Hunter-of-Fairies- Thank you so much for your wonderful review! Here's the next chapter, just for you.

Great. Now I'm speaking in rhyme.

(Author's Note: As an added fun bonus, try reading Angeline and Miss Souzie's lines aloud! )

CHAPTER TWO: What Geeves, Eh?

"Artemis! Get the doawh!"

"The doawh?"

"Yes! Miss Souzie is here!"

"Oh. Fantastic."

Artemis moped down the eternal corridors of Fowl Manor for a full five minutes before he reached the porch. He punched codes into four security systems, turned twelve keys in eight locks, undid three security chains and slid free no less than thirteen bolts. Still the door wouldn't open. What is this new assault! Artemis meditated for half an hour, then noticed the doorstop.

Muttering stormily to himself, he heaved the leviathan doors open. "Yes?" he snapped, then chanced to look at the person in front of him.

There, in the Gothic-arched doorway, stood the most beautiful woman Artemis Fowl had ever seen. The golden light of the sun proudly shone down upon her,alighting in streaks and puddles on her glistening hair that hung in cheery, lank ribbons from her pear-shaped crown, the perfect frame for her precious face; her low monobrow curling endearingly at the temples, small, deep-set, muddy green eyes glowing with some sort of allergy to pollen, sweet little nose curved upwards at the end, so that her large and hirsute nostrils were almost at a ninety degree angle to the ground; her beautiful lips chapped, cracked and mildly scabby, a sort of corpse-like colour, strongly dimpled, stubbly chin jutting out from her wide neck, and a healthy acne bringing colour to her cute, sallow cheeks- she couldn't have weighed more than 350 pounds, Artemis thought, and he felt a glow inside.

"'Allo. Eees thees za Fowel residence?"

"W-why, yes it ees, you must be Miss Souzie, I'm Artemis, please, come in, let me help you with those bags…"

"I waz born wiz zem," said Marie, smiling sadly, exposing slightly her perfect gold teeth.

"Ah-ha-hah, no, I meant your suitcases, hah, please-" Artemis gestured wildly in the direction of the inside of his house.

"Oh! Sank you," she said, giving her cases to Artemis, who promptly collapsed with their weight, "Zut, zis ees a big 'ouse! An' you leeve in all of it?"

Butler trundled in and relieved Artemis of Miss Souzie's bags.

"Ah, Miss… Miss Souzie, i-isn't it? I'm… very pleased to meet you. Very pleased to meet you, Miss Suzie. Ah, yes. Eh… I t-trust your journey wasn't too stressful? Stressful?" The poor geriatric was finding it hard to remember what he was saying these days.

"It waz very good, sank you. Ze police here are strange, zough. I waz stopped by zem several times on my drive 'ere, but az soon az I roll down zee window to speek to zem, zey run away like I'm pointing ah gun at zem! What geeves, eh?"

"Very p-peculiar. Artemis here, I'm sure, has already introduced himself- you're to be put in charge of his, engh,his domestic care and well-being."

"Oui, I know, Madame Fowl told me on zee phone. Pleased to meet you for zee first time, Artemis."

"A h-hah, the pleasure's all mine, Miss Souzie- it's Marie, isn't it? May I call you Marie? Marie, would you like to rest a while after your long trip, or can I show you around now? Butler can take care of your bags…"

"Y-Yes, Master Artemis," Butler nodded gravely, "If that's… If that's your final decision," he said, grabbing the luggage and dragging it to the foot of the stairs. Artemis could hear him mumbling solemnly to it as he began his painfully slow ascent to the first floor. Shrugging, Artemis turned to the angel, his darling love, Marie.

"I sink I would like to look around now, sank you," she said, smiling. She was the image of health- well, there were a lot of greensin her teeth, anyway.

"Oh good. Please, follow me…" Artemisskipped happilydown the nearest corridor.

A few hours later, Artemis' guided tour was finally coming to an end, finishing in the kitchen, where his mother sat, talking celebrity gossip with Juliet.

"Hey, babe. Who's this?" asked Angeline Fowl (or A-Fo, as she liked to be called nowadays- she was trying to make it on the pop scene.)

"Mother, this is Marie Souzie, my new au pair- do you recall?" said Artemis, cringing only slightly with embarrassment.

"Oh yeah! S'up! What's goin' down?" said A-Fo., making the "Boyakasha!" gestures with her long, nicotine-stained fingers.

"Pleased to meet you, Madame Fowel. I am very well, sank you. Artemis has just shown me around. Zis ees a beautiful 'ouse."

"Yo, props, girl! Hey, ya like dogs?"

"Dogs? Yes, I do, if zey is friendly… Why do you ask?"

"Well, snort, Mrs. Fowl has an extra ticket to da greyhound races ad da local dog run, tobmorrow, 'cause she can't go, an' Mr. Fowl is afraid of da little Duracell bunny that da dogs chase. I hab to stay here, 'cause I godda cold," Juliet managed to say. She then proceeded to sneeze luxuriously into the dinner she was busy preparing.

"Juliet!" Angeline snapped (yes, I got bored of A-Fo), "D'ya think Artemis'll even try those sprouts, now you've sneezed bogies in with them?"

"Bah, how can you even tell the difference?" Juliet retorted. Just then, Mr. Fowl gallivanted past the open door, riding naked on the back of a pig-like animal, waving his pet leg in the air. "You can't get him to eat the sprouts!" He shrieked joyously, before colliding with a hat stand. (A/N: I thought it was getting boring, okay?)

"Yes, I would like to go and see the races, sank you very much," said Marie, smiling.

"Fantastic!" said Artemis, without sarcasm for once, "You can sit next to me."

Upstairs, Butler stood in his bedroom, staring (or, more accurately, squinting) hard at the luggage that stood defiantly against the wall.

"I'm s-sorry that it has to… to be this way," he said to it, "Really, I have, eh, have nothing against you. Master Artemis wants you gone. It's just business, ehm, y-you see?"

The luggage was silent.

"Any last words?"

Again, silence.

"Then see you i-in, eh, hell!" Butler levelled his pistol and fired sixteen shots, the luckiest three of which hit the luggage dead on- two in the chest and one in the forehead. Gasping, it sank to the floor, to rest in the pool oftoothpase and shampoo spilling from its wounds. Butler sighed, bowed his head for a moment's respect, then pocketed his gun and hobbled downstairs.

Yes, Like J-Lo. I stole the idea from another fic I read (which was really good! well done, author of that fic!) where Artemis allegedly renamed himself A-Fo. So sorry whoever I've ripped off. It was NOT my original idea. (Just to clear that up.)

I'm not anti-French people, either. In most stories, the French maid is supposed to be sexy, so I'm taking the piss out of that. I'm not saying all French women are ugly! Okay! Don't hurt me!(Just to clear THAT up.)

Plus, (all you die-hard Discworld fans out there), yes, I did somewhat base Butler's character on the old monk who suffers from "demons" (forgotten the name) in Small Gods. You know, the one that tells Brutha to ignore Om the Talking Tortoise? Feh, s'been ages since I read that...

Author's Notes: Yes, this story is only getting stupider. Think of it as a log ride, complete incoherency being the pool at the bottom. Yay! Please review! I love you!

Alright, well I'll stop loving you if you promise you'll review.

Thank you!

Draggons