Butler- SHoving Juliet and Tackling Dwarf

“You wouldn’t shoot a fairy,” said Juliet, slipping the glasses onto
her face.
Immediately, something appeared in her vision as though it had
popped out of a toaster. The something was certainly not human. It
hung suspended from a harness and was aiming a bulbously barreled
weapon at her head. Whatever it was wore a bodysuit that seemed to
be made of a viscous tarlike substance, which clung to its wobbling
torso and coated every hair of its shaggy beard.
“Shoot the fairy!” she yelped, shocked. “Shoot it!”
...

He was trained to recognize stress
registers, but even if Artemis hadn’t forced him to listen to that MP3
lecture in the car, he knew the difference between genuinely shocked
Juliet and having a laugh Juliet. So when Juliet cried Shoot the fairy,
Butler decided on a course of aggressive action in the time it would
take a hummingbird to flap its wings.
No gun, so no shooting, he thought. But there are options.
The option Butler chose was to grasp his sister’s shoulder firmly and
push her sideways so that she actually skidded along the pebbled
beach, her shoulder plowing a furrow in the stones.
Scratched shoulder. I’ll be hearing about that for weeks.
Butler swung both arms forward and used the momentum to pull
himself up and into a full-tilt launch at whatever had spooked Juliet. At
this point he could only hope that the whatever was close enough to
grapple, otherwise there was a fairy somewhere laughing into his face
mask and calmly aiming a weapon.
His luck held. Butler made contact with something squat and lumpy.
Something that struggled and bucked like a pig in a blanket, and
exuded a particular odor that a person might experience if that person
were unfortunate enough to somehow end up facedown in a medieval
swill patch.
I know that smell, Butler realized, holding on grimly. Dwarf.

- The Atlantis Complex, Chapter 6