Artemis studied the problem in front of him with his usual attention to detail. Though he would not let it show on his face, this was surely one of the most difficult, complex dilemmas he'd ever been faced with. He didn't intend to let this overcome him, of course. He would come up with a solution. He always did.
A frown (which looked very at home there) appeared on Artemis' face. His mind was wandering. That had been becoming increasingly frequent these days. That would need to stop if any of his plans were to succeed.
But back to the problem at hand. Artemis turned his gaze downward.
And there it was-a slightly damp, and most definitely rumpled white shirt.
Artemis' frown deepened, creating a slash between his eyebrows. He saw this kind of thing every day, but this was one instance where his mind couldn't provide a solution. Hesitantly, he picked up a sleeve, but then let it drop. Butler's parting words echoed in his head.
I haven't had a vacation since the day you were born, Artemis. It's just for a few days. You can take care of yourself for that long, surely?
Artemis now understood the joking tone behind the words. Not only was Butler gone, but his parents and the twins had left a week previous to Disneyland Paris. He was alone in Fowl Manor.
From a security point of view, it was quite safe. All of the Fowl enterprises were now aboveboard, but that did not deter the many thieves who had their eyes on the unimaginable wealth the robbery of Fowl Manor could bring. Butler had contacted some old friends who had been glad to do some guard work at the doors and were willing to be on-call for a possible break-in. Artemis wasn't overly concerned. He was fairly sure that the only beings who could get past his advanced security system would not be human, though they would hopefully be friends.
His mind was wandering again. Artemis couldn't believe this. He was definitely going soft, if he couldn't keep his mind on a problem for such a paltry amount of time.
He directed his deep blue eyes toward the shirt in front of him. If Holly Short, his elfin friend, could see him now, she would never let him hear the end of it.
Artemis Fowl, child prodigy and plotter of evil schemes was completely unable to fold a shirt.
He had managed the washing machine alright, that had been simplicity in itself. The machine did all the work. It was top of the line, and the most eco-friendly on the market. It could analyze the clothes put into it, and then would calculate exactly how much soap was needed, then would draw that amount from the soap it had in storage. It would perform similar calculations for water, insuring that there was no waste at all. All Artemis had to do was put the load in. The problem was the actual folding. It was mysterious process. Artemis had already tried several times, to no avail. Each attempt had warranted a strange knot of cloth, that Artemis knew was definitely not how a folded shirt was supposed to look.
After several more moments of thought, Artemis decided to abandon his shirt-folding dilemma, and move onto areas of more pressing importance.
His stomach had been complaining at him for the last few hours. Artemis Fowl the Second was not used to be hungry, and he found he did not care for the sensation. Artemis left the laundry room and quested out into the hallway.
Artemis had memorized the blueprints to the Manor at the age of six, an exercise his father had insisted on. But while blue prints were all very well in your head, in the actual place, it's a bit more difficult to navigate. Artemis had been to the kitchens before, of course, but finding his way there from the laundry room (which he did not frequent) was going to be a challenge. Artemis mentally reviewed the blueprints in his head, then walked stiffly down the dark hallway. Five minutes and a few wrong turns later, he found himself in the first of the Manor's extensive kitchens.
Now, what to eat?
Artemis was a fan of fresh salads, and decided to make an attempt at preparing one. It seemed about the easiest thing he could try. Maybe afterward, he'd locate some caviar and snack in front of the TV. Immediately, Artemis banished the possibility from his mind. Listen to him. Snacking? Next thing you knew, he'd be smoking illegal cigarettes and trying to- to skateboard.
Artemis shuddered slightly, then selected a sharp a knife from the cutlery drawer. Butler was apt to use swords and flamethrowers in his cooking, Artemis was willing to take his chances with a butter knife and an oven. Or maybe just a microwave.
Leaving the knife on the marble countertop, Artemis cast his eyes about the room. Where would one put lettuce? He wondered, examining the wooden drawers as if to X-ray them, while dredging up everything he knew about lettuce.
Lettuce was a vegetable, and therefore prey to winged pests, not to mention fungi. The fridge then. Artemis turned to the massive stainless steel appliance. The door slid open easily, blasting Artemis with cold air. He examined the shelves closely each one was labeled, and all the labels looked new.
Artemis grimaced. Butler had anticipated him. He glanced down, locating three shelves labeled vegetables. Searching all of them, he found several heads of lettuce. They had all been grown on the Manor grounds, he knew. Angeline Fowl, Artemis' mother, had forbidden the purchase of supermarket lettuce when she discovered that it was cleansed in chlorine.
Trying to keep his enormous brain from spouting off in all directions, Artemis rolled the smallest head from the inside the fridge onto the central island. He examined it for a few moments, then pulled a few leaves off. That was what he was supposed to do, right?
Now what?
Artemis rarely came across things he was not certain of. Generally, the only time he was put into that situation was when spending time in the company of either of his female friends, Holly or Minerva. One could never be certain with girls.
In this case, however, he could employ his usual strategy- find out more information. He picked up a slick silver remote from the counter and pressed the power button for the kitchen television. Flicking swiftly through the cable TV guide, he selected a cooking show.
½ an hour and one boring cooking show later, Artemis had realized that in general, these cooking shows did not stoop so low as to show a person how to make a simple garden salad. He was stumped. He couldn't ask Butler for help, that was for sure. The big man had been developing a sense of humor recently, and he didn't think he could stand the child genii jokes the bodyguard wouldn't hesitate to share if he discovered Artemis couldn't make a salad. Artemis was cornered, and he knew it.
He picked up the kitchen phone and dialed a number.
He was met with a busy line signal. With a sigh, he replaced the phone in its cradle, and waited two minutes and twenty-seven seconds, the length of time taken for the average phonecall. Not compensating for gossiping teenage girls.
Artemis redialed. After five rings, someone picked up.
"JADE PRINCESS'S LINE!" Someone screeched with a heavy Mexican accent. The reason for the screeching was immediately obvious. There seemed to be quite a lot of yelling in the backround.
"I am quite aware of that sir. That was the person I was aiming to reach when I dialed the number. I take it you are not she." Artemis didn't have to be a genius to realize that.
"EH? SPEAK UP, SONNY!" Sonny? Artemis tried to hard to control his tone.
"I wish to speak with the Jade Princess."
"WHAT?" the person on the other end of the line hollered.
"I. Want. To. Speak. With. The. Jade. Princess." Artemis had never raised his voice in his life, and didn't intend to start now.
"OH! SHE'S IN THE RING! SHE'LL CALL YOU IN A MINUTE!" There was an audible click, in spite of the backround noise, and Artemis was left staring at the handset with an expression of loathing on his face.
He had a bad feeling about this week.