might need a drink,
And as I'm reaching in the bottom drawer,
I'm dreaming 'bout the way it was before.
Life was so easy, I never really had to think.
And the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking on my,
Desktop mailbox of my big black laptop.//
So, Arty settled down back at his computer, with his cell phone in one hand, and a mug (O_O) of wine in the other, awaiting email and phone call from a certain wrestler chick.
//And the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking,
No, no the little red light's not blinking on my,
Big black Radio Shack digital portable phone.
Oh no!//
~*~
Merodii- Ha! Weird, and extremely short too!
Butler- ::extremely upbeat:: R&R! R&R! R&R!
Artemis- O_O