Happy Holidays!
Special Passover edition.
I'm sorry about that.
Those cliff-hangers were irresistible.
Does VIolet Survive? (Spoiler alert - she does this time.)
Does Beatrice Survive? (How would I know this story if she doesn't?)
Does Lemony Snicket survive? (I'll tell you when I'm back safely after the Passover Seder - I need to check that nothing is poisoned; last year, there was rat poison in my wine!)
Why is Lemony Snicket going to a place called Disaster Island for Passover? (Clues, Beatrice, and the Dead body of a relative.)
Who the hell is - ENOUGH! Stop these questions! There are supposed to only be four!
ANYWAY... on a submarine shaped like a giant octopus...
Captain Widdershins studied the Radar screen. Next to him stood his son and daughter, Fernald and Fiona. "Aye! They dropped 'em now! Full stop! Get ;em!"
The two young sailors snapped to attention. "AYE AYE SIR!" Fernald and Fiona rushed to their stations. Their hands (and hooks) flew as they worked together to bring the ship to a stop and to pick up the pirates victims. Meanwhile, two fashionably dressed young men operated the ships arms to grab the young sharkbaits and carry them aboard. There was a mechanical hiss as the inner airlock opened, dumping an unconscious Sunny and Beatrice Baudelaire onto the floor of the Queequeg II.
Julian Cordova gasped at the horrible sight: Both of the girls were deathly pale and Sunny had deep, still-bleeding cuts on her arms and cheeks. He grabbed the children in his arms and rushed them to the sickroom.
"Klym!" He was desperate. The children were hardly breathing and Sunny was bleeding profusely, a word which here means all over Julian's pinstriped suit jacket. "I need stitches for Sunny. Also, check their lungs for water. The pirates tossed them over."
In the sickroom sat a girl of about seventeen, wearing a surgeon's mask, cap, and gown, preparing a painkiller. She looked up when Julian engered the room, and, realizing that Sunny was unconscious, dropped the painkiller on her floor, the glass tube shattering into a dozen plus pieces.
Julian put Sunny on the table and handed Klymenesteria Lavier the surgical thread. "No offense, but I think I'd rather have Miles do this."
Klymenesteria didn't look up from stitching Sunny's bloody face. "You think I'd rather do this myself, than have a professional surgeon do it? You saw how clean he does it - he fixed up Jackie's face so well you can't even tell he was ever attacked in his life. Me? I'd be surprised if Sunny doesn't end up with thick white lines down her face and arms for the rest of her life." She tied the thread off and cut it. "Done. Find them berths."
Julian picked up the girls again and rushed off to find a room for them. As he crossed the hall, he overheard Captain Widdershins and Jeremy Svenson arguing.
"Captain, we have to rescue them," Jeremy said. "If the Pirates kill the Baudelaires, then we cannot retrieve the formula. I lost my notes, and if they kill Violet, I will be unable to rebuild the machine."
"Aye Mr. Svenson, but you built the machine to begin with." Captain Widdershins frowned. "Can you not rebuild it?"
Jerry smiled. "I was still under the influence. For the strength gained is strongest in the first thirty days. Now, years later, the machine is destroyed and the formula is most urgent to win this war."
The Captain looked confused. "But can't you just take the steroid again? After all, that is what made you like this in the first place. If you have a second dose, won't it make you even smarter?"
Jeremy grimaced. "I dare not. I've hidden the MuNu-72-48 somewhere so secure even the man in the steel chamber doesn't know where it is. The defences are so good... The likelyhood is that even I will not survive an attempt to retrieve it. Even if I did get it, you saw what happened to Arnold. We don't want that to happen to me."
Julian walked off, shaken by what he had heard. How are we going to free the Baudelaires? Why is this formula so important?
The fourth room was open. He walked inside, put the girls down on one of the beds, covered them with a blanket and left, shutting the door on the way out. He felt a tap on the shoulder and turned around. Standing there was Miles Svenson, dressed in his combat gear. His mask was off, revealing his glowing purple eyes and perfect smile.
"Hello Julian. We're waiting for you in the command room. Arnold is there as well. Be prepared; we're launching a rescue mission."
Miles led the way into the command center of the Queequeg II, his steel tipped boots making loud clicking noises on the floor. Inside the command center, around a large table were nine people: the three Widdershins, the Quagmire triplets, Jerry and Arnold Svenson, and Kurt Lavier. Miles sat down between Jerry and Arnold, across from Fernald Widdershins.
"Everybody, prepare for battle," Miles said. "We attack the ship at nightfall. That is in three and a half hours from now. As soon as Arnold gives the signal, we board. Karl Lavier will stay behind for sixty seconds, then you find the cells and free the Baudelaires. Any questions?"
Arnold gave a sly grin. "I'm so happy that you put so much trust in your little brother."
Quigley and Duncan raised their hands.
"Duncan first." Miles said.
"What are we going to use?" Duncan asked "We have no equipment."
Miles laughed. "Karl is currently estimating your sizes and putting armor and weapons in your rooms. Quigley?"
"What will Arnold's signal be?" Quigley asked.
Ignoring the question, Miles looked around again. "Any more questions?" He asked. "Meeting dismissed. Everyone, be dressed and ready for battle in three hours. And may we all see tomorrow morning."
As Quigley rose from his seat, Arnold stopped him, lowered his sunglasses, and looked him in the eyes with his strange glowing irises. "Shrieks of terror." He grinned.
"Excuse me?" Quigley frowned.
"The signal," Arnold said, his smile widening. "Shrieks of terror."