'Well, it all began on a hot summer's morning,' Milt began. Geraldine Julienne looked enraptured by his story, even though his story only took him back a few hours, where it was clearly a cold morning as it came to the end of autumn. She quickly scrolled down his every word in a dog-eared notebook, and looked up at him to continue when she had done. The two of them were in her office at the Daily Punctilio, where she was exclusively getting an interview with him about his recollections of the meeting with the Baudelaires he had experienced that morning. She would be the first journalist to get his story on it: she would be better then anyone else in the newspaper industry. She gave a smile as that thought rushed through her head again.
'I was working-as usual-in my very decent and worthy store,' he explained,' where we're having a sale on all umbrellas. Be sure to write that down.' Geraldine nodded, and did what he said, scrolling it quickly with her rapid and messy handwriting.
'And then?' she asked. Milt held up a finger.
'I'm getting there,' he replied, and coughed briefly. 'And then, I noticed something odd.' Geraldine smiled.
'The Baudelaires?' she asked. Milt shook his head.
'Not yet,' he replied. 'I noticed that a coat hanger was rather crooked. Of course, the coats and the coat hangers at the Last Chance General Store are very well made and we have great deals on them all…be sure to write that down too…' Geraldine had a problem to keep up with what he was saying, so quickly scrolled down notes: DEALS ON COWTS AND COWT HANGERS ONE CROOKED.
'And then what happened?' she asked, waiting for the big interesting moment of the Baudelaire murderer's entrance. Milt sighed.
'I straightened it,' he replied. Geraldine sighed.
'Let's cut to the chase, Milty,' she suggested. 'Let's go to the bit where the Baudelaires entered your store-'
'My store which has the lowest prices on dustbin lids you've ever seen,' Milt added, and pointed to her notebook. He leaned back against the chair, and looked up at the ceiling, with the occasional glance at Geraldine.
'They came in, and they were skinny and pale and exhausted,' he explained.
'What did you do?' Geraldine asked.
'Well, the newspapers hadn't arrived, you see, since Lou was being late 'n' all, but I used my mind powers to find out who they were,' Milt explained. 'And then I knew they were murderers, so I told them to go to jail.' Geraldine smiled as she wrote it down.
'How honourable!' she cried, patting Milt's thigh. He smiled.
'And then this is them: no,' Milt added. 'And this is me: but you kill people, and this is them: so what mister fatass? And this is me: killing people is bad, and so is drugs, and this is them: we'll kill you, and this is-'
'Hold on a second,' Geraldine cried, scrolling down on a new page of the notebook. 'This is confusing: they threatened to kill you?' Milt nodded, and continued.
'This is me: you woul-'
'Please stop talking like that, it's a little hard to follow, Milty,' Geraldine continued with a frown. Milt nodded again, his hands on his fat belly.
'And then Lou came in, with the newspapers, and told me that they were the murderers, and I said that I already knew, because I used my mind powers, and then we teamed up, using the power of rings, and it took us a little while to fit into our supersuits,' Milt continued, but Geraldine held up a hand at this.
'Super suits?' she asked.
'Super suits,' Milt confirmed. 'Lou was my sidekick, and…stuff. So, when we put on our super suits, the murderers-or the Baddy Bauds, as me and Lou nicknamed them were hiding, because they were cowards, and because we were cool.'
'You what?' Geraldine asked.
'Don't interrupt me!' Milt shouted. 'And then-'
'I'll interrupt who I want!' Geraldine interrupted, slamming her notebook down on her knee. 'Let me get this straight: you and Lou had super powers, and you teamed up to catch these "so-called" Baddy Bauds, because they hit because you were cool?' Milt nodded, and took a sip of water from the glass beside him.
'And they called me fatass,' he reminded. Geraldine nodded, but paused.
'Was that before or after they ran?' she asked.
'Before,' Milt insisted. 'But put it in large bold letters.' Geraldine sighed.
'I don't think we can put the word 'fatass' in large, bold letters on the front page of our newspaper, Milt,' she cried. 'I'm not even sure if I get this story.'
'Then shut up and listen,' Milt replied. ''Cause I'm only gonna say this story once!'
'Once is enough,' Geraldine muttered under her breath. Milt didn't seem to hear, or if he did, he chose to ignore it.
'And then we flew around the shop looking,' Milt continued, 'and we were careful not to knock over the low-priced, but very entertaining china pots. Then we saw them, and then we used our laser eye beams, but they spat at me, and it wasn't very nice, so I used my fire powers to hit the baby because her teeth looked a bit sharp.'
'Which spat at you?' Geraldine asked. 'Veronica? Susie?'
'All of them spat at me,' Milt asked. 'Because they were gross. Then they all pulled out guns and made me choose between my money and my life. And I said-'
'What did you do?' Geraldine asked, getting into the story a little bit more.
'I'm getting there!' Milt cried loudly, his hands in fists.
'Hold on a second,' Geraldine murmured. 'Where did they get the guns from?' Milt looked up in thought for a couple of second before replying.
'They invented them when I wasn't looking,' he explained, with a confirming nod.
'Oh?' Geraldine replied, amazed, scrolling down notes in her notebook now enthralled with the violence of the Baudelaires.
'And then this is me: I pity the fool who does drugs and this-' Milt began.
'I thought we made an agreement about talking like that, Geraldine snarled, shaking her head slightly.
'Oh right, of course, yeah,' Milt said, hushed and quickly, completely into his story. 'And then they began to fly, because they had super powers too. And…and they shot me with their crafty knowledge. It hurt.'
'Where did they shoot you?' Geraldine asked.
'All over,' Milt replied, nodding thoroughly, even as he continued his story. 'They called me names, and poked me with large sticks, which were at a great deal price of $2.95 a stick. Write that down.' Geraldine nodded.
'So these Baudelaires aren't just baddies, but bullies to?' she cried. 'I can see the headline now 'BADDY BAUDS BULLY SHOPKEEPER'. I can't even begin to think of what the readers of the Daily Punctilio would think!' Milt nodded.
'I always used to dream of being on the front page of a newspaper,' he admitted, twiddling his thumbs.
'Don't we all?' Geraldine Julienne replied. 'I think I'll slip a little picture of me on there two, since this is my report. Now anyway Milt, let's get on with your brilliant recollection of this morning!'
'I grabbed the girl by the hair, and Lou made her sniff her least favourite herbs,' Milt replied. 'Because we didn't believe in violence, and we were waiting for the police to come.' Geraldine smiled and wrote something down.
'And then they didn't come, and the boy and the baby ran away, and we had to let go of the girl and the herbs-which were mangled in the process-' he gave a sigh at this,' and then we all ran round the aisles, like they do on Scooby Doo, where everyone runs in different places, and there's always a hilarious outcome in the end.'
'What was the hilarious outcome this time?' Geraldine asked.
'Well…well, Lou's superboot fell off when he was running past the pepper grinders, which was rather amusing,' he replied, nodding again. 'And then we heard the noise of the police sirens, but we wanted to give those Baddy Bauds one more lecture about murder and…' Milt searched for something to say, and the first thing he saw to give him an idea was Geraldine. 'And prostitution,' he muttered carefully.
'I see,' Geraldine replied, flicking over to a new page of her notebook.
'But when we looked around, all the police were dead, and we could see them flying out into the cloudy sky,' Milt confessed. 'We couldn't do anything.'
'But...' Geraldine explained,' you could have flown after them, couldn't you have?'
'Um,' Milt hesitated. 'Not without Lou's superboot, which was very itchy on result of all the pepper.'
'So that was the end?' Geraldine murmured.
'Yes,' Milt confirmed. Geraldine stood up, and slipped her notebook and pen into her jacket pocket. 'It should come out tomorrow morning if you're interested,' she murmured, and walked over to the door, holding it open for him.
'Bye Milt,' she said.
Milt left the room quickly-he was exhausted after the very tiring day fighting crime, and giving lectures. Being a superhero was hard work, even if he was talking complete crap.