Special thanks to Faeiry-girl, who subscribed to my story and inspired me to add another chapter! Please review!

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"Sofie, hon, where ya been?" Asks mama as I walk through the door, as if she doesn't know. Lefty comes in behind me, all scars and muscles, with our sedated captive over his shoulder. He grunts and heads off to the back room, where my level seven containment chamber is waiting to be started up. I give mama a half smile and take a seat at the computer beside hers.

"Oh, you know, mama. Just out having a great time like I always do. With all those new drugs to try, who wouldn't?" Mama laughs a bit and reclines in her chair. She isn't really my mother, but everyone calls her mama, just because she's ridiculously sweet and nurturing for someone in our buisness. That, and she seems to be in control of everyone, even the meat-hunks like Lefty. With a few huffs, the big man came back through the door, huffing and puffing like a wimp.

"For a skinny, weenie of a boy-genius, that little fucker is heavy!" He growls, and plops down on the couch nest to my chair. Mama gives him a chastising, disappointed look and raps him on his egg-bald, yet incredibly scarred head.

"Romello!" She harps, using his full name for her benefit, "Don't use that sort of language in my house!" She shakes her head and whaps him with a newspaper lying on the desk by the computer. He flinches before it even hits him, and I laugh to see such a sight. Mama is in her mid-forties, and is an itsy-bitsy Latina sweetie no taller than four feet and nine inches, and Lefty is at least six feet tall, and is muscular enough to put most pro-wrestlers to shame. Not to mention, he can sit mama on his shoulder comfortably.

"Owieeee..." Lefty whines, and he cringes in his chair as mama walks out of the room. He stares after her and then turns to me. "Alright, smarty-pants. The little fucker is all yours."

I smile and head off to the room with my captive and almost make it there before I hear mama yelling at the top of her lungs.

"ROMELLO! I HEARD THAT!" Followed by her heeled shoes clicking as she stormed in from the kitchen. Lefty grabs his car keys and bolts out the door, and I am left to attend to my prisoner while mama mutters in spanish and Lefty's tires screech on the open road. That's family for ya.

The famed, untouchable, prestigious, brilliant, almost-worshipped boy-genius Artemis Fowl is slumped in a reclined chair with drool all down his chin. Real classy, Einstein, real classy...

I strap on my gloves and goggles and fire up my computer, then my neuro-beam, then I set the perimeter for the chamber. I glance at mister drooling genius and shut the door behind me, turn out the lights and program my neuro-beam. It's dead silent, mama having gone back to her work in the kitchen, other than my humming neuro-beam. I stare at Artemis, then glance back to my moniter and hit the enter key with excessive drama.

Sweet dreams, my drooling genius. I think, and then the neuro-beam hits him squarely in the forehead.