Sometimes Plans Don't Translate Smoothly

I Waved My Hand In Front Of My Face, Obi-wan Style. "i Am Not Here." Niall's Mucas Glands Kicked Into Overdrive. "eoin's Dead! And His Ghost Is Standing Right There On The Grass!" Donal Let Out A Long Suffering Sigh. "eoin Is Being A Writer." Niall Calmed Down, Becuase Everyone Knows Writers Are Weird And Are Always Doing Stupid Thingss.

Artemis: "right, Brothers. Onward. Imagine Yourself Seated At A Cafe In Montmartre." Myles: "in Paris." Artemis: "yes, Paris. And Try As You Will, You Cannot Attract The Waiter's Attention. What Do You Do?" Beckett: "umm...tell Butler To Jump-jump-jump On His Head?" Myles: "i Agree With Simple-toon." Artemis: "no! You Simply Raise One Finger And Say Clearly 'ici, Garcon.'" Beckett: "itchy What?

But Even Though There Were Plenty Of Teeth In The Grin, There Was No Heart.

I Am Unarmed. But Butler Here, My ...ah...butler, Has A Sig Saucer In His Shoulder Holster, Two Shrike-throwing Knives In His Boots, Aderringer Two-shot Up His Sleeve, Garrotte Wire In His Watch, And Three Stun Greanades Concealed In Variouse Pockets. Anything Else, Butler?

Of Course I Saved You," She Said. "i Couldn't Do Without You." And Because She Was Happy And Flushed With Magic Holly Leaned Down And Kissed Artemis, Magic Sparking Around The Contact Like Tiny Fireworks.