A/N: Hello! Welcome back….

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Artemis Fowl. If I did, I wouldn't be wasting my time with a fanfiction. On with the show!

Task Two: The Obstacle Course of DOOM!

Again, the four contestants faced a difficult challenge: Surviving the day without going absolutely insane.

"Let me guess," yawned Foaly, examining his nails thoughtfully. "A dangerous task, fraught with perils beyond comprehension."

Root didn't bother with an angry reply. "This next challenge is an obstacle course. Don't take it lightly, though, because it will be the most difficult. On the buzzer…. ready…. set…."

A loud buzzer rang, and the four ran out of the starting gate feverishly (In Foaly's case, cantered).

Mulch immediately unhinged his jaw. It is, of course, a proven fact that dwarves can burrow faster than they can run. Foaly was the fastest, owing to his uncanny ability to gallop faster than most other centaurs. Root was pretty much average. His tiny legs prevented him from going over 1 mile per hour. Artemis was the slowest. His poor physical conditions made him sweat hard, and after a couple of minutes, he dropped to his knees. A furry creature popped out of the earth a few meters ahead, and turned back to look at Artemis.

"Aw, what's wrong, Mud Boy?" Teased Mulch. "The hurdles are next."

The boy had a slight mental spasm. "Hurdles?" He said meekly. Very unlike him.

Mulch grinned, showing rows of tombstone teeth. "Yes, Mud Boy. Hurdles. Think you can take 'em?" The dwarf disappeared back under the ground.

Meanwhile, Foaly was running ahead nonchalantly, feeling quite full of himself. "I think I'll rest awhile. Those hurdles really took a lot off of me." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Root was gaining slowly, until he could see Foaly's hairy behind over a short hurdle.

"D'Arvit," murmured Root, stumbling to become faster. "That civilian is going to beat me. Time for some…. Rule breaking."

Of course, Root is horrible at tricking people, especially when they are as astute as Foaly (Excuse me, did I say astute? I meant paranoid.) Unfortunately, this paranoia pushed the line in Root's favor.

"Hey, Foaly!" Cried the commander between rushed breaths, "Opal…. Opal Koboi!" He pointed to the sky aimlessly, but nevertheless, Foaly looked.

This was all the advantage Beetroot needed. He used last of his energy to speed in front of the centaur with a loud, "Ha!"

Now, let's join our favorite dwarf.

The dirt was moist and easily accessible, and his ahem gas, propelled him further. Suddenly, his bowels groaned. Oh, no, he thought miserably, not now! Pain racked his entire body and he moaned loudly. I'll have to pull my own trigger.

Mulch leaned slowly and took his little toe between his thumb and index finger. He squeezed, hard. Once this happened, all of the built up pressure in his body blasted out one end, sending him careening ahead. Not to mention making him feel much better. Excuse me if this makes you sick.

Artemis was ways behind the group, his vision blurred and his Armani suit was drenched in sweat. I smell like BO, he thought angrily. What's the point in continuing? After this deduction, Artemis stopped, and sat sulking, much like a bratty child.

Unfortunately for our little genius, when the race ended, he was dead last, Root first, Foaly second, and Mulch third. Root, although his face glowed with the heat of the competition, still had fight enough in him to boast.

"And that, my friends, was a race," announced Root. Mulch scowled, rolled his eyes, and unbuttoned his flap.

I'm sure we all know what comes next.

A/N: Next up: Any real man knows how to: Talk to a girl? Yikes.