**A/N: Thank you oodles and bunches for all the lovely reviews I've received for this attempt at a fanfiction. I intend to continue this story, and I'm actually getting pathetically involved with it…I probably won't be posting for awhile because I'm trying to re-read the books and am taking notes on anything related to Beatrice, Jacques, Lemony, the Baudelaire parents, and V.F.D. I thought I'd move the story along just a little bit though, so enjoy this while it lasts! Lol I'll try to finish rereading soon so I can finish this. R/R if you feel so inclined. **
Although it may not seem so, there is a very big difference between being right and being almost right. For example, if there was a ferocious man-eating spider monkey outside your apartment and waiting to pounce on the first person that left your room, and you told your roommate that there was a spider monkey outside, you would be almost right. But, as you can see, being almost right could have tragic consequences. If perhaps your roommate was in desperate need of a new broomstick handle and went out into the hall to find one, thinking that the spider monkey was harmless, and was immediately devoured, the fact that you had been almost right when you described the obstacle wouldn't count for much. So it was with Esme's interpretation that the reservation of seats for the performance of "Eyes on You". In actuality, she was only almost right when she told her macaroni and cheese loving fiancée that there was a couple by the name of Baudelaire. Well, I suppose you could say she was half right, because half of that couple WAS named Baudelaire.
Mr. Baudelaire was extremely handsome and wealthy, but he wasn't yet married to the woman he was taking to the play with the dastardly Count and his lovely friend Beatrice. The future Mrs. Baudelaire was also young, beautiful, and wealthy, and she was very anxious to start a family with her handsome fiancée. She had always wanted to have three children, and it was her dream to always keep them safe from any kind of misery and woe for as long as they lived.
Unfortunately, you and I know that her dreams were dashed on that fateful day when people that the Baudelaires had once called friends set fire to their home. On the night of the play, the four V.F.D. members were all giddy with excitement, a phrase which here means "very happy to be safe and happy in each other's company for the duration of the evening." Or at least, it started out that way.
"Beatrice, may I speak to you?"
Beatrice turned to see who had spoken and saw the kindly face of Jacques Snicket in the doorway of her dressing chamber.
At this point, I feel I must explain something. The Jacques that Beatrice saw the night of the horrible play that set in motion the events that would end her life almost 15 years later looked nothing like the Jacques that the Baudelaire children would one day see being persecuted by a bunch of fowl devotees in a vile village. This Jacques had two eyebrows, instead of one, and the tattoo of an eye on his ankle signified his unending devotion to a noble cause, not his status as a Count Olaf look alike.
Speaking of Count Olaf, he chose to walk in right at that very moment and spoil any chances Jacques might have had to tell Beatrice of his undying love, as well as his suspicion of the Count.
"Beatrice, my dear, you look absolutely lovely!" Olaf cried with glee. I feel I should also add, at this point, that the Olaf that Beatrice saw that night was also a different Olaf than the greedy, evil man the Baudelaire orphans had come to know so well.
The Olaf of Beatrice's time had a heart not caked with greed and malice and bitter hurt, but with purity and willingness to help others. He still had one eyebrow, and not two, which was an unattractive trait to say the least, but his kind heart and handsome face more than made up for it. He wasn't quite as scrawny as he was the day he opened the door and admitted three trembling orphans into his home, and he was dressed impeccably, a phrase which here means "in very fancy clothes that were appropriate for a function such as a play, and were meant to impress Beatrice."
"Why thank you, Count!" Beatrice squealed, putting her hands in his. You may be wondering now just what exactly was going on with Beatrice and the dear Count, and what had happened to poor old Lemony, her beau of a good many years. The truth is, it is a very sensitive subject for everyone involved, as it seemed that Beatrice was slowly falling for the charming Count, although she continued to refer to Lemony as her boyfriend. Only time would reveal the true dealings of Beatrice's fickle heart.
It was at that precise moment that Mr. Baudelaire breezed into the dressing chamber, looking very dapper and followed by his utterly beautiful fiancée. Jacques slipped out of the room quietly, and the worst part is that Beatrice did not even seem to notice.
"We better get a move on," Mr. Baudelaire said to his three companions. "According to the Daily Punctilio, the play starts in a little more than an hour, and I believe we were planning on dinner first."
"The professional play reviewer in the Daily Punctilio said that the play was absolutely marvelous," the future Mrs. Baudelaire added with a smile.
"And I saw the restaurant reviewer's article that said the restaurant where we plan to eat is simply superb," threw in Beatrice.
"The front page article in the Daily Punctilio was about the man that wrote the play, and he sounds like a genius. He lost his leg in a fire as a young child and ate only chicken enchiladas for three years in a row," Count Olaf told them all in awe.
Mistrust is a word that is used quite frequently in books. The main character usually mistrusts someone who turns out to be a thief or perhaps a murderer. Women usually mistrust their cheating spouses, and sometimes restaurant patrons mistrust their waiters and ask for their check a little too quickly. I myself am very mistrustful of the very thin wire cord that is suspending a large purple hippopotamus only feet above my head as I type this, and I am also very mistrustful of the evil circus clown at the other end of the wire holding a scissors. Count Olaf, the Baudelaires, and Beatrice had no reason to mistrust the Daily Punctilio. They trusted that the time of the play was correct, they trusted that the play would be fantastic, they trusted that the restaurant would be wonderful, and they trusted the fact that the playwright really was disabled and obsessed with Mexican food.
However, I'm sad to say, mistrust would have been more appropriate regarding any article found in the Daily Punctilio. But after all those years of trusting it, Beatrice would one day trust the writers of the Daily Punctilio when she shouldn't have, and it would ruin her relationship with the man called Lemony Snicket forever.
Although it may not seem so, there is a very big difference between being right and being almost right. For example, if there was a ferocious man-eating spider monkey outside your apartment and waiting to pounce on the first person that left your room, and you told your roommate that there was a spider monkey outside, you would be almost right. But, as you can see, being almost right could have tragic consequences. If perhaps your roommate was in desperate need of a new broomstick handle and went out into the hall to find one, thinking that the spider monkey was harmless, and was immediately devoured, the fact that you had been almost right when you described the obstacle wouldn't count for much. So it was with Esme's interpretation that the reservation of seats for the performance of "Eyes on You". In actuality, she was only almost right when she told her macaroni and cheese loving fiancée that there was a couple by the name of Baudelaire. Well, I suppose you could say she was half right, because half of that couple WAS named Baudelaire.
Mr. Baudelaire was extremely handsome and wealthy, but he wasn't yet married to the woman he was taking to the play with the dastardly Count and his lovely friend Beatrice. The future Mrs. Baudelaire was also young, beautiful, and wealthy, and she was very anxious to start a family with her handsome fiancée. She had always wanted to have three children, and it was her dream to always keep them safe from any kind of misery and woe for as long as they lived.
Unfortunately, you and I know that her dreams were dashed on that fateful day when people that the Baudelaires had once called friends set fire to their home. On the night of the play, the four V.F.D. members were all giddy with excitement, a phrase which here means "very happy to be safe and happy in each other's company for the duration of the evening." Or at least, it started out that way.
"Beatrice, may I speak to you?"
Beatrice turned to see who had spoken and saw the kindly face of Jacques Snicket in the doorway of her dressing chamber.
At this point, I feel I must explain something. The Jacques that Beatrice saw the night of the horrible play that set in motion the events that would end her life almost 15 years later looked nothing like the Jacques that the Baudelaire children would one day see being persecuted by a bunch of fowl devotees in a vile village. This Jacques had two eyebrows, instead of one, and the tattoo of an eye on his ankle signified his unending devotion to a noble cause, not his status as a Count Olaf look alike.
Speaking of Count Olaf, he chose to walk in right at that very moment and spoil any chances Jacques might have had to tell Beatrice of his undying love, as well as his suspicion of the Count.
"Beatrice, my dear, you look absolutely lovely!" Olaf cried with glee. I feel I should also add, at this point, that the Olaf that Beatrice saw that night was also a different Olaf than the greedy, evil man the Baudelaire orphans had come to know so well.
The Olaf of Beatrice's time had a heart not caked with greed and malice and bitter hurt, but with purity and willingness to help others. He still had one eyebrow, and not two, which was an unattractive trait to say the least, but his kind heart and handsome face more than made up for it. He wasn't quite as scrawny as he was the day he opened the door and admitted three trembling orphans into his home, and he was dressed impeccably, a phrase which here means "in very fancy clothes that were appropriate for a function such as a play, and were meant to impress Beatrice."
"Why thank you, Count!" Beatrice squealed, putting her hands in his. You may be wondering now just what exactly was going on with Beatrice and the dear Count, and what had happened to poor old Lemony, her beau of a good many years. The truth is, it is a very sensitive subject for everyone involved, as it seemed that Beatrice was slowly falling for the charming Count, although she continued to refer to Lemony as her boyfriend. Only time would reveal the true dealings of Beatrice's fickle heart.
It was at that precise moment that Mr. Baudelaire breezed into the dressing chamber, looking very dapper and followed by his utterly beautiful fiancée. Jacques slipped out of the room quietly, and the worst part is that Beatrice did not even seem to notice.
"We better get a move on," Mr. Baudelaire said to his three companions. "According to the Daily Punctilio, the play starts in a little more than an hour, and I believe we were planning on dinner first."
"The professional play reviewer in the Daily Punctilio said that the play was absolutely marvelous," the future Mrs. Baudelaire added with a smile.
"And I saw the restaurant reviewer's article that said the restaurant where we plan to eat is simply superb," threw in Beatrice.
"The front page article in the Daily Punctilio was about the man that wrote the play, and he sounds like a genius. He lost his leg in a fire as a young child and ate only chicken enchiladas for three years in a row," Count Olaf told them all in awe.
Mistrust is a word that is used quite frequently in books. The main character usually mistrusts someone who turns out to be a thief or perhaps a murderer. Women usually mistrust their cheating spouses, and sometimes restaurant patrons mistrust their waiters and ask for their check a little too quickly. I myself am very mistrustful of the very thin wire cord that is suspending a large purple hippopotamus only feet above my head as I type this, and I am also very mistrustful of the evil circus clown at the other end of the wire holding a scissors. Count Olaf, the Baudelaires, and Beatrice had no reason to mistrust the Daily Punctilio. They trusted that the time of the play was correct, they trusted that the play would be fantastic, they trusted that the restaurant would be wonderful, and they trusted the fact that the playwright really was disabled and obsessed with Mexican food.
However, I'm sad to say, mistrust would have been more appropriate regarding any article found in the Daily Punctilio. But after all those years of trusting it, Beatrice would one day trust the writers of the Daily Punctilio when she shouldn't have, and it would ruin her relationship with the man called Lemony Snicket forever.