Me," Artemis blurted. "I'm the nut." Artemis could have sworn the squid winked at him before bringing the five-ton chunk of spacecraft swinging down toward the morsel of meat in its blue shell. "I'm the nut!" Artemis shouted again, a little hysterically, it must be said.

That’s what I thought. When I looked that human in the face. I figured he was either a genius or crazy.” Artemis’s cool eyes glared at them from the screen. “So which is it?” asked Foaly. “A genius or crazy?” Root grabbed his tri-barreled blaster from the gun rack. “What’s the difference?

He knew that Dr. Argon would advise him against bottling up his emotions as it would lead to psychological scarring in the long term.

A CD. How quaint. We have these in museums.

Sig Sauer. Nine millimetres. Thirteen in the magazine. Big bullets. One of these hits you and it could blow your head off; something even the magic can't fix. Other than that you should be all right, presuming you remembered to wear the regulation above-ground micro-fibre jumpsuit recently patented by me. Then again, being a Recon jock, you probably didn't.

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?

Listen to me, goblin. You're stupid, let's accept that and move on.