14-The Chicken and the Genius-
The genius on a piano bench
His hands upon the keys
That sang the swelling timbres of
Beethoven's symphony;
The Artemis Fowl the Second—
(That was his name, you see)
—Had two brothers, one quite like him
The other quite like not,
The first one kept a jar of mold
The latter'd let it rot;
It was this one that came to be
Essential in the plot.
The chicken danced right in the room,
The one that'd be the bother,
He'd plague the lad with mischief fun
One after another:
Beckett Fowl, you guessed it right, the
Aforementioned brother.
"I want to dance the Chicken Dance!"
Young Beckett cried out loud,
He clucked and quacked and shook his rear
Then gave a modest bow.
Artemis sighed and pinched his nose,
"I'll teach him right," he vowed.
"The music of the classic form,"
He lectured to the boy,
"Invigorates the human mind
And fills the soul with joy,
But what you call the Chicken Dance
Does nothing but annoy."
The genius brother thought a bit
Then had a plan designed
And smiled his famous vampire's smile
(Not like the sparkly kind)—
"Dear brother, I will teach to you
Best music for the mind.
"I'll let you play your silly song
If this one you can name,
I swear I'll dance along it too,
If beaten at the game."
"Deal," the younger said to him,
His goal his brother's shame.
Artemis flexed his nimble hands
And played a song he knew
His brother could not ever guess
At his age to two;
No answer came—he gave a smile...
Then Beckett answered true.
Artemis turned a little pale,
"How did you know that song?"
"Mum likes to play him," Beckett said,
"All night and all day long;
Mozart, Chopin, Bach, and more.
You thought I'd get it wrong?
"Now go and dance the Chicken Dance!"
Artemis shrank in dread
And formed another plan right then,
"A moment! Wait!" he said,
"I cheated wrongly on that one,
Try guess this one instead."
And so he played another song
And more and more and more,
His back bent over as he played
As frantic as before,
While Beckett answered each one right
And tallied up the score.
"Twenty-seven points," he declared,
"—to Beckett, Artemis none!"
The genius hung his head down low
For having been outdone
By the chicken's music talent—
"I forfeit, you have won."
"Here's how to dance the Chicken Dance!"
Young Beckett then replied,
"Just flap your elbows up and down
Then shake from side to side.
Hey! Come back or I'll tell on you,
There's nowhere you can hide."
Artemis sulked and crept out from
Behind the nearest shelf,
"And yet I have another plan,"
He said this to himself,
"I'll learn to dance this step-by-step
To teach a certain elf."
They raised their arms a foot or two
And pressed them in a cluck,
Then moved their elbows up and down
And mimed a flapping duck.
Quit dancing now? He knew he'd have
To bribe ten million bucks.
They shook their hips from side to side,
The score from one to ten—
Beckett danced the Chicken Dance like
A true comedian,
While Artemis gave a votive prayer
To never dance again.
"To hell with this! I give up!
I'd rather be caught dead."
Artemis made to leave the room
And held his aching head.
The younger proved his genius then:
"You chicken?" Beckett said.
The End
A/N: Inspired by Lewis Carroll's The Walrus and the Carpenter.