The Time Grub Beat Trouble…Almost.

(Shocking, I know)

Arty shan't be in this one, children. Nope. This will focus mainly on everyone's favorite LEP Major and his annoying little brother.

My Harry Potter story has over a hundred reviews, and I seem to randomly get more when I least expect it. So far, this story has 19. HP: Around 22 chapters, AF: 7 (8, if you count this one), if I remember correctly. But, as I write this, the Artemis Fowl category has 1771 stories, including my own, and the Harry Potter category has 249,155. You tell me which is more popular. Well, Arty will show that bastard Harry what's up, with his Emo-kid angst and bloody wrists and horrible music and fashion sense. …And that's my rant for today… Enjoy.

Grub Kelp sat in his cubicle putting off some rather unimportant paperwork, muttering to himself in a rather Gollum-esque way. Yes, it seemed his older brother was always better than him in someway, what with his wicked cool name and higher position in the LEP hierarchy and slightly larger rabid fangirl following than his own. Grub knew if he thought long and hard enough, he'd eventually come up with something he could best Trouble at, but so far, all he had was a headache and rapidly falling self-esteem.

Well, this was taking too long. Grub wandered away, forever ignoring his meaningless job, to find his brother. As it turned out, Trouble was in his own cubicle or whatever the hell it was that he had as a work station.

"Hey, Trubs!" he said cheerily.

"Trouble." His brother corrected him, without even looking up from his work.

"Erm…Right. Well. I was wondering…What's something you're not very good at?"

Trouble still did not look up from his work. Grub bothered him enough as it was, he didn't really feel like being interviewed at the moment.

"…Why?"

"Cuz, I wanna know…Erm…Because. Because, erm…I admire you lots and lots and I bet there isn't anything you're not good at? Heheh…erm…Yeah."

Trouble, being the amazingly clever elf that he was, knew Grub was just full of crap. Well. You didn't really have to be clever to figure that out, but Trouble knew it nonetheless. But, anything to get rid of his little brother, so, he tried to answer the question with as few words as possible.

"Eh…I've never been much for knitting potholders."

"Really!"

"Uh-huh. Is that all?" Trouble didn't even bother to try and hide his irritation.

"Yup, that's all! Bye, Trubs!"

"TROUBLE! Er…Ugh…" But it was too late, because Grub had already scampered off, feeling immensely clever and proud that his plan had actually worked.

At this moment, Trouble was making a mental note to himself to leave something dead under Grub's pillow (which is what the author will do to all of you who don't review).

At lunch time, Grub did not go to mommy's house and ask her to make him a sandwich. Instead, he went straight to the craft store and bought all the yarn and knitting supplies he could find. When he returned to work, he continued to put off his paperwork and got to knitting the biggest potholder IN THE WORLD (or under it) straight away. When it was time to go home, he collected his supplies and his already growing soon-to-be potholder and left.

He hurried home as fast as his stubby little legs would carry him, and immediately set to work on the potholder again. He worked all night, and for the next week and a half, he continued to bring the potholder to work with him, and take it home every night, until it was big enough to wrap around Butler several times. When his monstrous creation was finished, he brought it to work, and displayed it proudly for all to see.

"KELP! GET THAT HIDEOUS THING OUT OF HERE! THIS IS NOT A CRAFT SHOW!" The commander yelled at him immediately.

Grub's lower lip quivered slightly, and he began to whine.

"But…But…I knitted the world's biggest potholder! All by myself! Trouble can't even knit a normal-sized one! My mommy even said it was real nice, and she knits the best potholders and sweaters and tea-cozies ever!"

At this point in time, Holly had decided to use the sudden commotion as an excuse to put off her own paperwork (Hey, this is beginning to sound like me in English class!) and wandered over to see what Grub was whining about now.

"Wow…You really have no life, do you?"

Grub was on the verge of tears. Why the hell didn't anyone care! He'd worked so hard on the potholder, too…

Foaly chose this moment to trot over and put off his own work as well (HUZZAH for procrastination).

"Ah, there, there. Have a cookie." Foaly chuckled as he produced a cookie from seemingly out of nowhere, and handed it to Grub.

Well…At least he'd gotten something out of this.

Just as he was about to chomp down on the cookie to see if it would magically make all his pain and suffering go away, Trouble Kelp burst through the doors.

"Sorry I'm late, you guys wouldn't believe how hard it was to haul this thing all the way here!"

All eyes turned to Trouble, as he was standing next to an enormous potholder, at least twice as big as Grub's.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Someone cried.

"Sweet Frond, that's AWESOME!" Another person yelled.

Then, all of a sudden, cookies began to rain from out of nowhere upon Trouble and his wonderful potholder.

Author's Note: This has to be the DUMBEST thing I've ever written…

Wait. Scratch that. I'm sure there's dumber.

If this has been a cartoon instead of a poorly-written fanfic, Grub's wimpy little girly-man jaw would have dropped to the floor. Why was this happening to him? What was wrong with the world? If there was any sort of supernatural entity out there that controlled the universe, it must have been a sadistic bastard that enjoyed watching Grub fail at everything he tried. But hey, who doesn't?

Er…Yeah. Review, please.

Let us all rejoice for Trouble in all his amazing potholder-knitting glory.