Yeah, about updating…..

Im going to have to put ALL my stuff on Hiatus for a little bit. Im not giving up, not by a long shot, in fact I have a lot of ideas. School comes before FanFiction, and I have 2 essays due in English, DCA's coming soon in Math, two essays due in Chem., THREE essays and a test in American History. Until it all blows over, im swamped. I do take suggestions but im in a bit of a rush to even post this, so I cant respond to reviews like normal, but a special thanks to Tech17, who reminded me to update by flooding my inbox with reviews for this. And to iesonth, for FINALLY updating the Artist and the Hunter. And a special aplogy to Fig Newton, who I gave food poisoning. Again.

This is a rule that was suggested, and that I really wanted to write. Thanks ,YouknowMe!

Rule Twenty:

Never, Ever Mention your experiments, especially to guests

Myles looked quizzically at Beckett.

"Why not?"

Beckett let out a long-suppressed sigh.

"'cause, simpleton, I don't want to start the next plague. I want to remembered for being the first person to animate beanie-babies, or riding the party-ponies*, or something awesome like recruiting the next Chuck Norris. Or at the very least, be the first Irishman to be allergic to alcohol. Because if I get drunk, I probably do something that gets me in the newspaper, that won't be cool, like being recruited to be a mini-bond. Something like that."

Myles's brain about shut down right there and then. Myles Fowl: Death by Beckett Overload. This thought was not even thought in a sarcastic sense. There were worse, more embarrassing ways to die. The old lady who lived in a shoe could choke on air freshener.

"One. It wont start the plague. I'm not Big Brother. Beanie babies, if they came to life, would kill us ALL. By self-destructing in our beds. The Party Ponies wont be coming, believe me. There is No "second Chuck Norris. And don't play the "butler" card. Lastly, what is the point of being a secret agent if everyone who reads a paper knows about you?"

Beckett thought about that. "Whatever."

Myles smiled, a little bit. "Please?"

Myles was baking cupcakes for his class. Mother was out for a few days with Juliet, Butler was off somewhere with Artemis, last heard muttering about "that Tinkerbelle trouble should be able to take of himself". Mr Fowl was even worse than Artemis about cooking. So he asked the only other person in the house for help: Beckett.

"Fine."

A smile crept over Myles's face. "Excellent." He hadn't got the vampire smile down yet, so his face looked like what Frankenstein's face when a dead guy jumped up and yelled out his first words to the world. Or when bad guy looks like right before he realizes random attackers are hanging from hoverboards all around him, with rifles pointed at his head. (said bad guy being blind as a bat. The "rifles" were silly string cans. The hover boards were in fact, a bent piece of the gutter that had bent outwards, so everyone could hang from it. And said man wasn't really a super bad guy: he just let his annoying, fluffy dog poo in everyone's yard. With a smile on his face.)

Ten minutes later….

Myles frowned. "The batters too watered down."

Beckett shrugged. "The glues in the craft bin. Might thicken it out."

It was too thin, because they had played by the rules on the back of the box, then "went all Bobby Flay" on the cupcakes and added pop, hot cocoa, and orange juice. Myles only comment to Becketts "Things to add" list?

"You "Flayed" it all right. Whipped, creamed, it, and pulverized it into the ground."

Beckett looked up the words in the dictionary, then he forgot he was going to say. Something along the lines of "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!" Brilliant.

Myles looked at him hard. "No."

Beckett shrugged, then when Myles back was turned, tossed in a cucumber, jolly ranchers, and coffee beans. And a lollipop stick. And a few things with no cover.

You never knew.

Finally the mixture was done, although Myles kept giving it suspicious looks. Well, he did that, eve since; Butler had told him about a sandwich Artemis once made. Beckett seemed to have inherited his cooking skills. Myles wouldn't have needed his help, except to reach stuff. Beckett handled that problem using a pogo stick.

To his amazement, they came out looking normal.

They weren't normal, something he found out AFTER the federal Food and Health service showed up at the Manor. There had been severe cases of food poisoning at the school.

One last cupcake had been taken into evidence. They was a lot of papers that had been returned from the forensic lab on it. One worker was still in the hospital, he had delivered the package, and while opening his mail truck, they all fell on him. All those sheets of paper. The workers only comment was that there were, again worse ways to go. You could be Percy Jackson, and die drowning. Or after dying, you could be Mr. T and be pitied.

The inspector was still talking to Mr. and Mrs. Fowl.

"Do you have any other someone who delve into experiments?'

Suddenly the window was blown off its hinges, and Artemis Fowl Jr. was being pushed into it, and was being pushed though the house, as if gripped by an invisible force. The Inspector waited till he was out of view. He blinked.

"Ill take that as a yes."

Beckett felt he should say something smart to salvage the situation and look less of a madman.

Something philosophical.

"Umm..is the glass half empty or half full?"

Myles decided that he didn't care one way or the other. Who cared? If you studying the glass that carefully, you were a really nice person. He would be interrogating everyone, deciding who drank half of his glass.

Suddenly the remaining glass from the window broke, and Foaly broke in, yelling.
"USE THE REVERSE FOWL!" he chase the fact of destruction that had followed the Fowl heir. Followed by half the LEP of course. (There had been an incident at Tara.)

There was silence.

"Party Pony?"*

Myles jumped to his feet. "Centaur…"

Beckett reached under the couch and brought out something resembling a gun.

"What is that?"

"It resembles what I threw in the cupcakes. Figured it might do something good, if he can give every suspicious visitor food poisoning."

Myles elbowed him. "Rule 20" he hissed.

Artemis was being held by two uniformed fairies to his staring family. He had been gone most of the morning. He managed to look up.

"You are not going to be cooking for MY wedding."

That said, he passed out.

Then, like an afterthought, he gained councioness for a brief moment.

"it was and experiment."

The two fairies holding him, dropped his as he passed out again.

"Rule twenty" the bellowed to his deaf ears.

*Party Ponies, from the PJO series. Centaurs who save the day with afros, splat guns, and general drunkenness. In a word, not Foaly.

P.S: the mind wip teams that came in 30 seconds also took the rule with them. Shame.

Yeah, like I said, right now im rushed, Back to science, sorry for the general unfunnieness of this one. I saw young franenstien. Love the part.."He was my BOYFRIEND!" then I saw crocodile Dundee 2, then went to a church lock-in. I am now operagting on no sleep.