Chapter 2, You Call This Place Classy?
Disclaimer: Nothing. That is all. Please see Irene at the help desk for more information
A/N: Here be chapter two as well as a bucket of Thanksgiving greetings for our fellow USA-ers! As I hate turkey and would never send it to one as a gift, we are instead releasing both Chapters 2 and 3 this week! Yes, yes, 'HUZZAH' and all that. We'd also like to thank Gypsy Rosalie, our first reviewer for Book 3! LET'S GET STARTED!
"Now," continued Kit, pulling out a big box, "in here are disguises that will get you past the cops. Also there is a Gold Card for you, Mr. Poe, under a false name of course."
"Of course." replied Mr. Poe. "We're here!" shouted the Chinese Kid, pulling the taxi to an abrupt stop. Looking out the windows, they could see the ginormous Hotel Plot Twist. It was a very tall building on a ridge that rose above the frosty beach.
"Well," said Kit, as she pushed the others out of the cab, "I will leave you on your own! Ta-ta! Step on it Shorty!" And then she was gone, leaving the Baudes, the Quags, and Mr. Poe alone with a box of weird things.
"Well," said Mr. Poe, "let's get started!"
Ten minutes later, in the giant and surprisingly almost empty lobby of the Hotel Plot Twist, which had some kind of giant clock in the ceiling or something like that, a giant chicken with a fat man wearing a white suit and bushy mustache, mounted on it strode inside. "May I help you?" asked the desk fellow. The man replied in a freaky Southern Accent that sounded like that big rooster on Looney Toons, "I see, I see here! I'm Colonel Sanders, the guy who invented Kentucky Fried Chicken. And this is my Chicken Steed, Maurice!" With that he slapped the big chicken on the rump, causing it to let loose with an explosive fart. "Eww!" came a voice from inside the chicken, "Chubs, did you do that?" "It wasn't me! I swear it wasn't!" came another voice. "Stop yelling at Chubs!" Came another.
"I did it!"
"You did?"
"Duncan!"
"Titicaca!"
Then, music began to emit from the chicken, "ON THE RADIO! WOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! ON THE RADIO! WOO-HOO!"
"Oh, sorry, that was my cell," came one of the voices again, then there was a sound like a phone turning on and then the same voice said, "Hi. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. No, I'm not. WTF? No, I'm not, you perv! Who is this? Well screw off!" The desk guy proceeded to say to 'Colonel Sanders', "What are those voices, Colonel?" the 'Colonel' replied, "You see, you see, those would be the ferrets Maurice had for breakfast. They be talkin' up a storm! Now, may I have a room?" here he withdrew a Gold Card, "I have credit!"
"Very well, sir."
"And I'll be needin' a damn big suite to! So Maurice won't be far from Papa!"
"Very well sir. Would you like our Presidential Suite? It takes up the entire top floor."
"That'll be mighty swell! I'll take that one!" "Very good sir," he took out a green card, "use this in the elevator, it's the only way you can get to the suite."
"Sure fire thing, boy!"
Taking the card, the 'Colonel' and 'Maurice' took off into the elevator.
Once inside, 'Maurice's' rear was un-zippered and the five children tumbled out, gasping for breath, "My word!" exclaimed Chubs, "That was suffocating!" "Yeah." agreed Violet, "Mr. Poe, you can take off your disguise now." Mr. Poe, who was running the green card through the slot said, "No! I like my funny mustache and accessories, and you can't take them from me!" "Vebinski!" said Sunny, which meant, "Could you SHUT THE HELL UP?"
Mr. Poe was about to respond in the negative, when the elevator door opened, revealing the presidential suite.
The place was very similar to the oval office.
There was a sofa-bed, a plasma screen TV, several marble toilets and ornate pots, a small, rusty desk that one would find in a one-room school house, a flag sporting the McDonalds sign, and a strong smell of charcoal.
"Oh, joy!" exclaimed Chubs as they stepped out of the elevator, "A minibar!". He dashed over to the shiny little fridge and opened it, revealing shelves of snacks and drinks. Chubs immediately began to wolf down as many morsels as he possibly could.
"Chubs," Violet began, exasperated, "those are like, $50 dollars a piece!"
"Oh, mini-bar Nazi are we?" Chubs asked, chips tumbling out of his mouth as he spoke.
"Now, now," began Mr. Poe before coughing again, "in the box Kit gave us, there are disguises for you, Baudelaires." "Why just us?" asked Violet. Mr. Poe replied, "Because you're the main characters! Now, Violet you will be disguised as a stripper in the stanky nightclub on the roof. Chubs, you will be disguised as an attendent in the spa on the fourth floor. Sunny, you will be disguised as the rat that prowls within the walls." With that, he tossed elaborate costumes to the Baudes, pushed them into the bathroom shouting, "Hurry along and change now!" and turned to the Quags, "Now," he said, staring at the wide collection of PC accesories under the Computer desk, "let's see what amusing games are waiting to be discovered in that little cupboard over there."
"This one looks most interesting!" remarked Duncan, holding up a case labeled, 'American McGee's Alice'.
DUN, DUN, DUN!
A/N: WOOT! I included my American McGee's Alice obsession! Yeah, next chapter the Baudes get hotel jobs and Mr. Poe and the Quags play American McGee's Alice. I can't really tell you which one is better!
Update Already Up!:)