Disclaimer: I OWN IT ALL! ...well, no. Not really. I don't own Artemis Fowl or Alex Rider. They belong to the brilliant Eoin Colfer, and the er... somewhat brilliant Anthony Horowitz.
Warning: This story IS a PARODY, which means that I WILL be making fun of Alex Rider (someone has to...) If you do not enjoy reading parodies then you will probably not like this. so don't flame me for not warning you. I'd also like to mention that I've only read three of the books, so keep that in mind as you read.
Now, if you do like Parodies then I hope you enjoy the following one. I mostly made it because, when I went to look at the Alex Rider fan fics, I found (to my horror) that there were NO parodies. I mean, a story like this with a Gary Stu as its main character and cheesy storylines is simply a parody writer's dream come true! So here it is. The long awaited Alex Rider parody! Read, review, and enjoy.
Alex Rider was bored. He really didn't want to be a spy... but he really did! No wait... he didn't... or did he? This was all so confusing. Even more confusing was the fact that any adult in their right mind would hire a 14 year old as a spy. He vaguely remembered having considered this a while back, but he'd pushed it away, never to bring it up again. After all, Alex was a smart kid. If something fishy happened, then he would notice. Right? RIGHT?
"This kid is so damn gullible!" Laughed Alan Blunt. He was sitting in his office watching Alex on his computer screen.
"I don't get what's so funny..." remarked Mrs. Jones. "All he's doing is sitting there." She glanced skeptically at the screen.
"Its not what he's doing..." Alan explained. "Its what he's thinking. The kid still hasn't figured out that he's on reality tv! Think we should arrange another mission for him? You know... just to get ratings up?"
"I don't know..." She bit her lip. "No offense, but don't you think you're fake missions are a bit dangerous? I mean, he's almost died... how many times now? What if he sues? He'll have the whole world to back him up!"
"No he won't," Alan Blunt scoffed, waving it aside. "He'll never figure it out, at least not at this rate. He's found our hidden cameras at least a dozen times, and hasn't even questioned them. Lets face it, this kid could never actually be a real spy! And its his own fault if he didn't want to be on this show, he should've read the finer print on his contract!"
"That wasn't a contract, that was a napkin. You asked him how to spell his name."
"Well who knew that Alex was spelled with an 'A'?"
Mrs. Jones sighed, as she and Alan returned to the screen. Alex was now practicing 'cool', flailing karate kicks in front of his mirror.
"Alex?" called Jack, from down stairs. "Alex? what's all that noise coming from?" She listened for a moment, but the loud crashes banging from his bedroom continued. She rolled her eyes and walked up the stairs. "Alex!" she knocked on his door. There was another crash, and then a groan and footsteps as Alex went to open the door.
"What is it?" He asked Moodily, seeing Jack standing in the hallway. He was sweating and wearing a MI6 T-shirt, that read 'I am a spy'.
"You were practicing karate again, weren't you." Jack said, leaning over to see that Alex had broken nearly everything in his room, including everyone of his spy gadgets that normally saved his ass from certain death.
"Yeah, why?" he asked, in a bored tone, that suggested he was about to get sarcastic. "Did you wanna fight me or something?"
"What?" Jack never understood his sarcasm. "No, I just wanted you to quiet down. And I'll have you know that I'm not paying to have your bed replaced again. If you shoot the mattress one more time, then it will be coming out of your allowance!"
"Fine," Alex huffed, rolling his eyes. "Just leave me alone..."
"Oh, and Alex! Just one more thing. The T-shirt is a bad idea. I mean if you really were a spy then-" She stopped herself midsentence, and threw a hand across her mouth. Now she'd done it! She'd revealed the truth about Alex not actually being a spy. There was a silence as Alex gazed with a shocked expression at her. "Sorry Alex, I didn't mean to-"
To her surprise Alex smiled.
"Its alright Jack." He said, suddenly all understanding. "I know its hard to get used to, and you probably worry about me when MI6 sends me out on missions, but you have to accept the fact that I am a spy. My line of work involves a lot of risk, but I promise you. I'll be okay." He then gave the shocked Jack Starbright an unexpected hug, "Don't worry."
"Uh...yeah." It was all jack could say. She'd been so sure that she'd blown MI6's cover, but apparently Alex wasn't even as smart as she'd thought... which was saying something, for she'd lived with Alex for quite some time and had only seen him do one smart thing...ever. That had been throwing himself out of his window one night. Too bad he'd caught hold of the gutters just in time...
"Well, good night." he said. "I've got to get some sleep. Blunt has asked me to come by his office tommorrow before school. Seems that they need me, again." He chuckled to himself. "Where would the world be without me protecting it?"
"Yeah...er, okay." Jack said, still amazed with what she'd gotten away with. "I'm just gonna...you know, go back downstairs. Um, good night I guess..." Alex smiled as she descended down the stairs.
Meanwhile...
"Phew," sighed Alan, still staring at the screen. "that was close. That American girl nearly gave us away."
Mrs. Jones was gazing horror struck over his shoulder. "Is he stoned or something?" She asked seriously. Alan Blunt laughed.
"No." He said. "He's just Alex. He's perfect for the show really. Never suspects a thing...unless we tell him to. Just like a dog, haha."
"Its not funny!" Mrs. Jones said firmly. "He's going to kill himself one of these days!" Alan just shrugged.
"Then it'll be a reality Tv special!" He said. "First reality Tv fatality, aired on national TV! Who will it be? Has Alex finally reached his boiling point-" Blunt's fake announcer voice was cut off as mrs, Jones slapped him across the face. Blunt just laughed.
"I need a peppermint." She muttered stalking out of the room. "And don't give him another mission, please." She called over her shoulder.
"Too late." Blunt called back "He's coming tomorrow morning."
The next day:
Alex rode to MI6's headquarters on his special bike. It had been custom made just for him, with the poor paint job his uncle had given it and a playing card stuck in the rear wheel that made the bike sound like a motorcycle... or a very annoying kazoo, but it was still his favorite bike, and he liked to point out how he wished he'd never outgrow it.
"Must he always ride that thing here?" asked Blunt, as he looked out the window to see Alex approaching the building. He was cringing and wore the expression of one who was about to be sick. "The thing is an eye sore. I swear we lose viewers everytime that junk pile is shown!"
"It's just a bike Alan." Said Mrs. Jones. "Sheesh, can't the kid have the right to ride whatever the hell he wants to?"
"No." Alan said, actually taking the question quite seriously. "I say we design some invigorrating plot to have his bike smashed to bits... and then we'll blame it on Yassen Gregorovich. We'll have to make it seem real though... or else he might just start thinking."
Mrs. Jones frowned. "And what's so hard about having someone put it in the middle of the road while he's up here talking with you?" She'd expected an answer... there was always a reason they couldn't do the obvious, but apparently blunt hadn't thought of the obvious.
"Good thinking!" He exclaimed. "Why... why didn't I think of that? Jones, you're a genius you know!"
"No, I didn't mean-" Began Mrs. Jones,
"I'll just keep him distracted while you move the bike!"
"Me?" asked Mrs. Jones. "But sir, as much fun as you're having with this whole 'lets get old Ian back for his practical jokes' thing, we are still working for the government! We have jobs, and need I remind you how many times we've almost lost Tony blair in the last couple of months?"
Alan looked disheartened. "Fine, the bike can stay..." he sighed. "And I promise this will be the last mission I give Alex. The show will be canceled after that."
"Good." Mrs.Jones smiled. "And I suggest you break the news to him fairly soon. I mean, if you want ratings up then do it during his mission."
"Mr. Rider is here," Said a very annoyed sounding secretary as she walked into the room to refill Blunt's coffee cup. "He keeps on asking for coke, and then dumping it into various potted plants! The kid is driving me insane! I told him to stop it, but he said you'd fire me if I didn't get him whatever he wanted!"
"Don't worry, Rose," Said Blunt. (secretaries are always named after plants). "He'll be gone by next week. We're canceling the show."
"Really?" Asked the Secretary, suddenly looking delighted. "Well that's exellent news sir! I've actually considered quitting my job these last few weeks! Now I won't have to." She finished refilling the two cups and went back out to get Alex, humming the entire time. A moment later Alex Rider stepped into the room, trying to look suave and cool...like James Bond. However, the tuxedo was far too big and he merely looked like a small child playing dress up.
"Hmmm..." Said Alan, regaurding his outfit with extreme disapproval. "Let me guess, are you a magician today?"
"James Bond..." muttered Alex. There was a silence as Blunt continued to stare at the outfit. Uncomfortable, Alex finally spoke. "So...er, what's my new mission?"
"Is that an actual James bond suit?" asked Blunt, disregaurding the question. "Like, from the movies?"
"Yeah..." Alex said. "Don't you like it? I thought it would make me look like more of a spy..."
"Where did you get it?" Blunt was already scheming about how he could get rid of it.
"Ebay... But why are you so interested? I thought I was here for a mission, not a fashion lecture! And its not a fake! The owner assured me that it was made specifically for a fan of the movies!"
"That doesn't mean Sean Connery wore it!" Blunt said, "In fact, that states just the opposite! Made for a fan!"
"Are you implying that I, super spy kid Alex Rider, was fooled! Never! Nobody can outsmart me! Not even that shady Artemis Fowl character that so many people pair me up with. This suit was taylor made for someone called..." he looked at the name embroidered onto his front pocket. "...Biddy Mulligins. See?" He stuck out his chest proudly.
"Maybe if I contacted Yassen, I could have him- what?" Blunt said. He had accidentally started to scheme out loud, and missed everything Alex had just said. "Oh...yes yes, um. So about your next mission, I think you should have a seat Alex... this may come as a bit of a surprise..."
Alex suddenly put on his concerned, but serious face and sat down. "What is it Alan? Is it about...my...my parents?" His lower lip trembled.
"Uh... no," Alan said, giving the boy a somewhat reluctant pat on the back. "Its just a mission..."
"OH, okay!" Alex said cheerfully. "So all you want me to do is risk my neck and almost get me killed again, for the sake of the world or something, while almost completely relying on luck?"
"Do I detect sarcasm?" Blunt growled. Alex looked genuinely confused... though that was probably because he WAS genuinely confused.
"No sir..." he said. "I'm merely repeating what you always have me do..."
"Oh, right." Alan said. "Just so long as you're not being a smart ass, like you usually are..."
"I'm not a smart ass!" Alex said. "You know nothing about me! You just use me, like always! Spying is stupid, I hate it! I wish I'd never met you!" Alex's face was growing red with rage. "All you want to do is get information by risking my life, and its not fair!"
"That's not what we want to do," Mrs, Jones lied, nervously nibbling at another peppermint.
"Thank you Mrs. Jones, but you're not my mother! I quit! I won't do it! ...when can I start?"
"Tommorrow." Alan blunt said calmly. He'd been absentmindedly stirring his coffee as he'd been waiting for the ever familiar 'child abuse' speech to end, and now took a sip as he handed Alex a folder, with the big, red, bold words 'TOP SECRET' written obviously across it. Alex snatched it hungrilly, and looked as if mesmorized at the red letters.
"I suggest you read it at home Alex, so that you won't annoy me with your many questions." Blunt said. "But I'll give you a brief description of what will be expected of you."
"Why do I have to eat bugs?" asked Alex, who had started reading the file anyhow.
"Read it at home!" Blunt snapped, grabbing the folder away from Alex and rolling his eyes as the boy's eye's began to water. "I'll give it back before you leave." He assured the young 'spy'. Alex tried to look defiant, but he really REALLY wanted it back.
"You're mean..." he finally muttered, after having failed the defiant scowl.
"Yes, well that's what I'm paid for." Blunt smiled. "Now if I could just have you turn your chair slightly so that the camera can have a better shot of your face..."
Alex nodded, and unquestioningly turned his chair. "There, is that good?" asked Alex. Blunt nodded "Mrs. Jones, are you alright?"
Mrs.Jones was, again, looking horrified.
"Er...she's fine..." Said Blunt. "Now if you could just lift your face up...a little higher. There." Said Blunt. "Sorry, bad lighting... Okay, now let me fill you in."
"Can I have a coke?" asked Alex. "I'm really thirsty..."
"No." said Blunt. "you'll only dump it out when I'm not looking..."
"Purleeze!' persisted Alex. "My throat is parched..."
"We have business to talk about!" Blunt said exasperated.
"Just give him the coke..." Mrs. Jones said calmly. "I'll see to it that he doesn't do anything bad." She smiled warmly at Alex... but Alex rolled his eyes.
"Fine," Blunt got up and, minutes later, returned with a coke. "There happy?" Blunt asked.
"Yaaaa-up!" Alex said annoyingly, and popped the can open.
"Good." Blunt sat down. "Now what we're going to do is send you, under cover-"
"Under cover?" asked Alex, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit extreme?"
"Alex, we always send you under cover..." said Blunt.
"You do?" asked Alex, his eyes suddenly widening. "How come you never told me?" Blunt sighed, and closed his eyes as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"Could you please just listen while I try to explain this?" asked Blunt. "I'm tired of all of your stupid questions, and truthfully you're really damn annoying...Alex...ALEX! Stop slurping your coke!"
"I wasn't slurping!" Alex said defensively. Blunt opened his eyes to see that Alex's nose was dripping. "I was trying to snort it. See, I heard that if You snort coke, you can get high-"
"That's cocaine!" Blunt said through gritted teeth. "Mrs. Jones, why don't you try to explain it..." he said, turning to his partner.
"Me!" she asked, looking horrified again. "I told you I wanted no part in this, Alan! You explain it, it was YOUR idea!"
"Yes, but the boy listens to YOU!" Blunt said, still through gritted teeth.
"Can I get a coke?" asked Alex.
"I just gave you one..." Blunt said, not turning towards Alex since he was apparently trying to stare mrs.Jones into submission...it wasn't working...
"This isn't coke." Alex whined. "It's some off brand! I want a real coke!"
"Alex... can you read?" asked Blunt, whithering under the glare that Mrs.Jones was shooting at him.
"Yeah..." Alex said.
"Are you still holding the can?"
"Yup." Alex replied.
"Then READ the label on the SIDE of the friggin CAN!"
"It says Coke.."
"Then what's the problem?"
"The can's lying!" Alex said stubbornly. "I know what Coke tastes like and this most definitely is NOT coke!"
"why on earth would the can lie? Listen to your self Alex! You sound like a five year old-" Blunt suddenly gave a yelp as he felt something cold rush down the back of his neck. "Alex!" He growled warningly, turning towards the boy. "You better not have done what I think you just did..." He heard Mrs. Jones stifle a laugh as she saw the back of Blunt's shirt. Alex was glaring defiantly at him.
"It is NOT coke!" He said, and threw the empty can on to the floor. Alex sat down and folded his arms, "I want a real coke," He said, "The one from Coca Cola! The real stuff! NOW!" He roared the last part out and ended it with a belch.
"Thats disgusting," Said Blunt, "If you can't behave then you won't get to do this mission,"
Suddenly Alex was off of his chair and pounding his fists into the floor. "I WANNA COKE! I WANT REAL COKE! I WANT THE COKE AND THE MISSION!" From the floor below them there could be heard angry yelling from a business meeting.
"Alright! Alright!" Said Blunt, cringing as the telephone started ringing.
"Mr. Blunt," Came the secretary's voice over the intercom, "Some people from down stairs want a word with you in the alley behind the building."
"Alex!" Blunt said frustratedly as the youth continued to kick the floor, "I already said you would get your coke, just shut the hell up and sit back in your chair!"
Alex stopped, got up, sat down and belched again, then he stared at Mrs. Jones and said "I want a peppermint too," He held out his hand expectantly but Mrs. Jones was eating them obsessively and didn't notice.
"Could I get some rope!" Blunt called out, to the secretary. He looked doubtfully at the boy and then added "A lot of rope!"
thirty minutes later Alex was tied to his chair. Imprisoning the boy had taken some time, considering that Alex had tried to jump out of the window twice, and had even attempted to stab Blunt with a ball point pen.
"Now listen up." panted the sweating Alan Blunt. "Because I'm only going to explain this once! We're sending you to a remote island in the south pacific, where you will have to try and survive the harsh wilderness without any outside help. Your companions will be 47 people who have recently been stranded on the island after their Oceanic flight went down-"
"Ahem.' Coughed Mrs. Jones. "Er... that's the show Lost..." she said. "I think you were going to tell Alex about his assignment in Ireland?"
"Oh...right..." said Blunt.
"Hold on..." Said Alex, suddenly looking warilly at each of them. "This sounds awefully familliar..."
"Er...well, we thought you needed a bit of a challenge, and he could be your match-"
"Are you talking about what I THINK you're talking about!" Alex demanded.
"Not likely..." Muttered Mrs. Jones...
"Its Fowl?" growled Alex, his eyes narrowing. "Why do I always get paired with Fowl?"
"So you just assume that when we say Ireland, we're talking about Artemis Fowl?" Asked Blunt raising an eyebrow. "Ireland's a big country Alex. Its home to millions of people, not just one fourteen year old..."
"But it is him, isn't it!" Alex pouted.
"Well... yes." Blunt replied. "I know its disappointing Alex, but we're just trying to follow the fad. Do this, and I'll start paying you double."
"You don't pay me anything!" Alex accused.
"Yes, well then it won't make a difference will it?"
"But I don't want to!" Whined Alex. "Your plan to have me meet Artemis Fowl will probably be seriously flawed and won't make any sense whatsoever, firstly because he ISN'T a threat to the government as he has now decided to work on the side of good, and secondly because, according to his author, Artemis Fowl could never be outsmarted that easily! Plus there is absolutely no reason for a boy my age to go and try to compete with his bodyguard! This is ridiculous, even I know that!"
"Your plane leaves tomorrow Alex." Said Blunt. "You do this, or Jack dies."
"Grrr! Why must I always be blackmailed! You'd think I would've learned to avoid showing my weaknesses by now."
"You'd think..." Agreed Blunt.