The long awaited next chapter of the Fartemit Owl series. You know, waiting for the next chapters are really annoying, isn't it. Oops, I won't bother you any longer.

(Author's Note: In case you haven't read my bio lately, the prologue of the next Fartemit Owl story is now on line, in my Open Diary website under the name, My Artemis Fowl Parody or something. Enjoy.)

To my reviewers:

Spectra16: Why, thank you. You know, you could do with more staff in your C2...

PeanutButterII: Ask any good Japanese friend of yours and they'll look at you as if you're some retarded dumbass. No offense. Say, did you know there's going to be a new Hitchhiker's Guide to The Galaxy movie coming out this year? Can't wait.

yellow reviews: Indeed, folks, laughter is the best medicine for anything!

RenegadeMustang(Lazy): I know. It's very encouraging, these sort of reviews. Not like some I could mention (glares at TheSpaminator)

TheSpaminator: Hmmm. A plot, eh? That might be hard...

The CheezHead: If it wasn't parallel enough to the story, would it still be a parody? I don't know. I can't think straight right now.

Chapter 7. The Incredibly Complicated Translation (And A Guest Appearance By A Well-Known Character!)

The calendar was blank. No words, no lines, just pages and pages of stark white pages. Fartemit looked at page after page, but couldn't find anything of use. He tried bashing it on the desk, stamping on it, crying on it, punching it, throwing it in the oven, drenching the thing in lemon juice, and yet, he couldn't find anything. No letters magically appeared in front of him.

Fartemit burst into tears, and cried very, very loudly. The sound echoed around the halls of the Owl residence. Soon, Buttleg's younger sister, Plopiet came rushing in. She was Miss Universe for five years running, she was a toned athlete, she was a martial arts master, and had the mental capacity the same size as Einstein. She taught, or rather tried to teach Fartemit tae-kwon-do, but to no avail; his eyes and mind were directed somewhere else. Her.

Anyway, she saw Fartemit junior crying, and instantly was at his side, trying to comfort him, and trying to find out what had made him cry. She cuddled him, and he instantly stopped.

"You're cuddling me," whispered Fartemit. "Can we go even further?" His comments were always like this (perverted), but Plopiet was always taken aback by this child's lack of morals.

Plopiet screamed, "Peeeeerveeeert!!!" She pushed away, rubbed her hands, and started slapping Fartemit as hard and as fast as Brolly. In fact, she would have probably come in the Top Ten Female Slapper List of The Year, if a human were ever allowed in the competition.

Soon, Fartemit was forced down under a barrage of slapping to the wall. ('Boy, is Fartemit inauspicious. He gets slapped quite a lot of times!' –Artemis Fowl the Second, exclusively from Fowl Manor) His face is as red as Commander Julius Root, and glowing like a dimmed light bulb. After a while, Plopiet paused to take a breather. Fartemit relaxed, and started to move across the room to the door. Plopiet spotted his extremely tiny movement, and pinned him by his neck, to the wall. With her other hand, she took out her Mokia® mobile phone, and speed dialed a number.

"Hello?" asked the person at the other end.

"Juliet? Hi! Look, can you come over immediately? Fartemit is being a real pain and… yeah? Great! Come over now!" replied Plopiet, and tucked her phone away.

Ten minutes later, in the middle of another slapping fury, Juliet Butler stepped into the room. For no reason whatsoever, the author had decided to include her, and her pockets were bulging with the author's bribe money. She took one look at the situation, and immediately took action. She took her place next to Plopiet, and started to slap Fartemit along side Plopiet, as furiously as her parodied counter-part. Soon, Fartemit was unconscious, and both women had stopped slapping the immobile child prodigy. Plopiet thanked Juliet, and waved goodbye as she walked out.

- - - - -

When Fartemit came to, he was placed on his father's desk, his butt squishing the fairy calendar. Suddenly, he felt a burst of gas, and gave the calendar a full blast of the Owl Fart Power (the OFP). He got off the desk, and just as he was about to run from the room, he found that symbols had suddenly appeared out of nowhere on the cover of the calendar. He quickly took the calendar, and dashed out of the room. Decontamination for the OFP usually took over three hours.

Fartemit examined the calendar once more, and found that it looked more like a computer screen, with a number of languages running down the side, and a scroll on the side. The scroll was tiny, and I mean tiny. Fartemit found a magnifying glass and a ballpoint pen, and started to scroll down the 'page'. Soon, he found the more human languages: French, Nigerian, German, Japanese, and finally, English. Fartemit also briefly saw strange languages such as Dumbnerdian, Sglorkafingo Beta Dingo's Fetid Underpantian, Nonsense, Squabble, and a lot of others. He used the pen, and pressed the link that said, 'Please Click Here For English, You Stinkin' Human'. The calendar immediately glowed with a hundred words in English. Unbelievably, all the secrets of the fairies were laid out before a retarded ten year-old human.

He scrolled through the pages with amazement in his eyes. There were pages of information on culture, rituals, and even pictures of the previous Kings and Presidents of their underground home, Cave-in. There were manuals of gadgets, names of inventors, agents, commanders, and such. Top secret operations, foreign spies, it was all laid before him. Fartemit rubbed his hands, and gave an evil laugh. Time to plan disastrous and crazy plans for world domination that was bound to fail.

The laugh attracted Buttleg, who had been secretly watching Cartoon Network® on Fartemit's hidden wall TV. Buttleg had been warned by Fartemit Owl senior (before he had disappeared) that whenever his son laughed like that, he was to 'drop kick the little mongrel on the butt' to get rid of it. He had a graph showing how many times he had done it every week. On average, he drop kicked Fartemit around fifteen times a week.

Buttleg walked out of Fartemit's room, and approached the laughter. All of the sudden, it stopped. Alarmed, Buttleg dashed into the room, to find Fartemit dehydrated from laughing so hard. He was on the floor, grinning like a buffoon. Even though he wasn't laughing anymore, Buttleg drop kicked the boy anyway, just to emphasize… er… well, something surely.

As Buttleg was about to leave, Fartemit called to him, but since he was dehydrated, Buttleg didn't hear him, and walked out, no doubt to continue watching Baby Looney Toons or whatnot.

Sorry if that was short. R&R!