~a/n: Read "Lemony Snicket: the Unauthorized Autobiography". It's good sh*t. trust me, that good sh*t can come in handy.

To my kind and most patient editor:

I regret to inform you, from this park bench that may or may not be at least 12.78 km from the panic place, that I must take another extension on "The Slippery Slope", as I have received a very disturbing message recently at the panic place:

From where I am I cannot hear bells ring. I must get out of here as
soon as possible. I am somewhere very dark. It is so dark and it is
very hard not to panic. This is horrible-you must stay far away from
here if you want to see any light from the sun again. Trust me, you
never want to be here. You must stay away; I am the only one to wait
here. I can only remember all we shared and wait for the end of my
troubles. I will think of all the fond memories we have created and
wait alone for the next life. When I am an angel I will be the carrier
of your soul-personally-and we will be happy as pigeons being fed in a
park.
Ring my soul to heaven when this agony relents.

This letter, which undoubtly makes very little, if any, sense to you, is more vital to me than you could possibly imagine. However, it requires me to stay rather far away from any place where I could research the lives of the Bauldilare orphans. I have, however, gotten a few scraps of information by happenstance, and I will incorporate those into my data pool and manuscript while I am here. You may note that I have also included a small blue rock, smoothed by water and wind, for Mr. Helquist. This is not so much to help him with his illustrations-I feel that he has done a fantastic job of bringing my tragic words into tragic pictures and deserve a nice blue rock for his efforts.

Once again I thank you for the patience and kindness you have shown me, and please never forget that you are my last hope that the tale of the Bauldilare children should be told to the general public.

With all due respect,

Lemony Snicket