Artemis Fowl

‘Don't be alarmed, Mister Xuan,' smiled Artemis. ‘The weapons will not be used on you.'
Nguyen didn't seem reassured.
‘No,' continued Artemis. ‘Butler could kill you a hundred different ways without the use of his armoury. Though I'm sure one would be quite sufficient.'

Artemis cracked his knuckles. Time to do what he did best - plot dastardly acts.

Foaly was a paranoid centaur, convinced that human intelligence agencies were monitoring his transport and surveillance network. To prevent them reading his mind, he wore a tinfoil hat at all times.

Confidence is ignorance,' advised the centaur. ‘If you're feeling cocky, it's because there's something you don't know.'

‘Arrrrgh,' said one of the dock hands. It was all he could manage.
Butler raised an eyebrow. ‘Argh? Pathetic and inarticulate. Nice combination. Your mothers must be so proud.'

If I win, I'm a prodigy. If I lose then I'm mad. That's the way history is written.


‘Well, he's only twelve years old. And that's young, even for a human.'
Root snorted, jacking a new battery into his tri-barrelled blaster.
‘Too much damned TV. Thinks he's Sherlock Holmes.'
‘That's Professor Moriarty,' corrected Foaly.
‘Holmes, Moriarty, they both look the same with the flesh scorched off their skulls.'

Artemis put on his best sinister face. Evil, he told himself, evil but highly intelligent. And determined, don't forget determined. He put a hand on the doorknob. Steady now. Deep breaths, and try not to think about the possibility that you have misjudged this situation and are about to be shot dead. One, two, three...He opened the door.
‘Good evening,' he said, every inch the gracious host, albeit a sinister, evil, intelligent and determined one.

Pathetic really: I don't like lollipops. No self-respecting criminal mastermind would be caught dead even using the word lollipops. He really would have to put together a database of witty responses for occasions such as this.

‘Take cover?'
‘Yes, Butler. Cover. I thought speaking in primal terms would be the quickest route to your cognitive functions. Obviously I was mistaken.'

No one built weapons of cruelty like the Mud Men.