“It’s not polite, you know. Ignoring your host.”
Holly snarled. “Enough is enough.”
She pulled back her fist, fingers curled in a tight bunch. Artemis
didn’t flinch. Why would he? Butler always intervened before punches
landed. But then something caught his eye, a large figure running down
the stairway on the first-floor monitor. It was Butler.
“That’s right, rich boy,” said Holly nastily. “You’re on your own this
time.”
And before Artemis’s eyes had time to widen, Holly put an extra few
pounds of spring in her elbow and whacked her abductor right on the nose.
“Oof,” he said, collapsing on to his rear end.
“Oh, yes! That felt good.”

- Artemis Fowl, Chapter 8