Has anyone else been having the problem of thinking (and possibly talking) like Deryn? As in, like calling unlikeable people bum-rags instead of nincompoops? I swear, if I say "Barking spiders!" out loud, I will slap myself.

DISCLAIMER: If I was Scott Westerfeld, I would make Goliath come out now, so I wouldn't have to wait until September. WAAAA! :'(

"Ow."

"Oi!"

"Ack."

"AIEEE!"

"MOMMY!"

Deryn calmly sat cross-legged in a chair, reading for the hundredth time The Manual of Aeronautics and listening to the various sounds of pain Alek was making in the next room. She set her book down, smirking slightly. "Don't forget," she yelled through the wall, "it was you who suggested trying out barking acupuncture!"

"Barking princes," Deryn muttered, and threw a knife at a sketch tacked on the wall. In it, Alek stood proudly atop the Leviathan, his hair and clothes rippling slightly in the wind. The knife flew through the air and went straight into his graphite face.

Next to it was a map of the world, with multiple faded black-and-white photos pinned onto it. Over Japan, two boys stood arm in arm, laughing at the camera. That was before Alek knew her secret, before everything went pear-shaped, before he broke her heart.

On top of London was a photo of Alek coming off the Leviathan with his men before a cheering crowd. There was a sad glint in his eye, proof that nothing was quite the same anymore between the two of them.

To the west was a photo entitled "The Half-Blood Prince Returns," showing Alek upon his return to Austria-Hungary. The Emperor himself was there to greet him, although there was a malevolent glint in his eye.

The entire wall was covered with sketches, newspaper clippings, and photographs. Here and there, the Hapsburg crest appeared, the mechanical eagle in tatters.

"Barking royalty," she grumbled as she threw another knife. This one found its way to a newspaper clipping entitled "Archduke Aleksandar becomes Emperor." Beneath the headline was a picture of the man itself. The knife embedded itself in the center of the photo, the clipping already in tatters from previous knives.

Deryn selected a knife and flicked her wrist, sending it into a close-up sketch of Alek's face. There was a ragged tear down the center that split his handsome features in half.

There was a loud thump. Deryn turned around and spotted a newspaper lying on the ground. She snatched it up, her eyes widening as she read the title "Austria-Hungary and Russia join by Royal Marriage." A photo showed the happy couple at their ceremony.

Deryn blankly stared at the article, and then burst into tears. Her heart was breaking again. If only there was some way she could make Alek understand even a fraction of the pain she'd gone through these past five years...

You can take this last spoof in many ways, but I like to imagine it as a prelude to the first spoof in chapter 2. For you Percy Jackson fans, see if you can find The Last Olympian hints. Virtual hugs if you find them!

Answer: Duh, Alek. Percy would be too busy laughing over Alek's ridiculous stance. As Deryn says in Behemoth, "Even with his sword pointed straight at her, he looked barking silly."

Question: Who would win in a battle of brains, Dr. Barlow or Artemis Fowl?

And now...bonus spoof!

"Why are you taller than me?" Alek asked, slumped in depression. "It makes me feel..."

"Like I'm better than you?" Dylan smirked, looking down upon the small figure sitting on the floor. "Or possibly even superior to you?" He stuck his tongue out.

"You wish..." Alek grumbled.