A/N: Hi! I already have written 7 chapters of this story and posted them
on www.lemonysnicket.net –great site. Sorry this first chapter is so
short—when I wrote it I wasn't sure how long I was going to make the story
so I decided to do it very, very, short. Mweehehehehe! Hope you like it!
Disclaimer: sigh I still don't own anything. Not even a DVD player. This sucks!
Chapter 1
The Baudelaire orphans had been crouching in the trunk of Count Olaf's car for hours, listening to his associates argue about articles in that day's Daily Punctilio and having cigarette butts thrown at them carelessly from the seat in front of them. Scarcely breathing for fear of Count Olaf's associates hearing them, they began to worry. When would the car stop, and where? How would they escape? Where would they live? These questions buzzed inside their brains and made their hearts beat too fast.
"I wonder if the brats got out of the hospital in time," said a scratchy, whispery voice, which the orphans recognized to be Count Olaf's. "If they didn't, we can't get their fortune."
"They probably did, considering it's them. I don't really care too much anyway, at least then they couldn't run around trying to find information so that they can accuse us of crimes," said a snooty-sounding, high-pitched voice, which most likely belonged to Esme Squalor.
Back in the trunk, the orphans smiled.
"This is the first time in a long while that they haven't known exactly where we are," Violet whispered.
"And we're actually a lot closer to them than we have been in the past," added Klaus.
"Kitsalo!" Sunny breathed. She probably meant something along the lines of "Unfortunately."
"Well, we still have to figure out a way to get out of this trunk. We are in quite a bad situation here. Any ideas?" Violet asked. She hoped her siblings had some, because she certainly didn't.
"Er..." Klaus started hesitantly. "I don't think I've read any books about how to escape from the bullet-hole-peppered trunks of evil-people's cars before."
"Choo," Sunny said, sighing softly and resting her tiny head on Violet's knee. By "choo" she meant "And I don't think I can bite our way out of this trunk. My four sharp teeth never were much against metal, anyway."
"Can you invent something to get us out of here, Violet?" Klaus whispered hopefully. In the front of the car, the bald man with the long nose and the hook-handed man had now changed the subject of conversation from The Daily Punctilio to the best flavors of ice cream.
"What do I have to work with? Some empty bottles of wine? Medical coats? A crystal ball? Metal bat--" Violet stopped. She had just pointed to a pair of batons, which are sticks that people in parades spin around and do tricks with. Metal batons, fortunately, can also be used to pry open the rusty, cracked doors of people's cars. This is exactly what Violet then explained to her younger siblings. That was how they would get out of the trunk...if only the car hadn't stopped right then.
Disclaimer: sigh I still don't own anything. Not even a DVD player. This sucks!
Chapter 1
The Baudelaire orphans had been crouching in the trunk of Count Olaf's car for hours, listening to his associates argue about articles in that day's Daily Punctilio and having cigarette butts thrown at them carelessly from the seat in front of them. Scarcely breathing for fear of Count Olaf's associates hearing them, they began to worry. When would the car stop, and where? How would they escape? Where would they live? These questions buzzed inside their brains and made their hearts beat too fast.
"I wonder if the brats got out of the hospital in time," said a scratchy, whispery voice, which the orphans recognized to be Count Olaf's. "If they didn't, we can't get their fortune."
"They probably did, considering it's them. I don't really care too much anyway, at least then they couldn't run around trying to find information so that they can accuse us of crimes," said a snooty-sounding, high-pitched voice, which most likely belonged to Esme Squalor.
Back in the trunk, the orphans smiled.
"This is the first time in a long while that they haven't known exactly where we are," Violet whispered.
"And we're actually a lot closer to them than we have been in the past," added Klaus.
"Kitsalo!" Sunny breathed. She probably meant something along the lines of "Unfortunately."
"Well, we still have to figure out a way to get out of this trunk. We are in quite a bad situation here. Any ideas?" Violet asked. She hoped her siblings had some, because she certainly didn't.
"Er..." Klaus started hesitantly. "I don't think I've read any books about how to escape from the bullet-hole-peppered trunks of evil-people's cars before."
"Choo," Sunny said, sighing softly and resting her tiny head on Violet's knee. By "choo" she meant "And I don't think I can bite our way out of this trunk. My four sharp teeth never were much against metal, anyway."
"Can you invent something to get us out of here, Violet?" Klaus whispered hopefully. In the front of the car, the bald man with the long nose and the hook-handed man had now changed the subject of conversation from The Daily Punctilio to the best flavors of ice cream.
"What do I have to work with? Some empty bottles of wine? Medical coats? A crystal ball? Metal bat--" Violet stopped. She had just pointed to a pair of batons, which are sticks that people in parades spin around and do tricks with. Metal batons, fortunately, can also be used to pry open the rusty, cracked doors of people's cars. This is exactly what Violet then explained to her younger siblings. That was how they would get out of the trunk...if only the car hadn't stopped right then.