Summary: "Yes, Esmé was evil and proud of it.  Straight up proud of it foo, she felt like adding, just for good inness."  Esmé reflects on her oh so very evil inness.       

Rated G – Everyone can read!

Disclaimer: Sir Snicket owns Esmé, those Bauldelaire brats, and everyone else mentioned in this fic.  Not me.  Don't sue.  It isn't any fun, I assure you.

AN: This ficlet takes place in The Ersatz Elevator, right after Esmé pushed those Bauldelaire brats down that horribly out elevator shaft.   

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Sit Back and Cackle

Esmé Squalor, poster woman of in, fashion diva, and the single trendiest person on Earth, fell back into her lilac and maroon (two colors that were oh so very in) chaise lounge and took a deep sigh of relief.

She, and only she, had fooled all of the fools that needed to be fooled.  She had outwitted the dimwits.  She had conquered, she had won, she was woman and would even roar to prove it.  Oh, yes, evil was very in and Esmé was very evil therefore she was hip and down with it (gangster lingo was also currently the most in way to speak). 

She had fooled her idiot of a husband, Jerome, she had fooled those insufferable children and that chipmunk molar baby; she had fooled everyone.  She was evil and in ... and she enjoyed it immensely.

Olaf would be so proud of her.  She deserved the most expensive yellow rain galoshes for her job well done (they were unmistakably in at the moment) and perhaps even bright canary yellow nail polish and a large yellow bow for her beautiful shiny black hair (all were in) to match.  And Olaf would give it to her.  Finally, she had met a man that truly appreciated in things.  Sure, he wasn't the most hygienic man she had ever met but he was deliciously intastic with his high amount of evil energy that radiated from him like the sun's rays. 

That's a thought, Esmé pondered to herself.  Perhaps Olaf, the great dearie that he was, would even purchase the sun for her!  It was just so in that big yellow star.  Yellow bright things were much more in than those that were dim and dreary, that was a fact.  It couldn't possibly fetch for too much money could it?  Esmé was almost completely sure that it would be able to fit in 667 Dark Avenue.  It would be a tight fit, yes, but the large amount of money she would save on interior lighting (darkness was so terribly out now and she had thrown out all her lamps, flashlights, her 57 and ½ chandeliers, candles, and her one potato connected by wire to a battery)!

Oh, yes, Esmé was terribly evil.  She felt especially evil now, having just pushed those Baudelaire brats down that dark, grimy elevator shaft (and it was so horribly out too).  Yes, Esmé was evil and proud of it.  Straight up proud of it foo, she felt like adding, just for good inness. 

Sometimes in life, you just have to be evil (but always in, of course, and evil was in so therefore Esmé Squalor was just the innest thing you ever did see). 

Esmé sprawled herself out on her horribly in chaise lounge and while thinking of all the wickedness she had committed, all the in things she had done in the last month, she cackled.  She cackled long, hard, and good.

Yes, Esmé Squalor was very in (and evil) indeed.