Hello faithful readers and other random, but still loverly people. Sorry I haven't updated. You see, my fingertips swelled to the size of coconuts and….(oh, and I'm canning the page breaks mostly tell me if this ruins your life and I'll put em back)
Jessica stared at the computer screen. No one had emailed. No one had called. Everyone was fine. Then why was she so apprehensive?
Butler's butler-sense tingled. (a/n this one's for you, lilacpurple) He checked the cameras and took another sweep around the mansion. He noticed, not for the first time, that it was taking him longer than it used to. 'I'm too young for this...' he thought.
"So, you going to show us your wonderful creation or what?"
Foaly was irritated. He was genius! They just didn't appreciate him…
"You went over funding, so it'd better be good, civilian."
"THAT'S IT!" Foaly threw-up his hands. "You think I'm a pack animal don't you? I'm a genius not a horse! Fine, you know what, if you want a horse I'll be a horse." Foaly proceeded to put his carrot on the table and try to eat it like a horse. Being that his top half was humanoid, this was difficult. Holy rolled her eyes.
"Quit the melodramatics Foaly. I have good coffee cooling in my cubicle."
"Fine, then, I'll be a good horsie and show you!"
Alas, Foaly couldn't be a good horsie and show them. The alarm went off first.
-eerie foreboding page break-
Mulch's hair stood on end. In the wise words of his grandma, trust the hair. Mulch may have been a miscreant mastermind and nefarious ne'r-do-well, but he listened to his dear old grandma.
"Hello, package for Master Fowl."
Butler answered to the door to a rather short, large-toothed, and all around rather scary short individual that apparently didn't fit into his clothes. (This is understandable, being that he stole them off some hapless postal-worker.)
"This is his residence."
"But is he here?"
"Yes, but he's quite busy."
"But this is an insured package; he has to sign for it."
"He's busy."
"I can't deliver the package without a signature."
"I'll get him," Butler hissed between his teeth. He closed the door (it took all of his training to stay calm and not slam it on the abnormally minute civil-servant) and traipsed off to the genius child's room.
Artemis actually was busy, scheming (as per usual). He needed a way to keep his parents satisfied that he was doing something wholesome, educational, and generally associated with shininess and good, but still do what he wanted. He was after all, a teenager, granted, a ludicrously super-intelligent teenager, but a teen none the less. He eyed his counter-fitting paints in the corner and smirked.
Under the earth, things were not going well. Commander Root was about to go outside and yell at hapless interns until someone told him what was D'arviting happening when Trouble walked into the room.
"Commander, bad news; Turnball's…well…he's out…and…I think you should see this." Trouble gravely handed Root a letter, apparently written on a piece of fabric from a prison jump-suit. We won't speculate on the inks origin.
Root read the letter and blanched. He started to shake and Foaly quickly put his swivel chair behind Root before he collapsed. A look of shock and pain flashed on Root's face. He dropped the letter, buried his head in his hands and did something no one in the LEP had ever seen him do before. He cried.
Trouble instantly found something supremely interesting on his shoes. Holly knelt down and picked-up the offending note.
"What does it say?" Foaly questioned in a haggard whisper.
Holly, keeping her voice low, read the letter.
Julius,
I guess the Commander is too busy to visit his brother, even on his birthday. No matter, you'll be seeing a lot more of me. Sainted little brother, Mommy and Daddy's favorite and the LEP's shining little star. Too long you've shadowed me, ignored me, shamed me, and belittled me. I will have my revenge on you and everything you stand for, everything that has suppressed me for so long. You and your friends will suffer. And the little genius mud-boy? Don't count on him lasting to long either.
Your Brother,
Turnball
Holly shook her head. "We need to get the Fowl boy down here, preferably yesterday."
Trouble looked from her to the shaking form of Root. "Will do."
Yes, it's been months, but remember, flames, no matter how deserved, will be given to AJ. Please, don't arm her. And the 28th is my b-day. You wouldn't flame a girl right before her b-day, right?
laBOBuren – Heh, whoopsie.
blondevil – Mehbeh, mebeh not.
silverfingers – Longer. ((smiles winningly)) Do you not hate me?
TrisakAminawn- Yes, my transitions need work. I'm just to lazy to work on them. Fine, Gwhair isn't a chicken, but he has a very very funky name. Awww, thank you for adding me to favs.
tikitikirevenge- I did it, aren't you proud. You didn't even use the spoonerisms you lying fink. Hehehe.
Pimpernelunderthecelticmoon- Haha! My organic shaped object!
MuggleBuddy- Thank you.
athleticsrulz- And the Foalypod loves you too.
cloudlessnight- Being that Jessica is mostly me, I'm slightly hurt. LOL, they might get together, matters weather or not…well, I feel like it.
dragon emperess- Wouldn't you?
Miroku-has-darkness – Yes, but they would have turned them back on after the mind-wipe just in case.
