My name is Poppy Luxe. As part of the new VFD, it is my duty to recover files that were once lost. This is not, however, the Snicket file. These are merely the footnotes; moments in the lives of the Snickets which I hope may shed light on other circumstances and individuals surrounding the three siblings.

M - please file copies under Baudelaire, Olaf, VFD - school of, Beatrice, and any other place you believe a copy should be. I apologize that they are not in chronological order. There was a stiff wind in the park the day I intended to type these and it blew my research in all directions. Also, please excuse the water and puncture marks on page 4. I had to retrieve it from a rather aggressive duck who, for whatever reason, was very intent on keep it for itself.

With All Due Respect,
Poppy

Dear Lemony,

Thank you for your kind invitation. I was not so much embarrassed as I was shocked. I'd never heard Beethoven played on an accordion before. My friends embarrassed me far more. I should apologize for their rudeness, but I'd rather do so in person. I've never had a root beer float before, so I suppose I will meet you at the suggested location at recess.

~ Beatrice Baudelaire

Student of Zoology

VERY FIRST DATE

"Jacques! Kit! Please," I begged. "Do. Not. Come! It's embarrassing. It's humiliating. It's awkward. It's mortifying. It's… it's discommodious! Discommodious means embarrassing, humiliating, awkward and mortifying, by the way."

My older sister rolled her eyes. "I know what it means. I also know that you're very mistaken if you think we're going to miss our little brother's first date."

"It's not a date! How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"You're going out to a café to meet a girl," Jacques said. He was my older brother and Kit's twin. I've been unfairly outnumbered since I was born. "What would you call it, then?"

"A get-together," I replied firmly. "A meeting. Socializing. I've only really talked to her once."

"Was that when you popped out from behind the bookshelves with your accordion?" Kit grinned. It was a smug grin that knew too much. "I'm still surprised you weren't kicked out of the library."

"I'd already asked Ms. Cleary if I could do it. And I did not 'pop out'. You make it sound like I ambushed her."

"Well, you were lying in wait to surprise someone," she shrugged. "Just think of us as your VFD chaperones! It'll give you head start on next year when you've got a real one. It's not like we're going to sit there and interrogate her. We'll be at our own table on the other side of the room."

I was about to concede, when a horrible vision came to mind. "Oh my gosh. Don't take the menu with the eye holes! I beg you!"

"Ok, we'll just stare at you," Jacques said.

"NO! Look, if you absolutely have to, then don't you dare bring the opera glasses!"

Kit snorted. "Don't flatter yourself, L. You aren't that interesting. In all honesty, we're only going to make sure you two get there and back safely. We've all heard about that man who escaped the Askant Asylum. As I said, you'll be going off with your first real chaperone soon. We'd rather not be separated until then."

"I promised mom I'd look after both of you," Jacques added. "You know how she'd get if something happened. I'd be the one facing a psycho! She hit me with one of those awful bunny slippers. Heaven knows what she'd do with her curlers."

I sighed. "Can you at least make it look like you aren't following us? Maybe come in, say, five minutes after me?"

"You got it little bro," Jacques replied. "We'll be invisible."

"By wearing camouflage?" Kit grinned.

"You read my mind!"

"I'm thinking that, for good measure, we should wear those new foliage blinds."

"In which case, we'll obviously need the duck hats. No one ever suspects ducks."

"Absolutely! Of course, we'll need the duck calls then…"

My loving siblings continued plotting my social demise. I began getting ready. My hands started to shake so badly I could barely do my tie. I stabbed my thumb trying to put the VFD pin in it. I brushed my suit down before we left. I paused at the door, glancing at my accordion.

"Do you think I should –"

"Leave it," Kit said firmly.

"Definitely leave it," Jacques confirmed. "The trick to a good first date is not letting them know how weird you are. Save it for a few months once you've got her trapped."

"Do I look ok?"

"You look like a brother, but I suppose you're fine. Future tip though Lem, you're supposed to wear your underwear inside your pants," Jacques commented.

"WHAT?"

I can't believe I even looked. It was one of his jokes, as usual.

"You look nice," Kit reassured me. "If I were your age and I didn't know you, I'd think you were really cute."

We set off from our dorm to the East Gate. I heard Kit telling Jacques not to stress me out anymore. Jacques thought it was 'hilarious and kind of adorable'. She pointed out that he hadn't thought so when he was trying to impress Elizabeth Quagmire.

"You liked Lizzie Quagmire?" I gasped.

"What's wrong with that?" Jacques blushed. "She's really great… and really pretty."

Once we'd gotten outside and the gate was in sight, I told them very firmly to either hang back or go ahead of us. I was early, so Beatrice hadn't turned up yet. They decided to set off ahead of us. It would've reassured me if I knew for sure they weren't lurking in the trees ahead.

I stood at the gate, patiently waiting. My stomach was in knots. I made a mental check list. I'd already eaten a truck load of breath mints. My hair should be fine and I was wearing a hat in any case. Kit had told me my clothes were fine. My tie was straight. My fingernails were clean. Was I wearing socks? What if she saw the tattoo of an eye on my ankle and thought I was some sort of juvenile delinquent? I panicked for a few seconds until I realized that I was wearing socks, and even if I hadn't been, Beatrice had the same tattoo. I tried to remember witty conversation starters I'd read. What would you be doing outside of Volunteering? What is your favorite book? What's the best VFD acronym you've heard or encountered? What's your favorite holiday? Do you know any good jokes? I kept reminding myself to be mondaine – a word which here means 'mature and sophisticated', as that's how Beatrice was. I was peering down the path, trying to see if Jacques and Kit were still there when I heard footsteps approaching.

Beatrice looked beautiful. Her dress was blue with a multi-colored flower print. The neckline was square and the sleeves short. She had on little white socks to cover her ankle and smart brown shoes. A white band around the middle accentuated her slim waist. Her chocolate brown hair was neatly curled and she'd donned a matching blue ribbon in it.

"Hello," I smiled, hoping my grin wasn't too cheesy and praying I wouldn't throw up. "I'm Beatrice."

No! Why had I said that? I put my hand over my face.

You're an idiot, Snicket, I could practically hear her saying. My friends were right. But then, mercifully, I heard her real voice say something entirely different.

"Are you? Oh, in that case, I'm Lemony."

We both laughed.

"I'm sorry," I blushed. "It's just – I'm – "

"Nervous?" She finished. "It's ok. I am too. No one has ever really taken an interest in me before. Don't worry. My first day here, I knew I wanted to work in their zoology department. I showed up in class and do you know what I said? 'Hi, I'm an animal and I love working with Beatrice'. Everyone was laughing! I almost ran out of the room right then."

"That's horrible," I laughed. "I'm sorry! I've never been this weird before. I mean, I'm weird, but I can usually speak."

I sighed. What had Jacques just told me? This wasn't going well at all.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled for the third time. "If you want to leave…"

"Not at all! I don't think you're weird. A little silly, but I like that. It makes a nice change. My friends are so sure of themselves all the time. One of them, Isabelle Spats, can be real catty. She's the one who made that rude accordion joke. I'm sorry about that, by the way. I don't agree at all. Still, I like her – at least, I used to. I don't know anymore." She sighed and suddenly looked very sad. Beatrice took my arm then and we began walking down the path to the café. "You see, something's changed. I don't know if it's them or me or perhaps a little of both. In any case, they've all gotten rather arrogant. I didn't notice at first. I knew they were snarky. They liked to make little comments about people. Sometimes it was funny. Recently, they've gotten mean about it. I don't understand it all. Their words are harsh and uncalled for. It's like they've got it in their heads that they're better than others. I don't like that at all. I'm sorry, Lem. May I call you Lem?"

"No, please don't be," I reassured, patting her hand. "And yes, of course you can. I've never had a nickname before. Except for my sister, who calls me L and she knows that I hate that."

"Thank you," she smiled, looking grateful. "I've been harboring all of this and I can't talk to a single one of them about it. They'd only talk behind my back. I've been hoping something would change. Perhaps someone new would show up and I could befriend them. I've been feeling so stuck. I fear having no friends at all. Then you… and your kind note…well, I never thought opportunity would come around a bookshelf with an accordion, but I suppose life is like that." She grinned up at me, though I was only just taller than her. "What are your friends like?"

"I suppose they're a bit like me," I said. I'd never really thought about it before, but we all seemed very similar, despite varied interests. "Hector is shy and a bit of a nervous Nellie, but he's very kind. Smart, too, he's always inventing something or other. Gustav is a little younger than we are. He's a film buff and he's working with coding. He's very creative, so he's fun to talk to. Monty is great. He's a herpetologist –"

"Montgomery Montgomery?" Beatrice asked suddenly. "I know him! He's in one of my classes. I'd no idea he was a friend of yours. We've worked on a few class projects together. He's lovely – very warm and friendly."

"He is," I agreed. "Then there's Widdershins. He can be a little brash and forward at times, but he has a good heart. Nothing ever seems to scare him and he's terribly adventurous – which is why he's such great friends with Josephine, who's also in our group. They both love to be on the water. Honestly, I can see them being the first noble pirates."

Beatrice giggled. "They sound so nice. Where do you usually hang out?"

"The library. Although on really nice days, we go to the gardens."

We had finally emerged from the tree lined lane and were standing at a city street. A cross walk was marked out a few feet away. We paused tentatively, a word which here means 'checking for cars, as neither of us wished to be run over', then crossed. The café was almost directly in front of us. I held the door open for her and she stepped inside. To my horror, I saw my siblings already seated at a table, peering at us over menus embossed with gold writing. It was hard to make out the words and might have looked like the sort of script on any fancy menu, but I knew it read 'Vigilant Firebrand Disguise'. I drew a line over my throat and glared at them, a motion which here means 'cut it out'. Kit lowered her head. Her eyes emerged between the B and D in 'firebrand'. I groaned.

"Are you alright?" Beatrice asked.

"Oh, yes – I accidentally kicked that coat tree," I fibbed.

We went to the counter and I ordered two root beer floats. Beatrice chose a table, which was mercifully far away from the menu's prying eyes. I noticed that she looked a little ill at ease when I sat down. I asked her the same thing she'd just asked me.

"Hm? Oh! Oh, yeah, I'm fine. It's just that poster in the window. That mad man still on the loose. It's a bit creepy, isn't it?" Then she lowered her voice. "Especially as he was one of us."

I nodded. "I wonder what set him off."

"The Schism, probably," she shrugged. "My mom said it did a lot of people in."

"Your parents are still living then?"

"Thankfully, yes. My mother is a teacher and my father is an accountant by day and a writer by night. What about your parents?"

"They're still living," I smiled. "They're both farmers with the Valorous Farms Dairy."

"That sounds nice, to live out of the city in fresh air and open space."

"It does get dull, but on the whole it's alright. I would use the term fresh loosely though. With all those cows around, it's not always as fresh as it could be."

Beatrice laughed. Our floats arrived, and she looked at it curiously.

"How do I eat this? There's a spoon and a straw."

"It's up to you, really, but I manage to get both on my spoon. Some people let the ice cream melt into the soda. Some people eat one or the other first."

She tried several things and ended up with something that was more milkshake than float. She told me she loved it. I wasn't sure if she was being sincere at first, but when she got another one, I knew it was true.

"I can't believe I never knew these existed. Clearly, I've been very deprived! Have you had one that's better?"

"Only once. It's the quality of the root beer and the ice cream that really makes it. We went to a diner on vacation a few summers ago and they made their own root beer. I'm not a villainous person at all and yet I'm planning to steal their recipe. It was the best thing I've ever tasted!"

"I might participate in that," she grinned. "I can see the papers now: two Very Fat Delinquents robbed a diner yesterday. They'd been filling themselves with frozen desserts for years and the trouble came when they decided to use an entry not meant for human access. A security camera caught these images of the two struggling in and out of the window."

"One witness says he came across the upper half of the rotund male juvenile," I added, "the recipe for root beer still clutched in one chubby fist. 'I distinctly heard him shout for the girl to take the card and save herself,' says Bob. 'When I went farther down the lane, I could see her trying to stuff the rest of him through by pushing a plunger on his backside. I couldn't believe it. It was like that scene in Winnie The Pooh, you know, when he's caught in Rabbit's hole'. It appears he managed to escape though there was severe damage to the window. The couple reports that the plunger was never recovered, and it's thought that he may still be wearing it."

Both Beatrice and I were in stitches, a phrase which here means, "laughing so hard that she began to snort and I had tears in my eyes". She finally sighed and dabbed her eyes with a napkin.

"Oh Lem, I'm so glad I joined you today. I haven't laughed this much in a long time!"

I was glad to hear that. It was a good opener for me to ask if she'd heard other good jokes. Indeed, she had. She repeated one that I'd already heard but still found funny, one about an old man and some cookies that I'd never heard, and one about salt and pepper shakers that I hadn't expected such a polite girl to know. I told her some myself and she nearly spit out her root beer at the punchline to the one about a rabbi.

I moved on to my other conversation starters. To my great surprise, she'd thought of some herself. She told me that if she were not a volunteer, she'd be quite bored, but she'd probably be invested in a hobby like metal detecting as she was interested in treasure hunting. I honestly couldn't think what I'd be doing either but it would probably involve our farm. Her current favorite book was Les Miserables, although she was certain it would change again that year. My favorite had always been The Bears' Famous Invasion Of Sicily. We had the same favorite holiday: Halloween. It's impossible not to love a day where one can be disguised to get free candy. She had to think about her favorite VFD acronym, and when she told me, I could hardly believe it.

Beatrice told me a story of how her father had once devoured an entire bean salad that her mother had intended to be for a potluck which he'd forgotten about. No one would admit to eating it, so she suspected all of them had had a hand in it. He was outed later by way of exploding methane, a phrase which here means 'a series of unfortunate toots'. I was already laughing, and Beatrice hadn't even gotten to the good part. Her mother finally tracked down the culprit and had it out with him. He asked who she thought she was – a Vapor of Flatulence Detector? Beatrice and her siblings had laughed so hard they cried. Her mother remained unsympathetic and hauled him off to the party, gas or no gas, only to come home regretting it. Every single person there was soon aware of his problem, as the hosts had unpadded wooden chairs and insisted upon a moment of silence before the meal was served. It wasn't silent for long. The two of us were howling with laughter by the time she finished her story. I suddenly realized I wasn't nervous around her anymore.

"You know, somehow I thought you'd be really different," I said.

"Oh? How so?"

"When I see you around school, you seem so reserved. Very prim and proper. I look at you and see sophistication and elegance. I was so worried that I'd look like a total goon, I was looking up etiquette yesterday. Then you tell me one of the best gas stories I've ever heard!"

Beatrice giggled. "Actually, I was worried about impressing you. You're very different from what I thought, too. You've always got the answers in class and you're always doing something interesting. I expected you to be super intellectual and a little stuffy. I didn't think I'd be laughing all day!" Then she raised an eyebrow. "What did you mean by 'one of' the best gas stories. Surely you can't beat that!"

"No? When I was younger, we were trying to teach my brother to lighten up. He used to be so serious. You'd never know it now, of course! Anyway, I can't remember the reason, but our parents took us to this really nice restaurant. I knew that no seven year old boy could resist a good prank. Not even Jacques. I had this tiny self-inflating whoopee cushion. I kept squeezing it behind my sister in the car. She was getting more and more agitated, and Jacques was starting to lose his cool. I saw his reflection in the mirror and he had stuffed a hankie in his mouth to keep from laughing. I finally handed it off to him because she suspected me and I knew she'd frisk me. He thought devices like that were immature until he accidentally squashed it, which made this truly terrible sound. Jacques finally broke. Kit was furious by the time we got to the restaurant – especially when our mother suggested she use the facilities. She desperately tried to claim innocence. She threatened that I'd better stop and I showed her I didn't have anything. We waited for her to come back before going to our table. Kit was sitting between us, trying to keep and eye on the two of us at once. The waiter came with glasses and started filling them with water. We decided enough was enough. Jacques was going to pass it off to me where I'd keep it in my pocket. He lost his grip and we both tried to catch it. It was right behind Kit's back. We accidentally squeezed it and it made another loud rip. Kit nearly shouted, 'Stop it, Jacques!' He didn't miss a beat. He looked under the table and said, 'Sure sis, where did it go?' I'd never seen my father laugh that hard, my mother was hiding her snickers behind a napkin, and the waiter knocked my glass over then had to sit down because he was laughing too hard to breath! I still think Kit is the only one who doesn't appreciate that story."

Beatrice was finding breathing difficult, herself. When she was finally composed, she said, "I didn't know you had siblings. Jacques and Kit, you said?"

I nodded. "Jacques is tall with dark hair. I guess he's good looking because girls are always pestering him. He's sort of shy that way. Kit is short with strawberry blonde hair. I think she's pretty, as far as sisters go."

"What do they do?"

"Harass me, mostly," I grinned. "Jacques is a journalist and surveillor at the moment, though he's up for just about anything they ask him to do. Kit is a brilliant lockpick and can get into almost anything or any place. Those are their current jobs. You know how it changes."

"Yeah, my brother's had four different jobs. Admittedly, he was forced out of one because he blew something up in chemistry and his hair was pink for a week. They didn't find that helpful," she snickered. "He's a botanist now. I also have a much older sister who's a full volunteer. She's a librarian." Then she asked the question I'd been dreading. "What are your siblings doing today? Did they know you were planning to meet someone?"

"They did," I said. "Actually Beatrice, I wasn't completely honest with you at first. When we walked in, I said I hit that coat tree? I was just trying to get rid of the twins. If you hadn't noticed that menu watching us, they're over there."

"I thought that looked familiar," Beatrice said. "I suppose I wasn't so honest either. I wasn't really worried about that crazy guy. See that plant in the corner? No, the one with the rim decoration that looks like eyes. Two of those eyes are real. That's my brother. Unfortunately, the plant is real. He's been cultivating that hat for over a year."

The two of us started giggling again.

"I guess it's nice that they care so much. Still…" I looked at my watch. "Recess is almost over. Shall we ditch the minding menu and the peeping plant?"

"Gladly!"

I'd already paid for the drinks, so I left a tip on the table and we headed out of the café. She took my arm again as we walked across the street. Beatrice reached into a pocket in her dress and pulled out a compact mirror, looking stealthily over her shoulder.

"Don't look now, but we're being followed. I think your sister has opera glasses. Is that a duck on her head?"

"What?" I cried. I looked in the mirror, horrified. "I thought they were joking!"

"Compared to Elwyn, they look normal. He didn't even bother to take that stupid plant off! Of all the nerve. Just pretend you don't see them – that would give them way too much satisfaction."

I agreed. We checked on them every so often with the little compact. If our siblings hadn't been acting so foolish, we might have avoided the shadow lurking in the trees up ahead. We were so engrossed in the mirror we were paying no attention to our surroundings, which is practically the first rule of being a volunteer. The next thing I knew, a large form was blocking our way. Beatrice gasped and then without warning, she hit the ground, completely out cold. I looked up to see a man who was two full feet taller than I was. He was bulky and had the cruelest eyes I'd ever seen. They were dull and lifeless, though manic. It reminded me of a photo I'd once seen of a person suffering shell shock. I'd normally have been absolutely timorous, a word which here means 'frozen in terror', yet despite my shock, I was fast. He'd had the gall to knock-out the first real date I'd ever had. In the grip of a new, powerful emotion, I cried out and heaved my bookbag at his head.

I wasn't overly strong, but it did the trick. I always kept a hollowed out book in my bag, although it wasn't hollow. It currently had a brick inside of it. He stumbled. I stuck my leg out to make sure he'd fall. I hit him over the head again for good measure, then sat on him and ripped my belt off. We were always taught that a belt would work perfectly in the absence of handcuffs. I tied him up as tight as I could. My panicked sister was by my side in the next second.

"Lemony! Are you ok? I can't believe it. I can't believe he was actually here! Jacques and I just said that so we could follow you!"

"I'm fine Kit," I replied, breathing heavily. I hugged her and noticed that my hands were shaking from the adrenaline.

"That was brilliant," she grinned.

"Beatrice!" Elwyn screamed, shaking her shoulders. "What has he done to you? Wake up! Beatrice, answer me!"

"It's alright," Kit soothed, putting a hand on his shoulder. She ran a finger under Beatrice's nose. "See? If he's VFD, it's probably the TAND drug – you know, ThornApple, Nightshade and Diphenhydramine. She'll be ok, she's only sleeping. Here."

Kit took a water bottle out of her bag and offered it to Elwyn, who had begun to cry. I felt bad for him. That must have been a horrible thing to see. I knew how I'd feel if anything ever happened to my sister. Realizing that he wouldn't be able to help, Kit gently poured the water over Beatrice to get the powder off her face. She took a tissue from her pocket, ripped it in two, got it damp and stuck it up each of my new friend's nostrils to clean them out. I looked up when I heard someone running toward us and realized for the first time that Jacques hadn't been present.

"The diner says they've called the police," he said, panting. "They'll be here in a minute. Is she ok?"

"She'll probably have a headache later, but she's fine for now. She could be asleep for awhile though. Can you carry her?"

"It's ok Jacques," Elwyn sniffed, wiping his eyes. "You don't have to. I can carry her… I've had to before."

He was just working out how best to lift her when the flashing lights and sirens showed up. It was instant chaos. We were interrogated on all sides. Especially me, as I was the one who had tied him up. Elwyn didn't have to worry about Beatrice. They brought a medic who was bigger than any one of us. He carried Beatrice back to the school. Elwyn wanted to follow them but was made to stay. We were bombarded by teachers shortly after that. It was at least an hour before we were allowed to go back inside.

I sighed. I just wanted to go to bed and it was still early in the afternoon. I wasn't sure if the date had been a success or a failure. Still, I felt I'd made a good first impression. I was nearly to the stairs when Elwyn caught my arm.

"Hey Snicket," he said.

I was nervous. He was even older than Jacques and bigger. His grip was solid. I had to admit, I was scared of him, even though he was wearing a stupid hat. I swallowed.

"Yeah?"

"You were pretty great back there. I was watching you this afternoon – a guy can't be too careful," he said.

"I know," I replied, pointing to his plant.

"Oh." He took it off and chuckled. "I wasn't so sure about you, and if I'm honest, I don't know that I'll ever think someone is good enough for my sister. She really enjoyed herself though. I haven't seen her laugh like that in a while. Plus, you kind of saved her life. So… thanks."

"I was glad to."

He stuck his hand out and I shook it. He turned and wandered off, probably to the infirmary. I trudged up the stairs to where my siblings were waiting.

"That seemed to go really well," Kit replied, a huge Cheshire cat-like grin on her face. "Will you be seeing her again?"

"I hope so," I said.

"What was so funny?" She asked. "You were laughing practically the whole time."

"Just some jokes, mostly."

"And?"

"Come on, I've been interrogated all day! We were telling each other funny stories."

"Kit needs details," Jacques said. "Girls live and breath this stuff. If she were a cat, she'd be dead with curiosity now."

I sighed deeply as we made our way to the dorm. "We just talked about our friends, then family and what we're doing at school."

"That doesn't sound so amusing," Kit pouted.

"On the contrary, you two are hilarious!"

"Us?" Now Jacques was curious too.

"Absolutely! A wealth of stories! Brilliant inspiration!"

"Lemony! Cut it out," Kit cried. "You're being facetious deliberately!"

"Facetious means you're driving her crazy with your flippancy," Jacques winked.

"Stop it, Jacques!"

"Yeah, that was one of the stories," I grinned.

"Huh?"

"You know – 'stop it Jacques', 'sure, where'd it go,'?"

Kit stopped dead in her tracks. "What?"

"That was the one that made her snort," I continued. "She'll probably want to meet you some time. She thought you sounded like a very funny person, despite any gastric issues."

"What? You didn't! Tell me you didn't!"

I ran the rest of the way to the dorm. Jacques and I scooted inside and locked the door, gasping with laughter.

"Open this door!" Kit yelled, pounding on it. "Lemony! You open this door right now or else! Do you hear me? Just wait. Just you wait! I can pick this lock in ten seconds flat. I'm going to twist you into a pretzel!"

"That doesn't sound very kosher," I called.

"I hope you saw the rabbi last week, because when I get in there-"

"A phrase which here means 'with all due respect, Lemony Snicket, you better hide'," Jacques said.

I reflected that having a second date with Beatrice in the infirmary might be an improvement over this one. I hid anyway. For all my heroics, I spent the rest of the afternoon suspended in my garment bag in a closet while Kit stood outside the door and completely violated my accordion by trying to play it. Some people have no sense of humor.