I'm back!
I've made some alterations to chapters 1-4 and they are downloaded. Most are minor and easy to overlook, but there's one in 'Doody' that I particularly enjoyed writing. A scene between a disgruntled Holly and an overzealous pixie with a modified Brooklyn accent...check it out!
I'm sorry that I have not as yet revealed the new villain...don't worry, it's coming. You'll just have to be patient.
Thank you for reading and reviewing. I'm looking forward to more insight and I appreciate the support.
Zimbabwe…blast you, Zimbabwe.
Empty schedule…blast you, empty schedule.
Guilt ridden conscience…blast.
Pointless lists of recent regrets…blast it all.
"We'll never eat that much, Butler," Artemis said, skimming over the mini buffet that Butler was cooking up. Several dishes had already been made and were sitting on the counter on various metal platters.
"I know. We're expecting someone for dinner."
Butler casually flipped a steak over in the sauté pan.
"Who are we expecting? Mulch Diggums?"
Butler was silent.
"Are you serious?" Artemis asked. "Mulch?"
Butler nodded. "I saw him skulking around on the east garden camera," he explained. "Uprooting your mother's tulips, I might add."
"Why is he here?"
Butler shrugged. "I don't know. But he will eat all of our food eventually. We might as well give him a warm welcome."
"Not too warm, I hope. He'll push Ireland into another famine at the rate he eats. And did you really have to make everything gourmet? Now he'll never leave."
Dinner was an extremely quiet affair. Meals are generally that way when the host is expecting a kleptomaniac dwarf to pop through the front door at any moment.
Artemis was using the quietness and his photographic memory to recall exactly how many people had sat in his chair. Forty-three, if he counted correctly. Diplomats, ambassadors, politicians, gangsters, mobsters, Mafia…the chair had seated them all. Now its occupant was a lone boy that was stagnating where he sat.
Artemis was pulled out of his reverie by what sounded like a bark from Butler. The boy's head jerked upward into the face of his generally stoic and straight-faced bodyguard and was surprised to see that the bark that Butler had released was actually a bark of laughter.
"Awkward silences," Butler explained, chuckling. "I remember Juliet telling me something she heard from a guy in her troupe. He said that 'every time there is an awkward silence, a madman is born'," he said, shaking his head. "Twelve have been born in this last half hour alone."
"Highly illogical," Artemis bit back, stabbing a piece of asparagus.
"Aren't you going to explain why exactly that it illogical?"
"Not right now."
"That is very unlike you, Master Artemis. Not wanting to put in your two cents, now that's illogical…" Butler added, mouth twitching.
"It is illogical because we have met nearly every single madman in the world to date. There have been too many awkward silences to accommodate them all," Artemis explained. "Shall we make a list? Opal Koboi---"
"Mad-woman," Butler corrected.
"Jon Spiro, Briar Cudgeon…you name it. Any I missed, Mulch?"
"Just one, Mr. Madman," sounded a gruff voice under the table. "And how did you know I was here?"
"Smell," Butler explained shortly.
"You'd smell the same way if you'd been diggin' around in compost all day," Mulch retorted, climbing out from under the table and taking an un-offered seat between the two Mudmen. "I always enjoy burrowing through the Fowl estate. Very rich soil. Is that chicken cordon bleu?"
Artemis and Butler cast a meaningful glance at each other.
"Dig in, Mulch. At least we won't have to worry about leftovers."
Mulch didn't necessarily have to receive an invitation to begin eating.
"So," he said, sauce dribbling on his filthy breeches. "How are things?"
"Well enough," Artemis replied. "We were going to ask you the same question, but I think we can answer that inquiry ourselves."
"Hungry?" Butler quipped.
"Heck yes! I'm starving!"
"I see," Artemis muttered. "And why are you here?"
"Aw, that hurts, Arty," Mulch mumbled like a martyr, bypassing the asparagus and going straight for the steak. "Is it a crime to visit an old friend?"
"I doubt that was your original motive," Artemis stated. "And we may be friends, but not enough to bestow casual visits. It is more likely that you wanted to better acquaint yourself with my vault."
"Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a thousand needles in my eye, I came here simply to visit. Nothing more. I was in the neighborhood."
"Stealing more equipment from Tara, I suppose," Butler guessed.
"No," Mulch spat. "Have I really lost all trust with you guys?"
"I don't think there was any to begin with."
"You know what?" Mulch said, hopping off of his chair. His chin barely cleared the top of the table. "If you aren't gonna treat me with some respect, I'll just leave. It's clear you don't want me here anymore."
"Oh no, please stay," Artemis said dryly. "I don't think we have enough room in the refrigerator for leftovers. And I doubt that your hunger is satiated already."
"Now that you mention it," Mulch said, mounting his chair again. "I am still hungry. And this is really good, Butler. I know Artemis didn't make it because he manages to make a sandwich look like somebody had stuffed it with C4 and pushed the button."
Artemis looked mildly wounded. "I'm going to do myself a favor and not take that personally."
Mulch smiled a toothy grin. "Oh, it was personal."