Q.  If you weren’t a criminal mastermind, what would you most like to do?

A.  I think there is a lot of work to be done in the field of psychology. If I did not have my criminal plots to occupy my time, I think I would devote my energies to putting right some of the mistakes made by misters Freud and Jung.

 

Q.  What do you really think of Captain Holly Short?

A.  I have immense respect for Captain Short and I often wish she would come over to my side, as it were. But I know she never will. She has too many principles. And if she ever lost those principles, perhaps I would lose my respect for her too.

 

Q.  You have traveled a great deal. Where is your favorite place in the world, and why?

A.  My favorite place in the world is Ireland. As the fairy People say, it is the most magical place. Its landscapes are the most inspirational in the world. And the people are witty and genuine, though we do have a dark side.

 

Q.  What was your most embarrassing moment?

A.  I once scored a mere ninety-nine percent on a mathematics assignment. I was mortified. I had forgotten to round up the third decimal place. Imagine my embarrassment.

 

Q.  What is your favorite book?

A.  My favorite book this week is The Lord of the Flies by William Golding. It is a fascinating psychological study of a group of boys stranded on an island. I can’t help thinking that if I had been on that island, I would be running the place in a week.

 

Q.  What is your favorite song?

A.  I rarely listen to popular music, with the exception of David Bowie, who is quite a chameleon. One never knows quite what to expect. I think Bowie is a fascinating individual and I am thinking of approaching him with a scheme of mine for rediscovering a lost Mozart opera, which, of course, I have written. My favorite song of Mister Bowie’s is “It’s No Game, Part 2,” from the Scary Monsters CD.

 

Q.  What keeps you awake at night?

A.  My plans. They run around my head at night, keeping me awake. There is one more thing that keeps me awake. Sometimes I feel bad about the things I have done. If this feeling of guilt strikes, I do a quick online check of my bank balance, and it soon goes away.

 

Q.  What is your most treasured possession?

A.  My most treasured possession is a cache of LEP equipment that Butler confiscated from a fairy Retrieval team. There are a thousand inventions in there that have never been seen by humans. These will be my retirement fund.

 

Q.  Who is your best friend?

A.  I believe that we agreed that this question would not be asked. If my enemies discovered who my best friend is, they could get to me through him or her. Let me just say that my best friend is never far away and has been with me since the day of my birth.

 

---

From the Artemis Fowl Files

Screensavers

Wallpapers

   Welcome, Artemis Fowl fans! 'Tis a new day and I thought one night that I simply must open a page dedicated to Eoin Colfer's wonderful series, Artemis Fowl, and here it is! It is still not done and I will welcome any new ideas for it and will soon have a comment widget so that all can share thoughts.

   I will also open a place just for fan fiction that YOU write. Simply email it to me and there is a 99.9% chance that I will put it up. The only exceptions that I will not put it up is when the story is too inappropriate (which shouldn't be a problem because it has to be EXTREMELY inapropriate to reject it), does not have anything to do about Artemis Fowl, and cons Artemis Fowl.

   I know this page is pretty much filled with words but I'm trying to discuss Artemis Fowl because that's pretty much what the site is about, but that does not mean I can't try to put some color and pictures to the page!

   You can visit my home page that's filled with funnies and my crazy days, which I update daily, and Twilight fan page as well. Please support me and if you really like my page, ask to be my friend and I'll say yes. Spread the rumor to other fans and rave me while you're at it!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

***ALL MATERIAL IS WRITTEN BY EOIN COLFER. NOT BY ME. I SIMPLY GAVE YOU THE LINK*** IF YOU HAVE ANY PROBLEMS OPENING THE EXCERPTS, THE REASON MAY BE THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE MEDIA PLAYER (HIGHLY RECOMMENDED), REAL PLAYER, OR QUICKTIME PLAYER. TO DOWNLOAD THE MEDIA PLAYER, CLICK HERE. TO DOWNLOAD THE REAL PLAYER, CLICK HERE. TO DOWNLOAD THE QUICKTIME PLAYER, CLICK HERE.

Artemis Fowl: Arrogant as it may seem, I believe that I was always destined for greatness. Not in the conventional sense of the word - the Fowls have never succumbed to convention, nor will they ever. For I, Artemis Fowl II, am the greatest criminal mastermind that has ever lived. Some may ridicule this claim, particularly in light of my teenage status, but who are they to doubt someone who has discovered parallel worlds, deciphered ancient languages, adapted technology light years ahead of our own, to mention but a few of my accomplishments. In spite of my, so called, tender age, my achievements far outweigh those of any other human alive - a modern day Alexander the Great if you will.

 

Doubts assuaged, Butler returned to his copy of Guns and Ammo, leaving his employer to unravel the secrets of the universe.

Artemis: An ally. No, more than that. A friend and a comrade. She was my key to entering Haven and has proved herself to be an invaluable asset to my plans ever since. She may be small, but with that Neutrino blaster she certainly packs a punch. Whilst I myself do not subscribe to her overly rigid moral code, her loyalty and courage are unquestionable. Not that I would ever dream of telling her this.

 

The troll was directly below her, pounding against the town’s outer wall, which was coming away in chunks beneath his powerful fingers. Holly sucked in a startled gasp. This guy was a monster! Big as an elephant and ten times as mean. But this particular beast was worse than mean, he was scared.

‘Control,’ said Holly into her mike. ‘Runner located. Situation critical topside.’

Root himself was on the other side of the comlink.

‘Clarify, Captain.’

Holly pointed her video link at the troll.

‘Runner is going through the town wall. Contact imminent. How far away are Retrieval?’

‘ETA five minutes minimum. We’re still in the shuttle.’

Holly bit her lip. Root was in the shuttle?

‘That’s too long, Commander. This whole town is going to explode in ten seconds…I’m going in.’

‘Negative, Holly… Captain Short. You don’t have an invite. You know the law. Hold your position.’

‘But, Commander – ‘

Root cut her off. ‘No! No buts, Captain. Hang back. That’s an order!’

Holly’s entire body felt like a heartbeat. Petrol fumes were addling her brain. What could she do? What was the right decision to make? Lives or orders?

Then the troll broke through the wall and a child’s voice split the night.

‘Aiuto!’ it screamed.

Help. An invitation. At a stretch.

‘Sorry, Commander. The troll is light-crazy and there are children in there.’

She could imagine Root’s face, purple with rage as he spat into the mike.

‘I’ll have your stripes, Short! You’ll spend the next hundred years on drain duty!’

But it was no use. Holly had disconnected her mike and swooped in after the troll.

Artemis: A lifelong companion and my dearest friend. Even if he does take orders. Descended from a long line of bodyguards, a member of the Butler family is an invaluable asset to any Fowl criminal endeavour. Trained in Madam Ko's famous academy, the closest Butler has ever been to defeat was at the hands of a crazed troll (see the excerpt from the Fowl Archive below). A munitions expert, and master of various forms of combat, he is not the sort of person you (or any human, troll, goblin, fairy, pixie) would want to cross.

 

Butler was strapping on a medieval suit of armour. Incredible as it seemed, he apparently intended to go toe to toe with the troll. Holly tried to warn him, tried to make some sound, but the magic hadn’t yet reinflated her crushed lungs.

Butler closed his visor, hefting a vicious mace.

‘Now,’ he grunted through the grille. ‘I’ll show you what happens when someone lays a hand on my sister.’

The human twirled the mace as though it were a cheerleader’s baton, ramming it home between the troll’s shoulder blades. A blow like that, while not fatal, certainly distracted the troll from its intended victim.

Butler planted his foot just above the creature’s haunches and tugged the weapon free. It relinquished its grip with a sickly sucking sound. He skipped backwards, settling into a defensive stance. The troll rounded on him, all ten talons sliding out to their full extent. Drops of venom glistened from the tip of each tusk. Play time was over.

Artemis: An altogether distasteful creature, disgustingly unique. Perhaps the best test of Mulch's mettle was his run-in with Butler. No one has ever fled from Butler in quite such a flamboyantly flatulent fashion. It is not my custom to associate with anyone who counts a bumflap among the must- have items in their wardrobe, especially when they have the overall appearance of a deranged warthog. Appearances aside, I do admire Mulch's steadfast criminality. We are on the same wavelength morally, and with his special attributes he makes a useful ally.

 

Born to a typical dwarf cavern-dwelling family, Mulch had decided early that mining was not for him and resolved to put his talents to another use, namely digging and entering, generally entering Mud People’s property. Of course this meant forfeiting his magic. Dwellings were sacred. If you broke that rule, you had to be prepared to accept the consequences. Mulch didn’t mind. He didn’t care much for magic anyway. There had never been much use for it down the mines.

Things had gone pretty well for a few centuries, and he’d built up quite a lucrative above-ground memorabilia business. That was until he’d tried to sell the Jules Rimet Trophy to an undercover LEP operative. From then on his luck had turned, and he’d been arrested over twenty times to date. A total of 300 years in and out of prison. Mulch had a prodigious appetite for tunnelling, and that, unfortunately, is a literal translation. For those unfamiliar with the mechanics of dwarf tunnelling, I shall endeavour to explain them as tastefully as possible. Like some members of the reptile family, dwarf males can unhinge their jaws, allowing them to ingest several kilos of earth a second. This material is processed by a super-efficient metabolism, stripped of any useful minerals and…ejected at the other end, as it were. Charming.

Artemis: For her eighteenth birthday, Juliet Butler asked for, and received, a ribbed Judo crash vest, two weighted throwing knives and a World Wrestling Grudge Match video – items that did not generally feature on the average teenage girl’s wish list. Then again, Juliet Butler is not the average teenage girl. Juliet is extraordinary in many ways. For one thing, she can hit a moving target with any weapon you cared to name and, for another, she can throw most people a lot further than she trusts them. A chip off the old Butler block, you might say.

 

Juliet slid back the van door and climbed into the interior. Pex and Chips followed, ducking under the rim. Pex released the girl’s neck momentarily to take the step. That was his mistake. A properly trained private soldier would never allow an untethered prisoner to lead the way into an unsecured vehicle.

The girl stumbled accidentally, dropping to both knees on the interior’s carpet.

‘Sushi,’ said Pex. ‘It’s good with French fries.’

Then the girl’s foot snapped back, catching him in the chest. The hired muscle collapsed, gasping, on to the floor.

‘Oops,’ said the girl, straightening. ‘Accident.’

Chips thought he must be having some kind of waking dream, because there was no way a little pop princess clone could have decked ninety kilograms of muscle and attitude.

‘You&hellip just…,’ he stuttered. ‘That’s impossible. No way.’

‘Way,’ said Juliet, pirouetting like a ballerina. The jade ring in her ponytail swung round, loaded with centrifugal force. It struck Chips between the eyeballs, like a stone from a sling. He staggered backwards, landing in a heap on a leatherette sofa.

Behind her, Pex’s breath was returning. His eyeballs stopped rolling wildly and focused on his assailant.

‘Hi,’ said Juliet, bending over him.’Guess what.’

‘What?’ said Pex.

‘You’re not supposed to deep-fry sushi,’ said the girl, clapping the assassin on both temples with the palms of her hands. Unconsciousness was immediate.

Artemis: Ah yes, Ms Koboi. A pixie with the audacity to try and outwit me not once, but twice. An utterly preposterous notion. Certified Genius? Certified Megalomaniac more like. She may have wrapped those morons Merv and Scant around her poisonous little finger, but I was never unduly fazed by this particular enemy. There's only one criminal mastermind capable of world domination, and it certainly isn't her.

 

Now Opal had a goal to bolster her willpower: she would maintain this coma for as long as it took, because there was a score to be settled. Foaly, Root, Holly Short and the human, Artemis Fowl. They were the ones responsible for her defeat. Soon she would be free of this clinic, and then she would visit those who had caused her such despair, and give them a little despair of their own. Once her enemies were defeated she could proceed with the second phase of her plan: introducing the Mud Men to the People in a way that could not be covered up by a few mind wipes. The secret life of fairies was almost at an end.

Opal Koboi’s brain released a few happy endorphins. The thought of revenge always gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling.

Artemis: Chief Technical Consultant for the Lower Elements Police, Foaly is a centaur who is as stubborn as an ox. As head of the nerve centre behind the Haven Police Force’s next-next-next-generation technology, it falls to Foaly to ensure that the whereabouts of Haven remain unknown to mankind. Or remained, I should say.

 

A Moment of Foaly: