Artemis: I am not buoyed by that. Foaly: You are not supposed to be buoyed by that. You are supposed to be equalized. Mulch: I'm pretty sure that both of you just made really horrible jokes. But I'm not sure because I think you broke my funny bone.

Mulch's tongue lolled out, resting on the centaur's neck. "Mmm," he mumbled around his tongue. "Horse. Tasty" "Let's go," said Foaly nervously. "Let's go right now.

Miss me? Bet you did ... so would I.

How did that go?’ he asked. ‘Your first lengthy conversation with a girl your own age?’ ‘Fabulous,’ said Artemis, voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘We’re planning a June wedding.

And one more thing. About my name — Artemis — you were right. In London, it is generally a female name, after the Greek goddess of archery. But every now and then a male comes along with such a talent for hunting that he earns the right to use the name. I am that male. Artemis the hunter. I hunted you.

We get an apartment together, and after a whirlwind courtship you marry my sister and honeymoon in Vegas.

Good. Illegal is always faster.