Olaf is evil. Really evil. 

I got the idea form pg. 31 of TCC. Lulu sounds totally P.O.ed when Esme announces she is Olaf's girlfriend. Why?

'Cuz Lulu and Olaf were sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G, then came Esme, and we found out Olaf was C-H-E-A-T-I-N-G.

And, well, no girl can take that from her man.

But, sometimes, he makes her…

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"Besides," Esme said,  "I've retired from show business. All I want to be now is Count Olaf's girlfriend." 
 
My world turned upside down. A silence swept over the room. Count Olaf smiled weakly at me, while his comrades ate their chicken attentively.  
 
So that's the game he's playing. I thought, shaking furiously.  
 
I sighed, a long angry sigh. 
 
How could he? I wondered. Well, he and his fucking whore can leave my carnival! 
 
"You did not tell me, my Olaf, that Esme was the girlfriend of you." I said, icily, using my accent. I hated that accent. "Perhaps Madame Lulu will not let you and troupe stay at the carnival of mine." 
 
The troupe looked horrified, and glared menacingly at Count Olaf. Esme's mouth opened in outrage. 
 
Count Olaf just stood there. 
 
Then, he gave me a toothy grin. 
 
"Now, now, Lulu," He said. 
 
I gritted my teeth. That bastard had just broken my fucking heart, and all he can do is smile, and say "Now, now?" 
 
"Did I ever tell you how I began my career as an actor?" He suddenly put his hand on my arm, and squeezed three times. I knew what that meant. It was our signal. 
 
He and I were going to have a little chat. At 3:00 A.M. 
 
I knocked quietly at the guest caravan's door. It was three A.M., and I just got back from escorting the new freaks to their caravan. 
 
Olaf had said my sudden getting of the freaks was his luck radiating upon me. I pounded harder on his door. I can't even let go of my fake identity in my head. I thought, angrily. What I had thought about the freaks sounded as though I said it in my accent. 
 
Giving up, I slid on to the ground, and propped myself against the caravan wall. It's his fault I have to use that fucking accent anyway.  I pouted. 
 
Why did he do this to me? 
 
The thought randomly crossed my mind. 
 
Why do I care what he did? I thought It's not like we were in love, or anything. 
 
At least, he wasn't in love.
 
Suddenly, the caravan door opened. Olaf stepped out, wearing nothing but a bathrobe. Inside, I heard Esme murmur something that sounded like "Come back, soon, baby," 
 
I quit pouting right then.
 
"Lulu," Olaf said softly. 
 
The fact he said my name, which wasn't even my real name, infuriated me. 
 
"Why don't you just scream it, Olaf?" I yelled loudly. "Like you did when we first-"
 
He swiftly put his hand on my mouth. "Shut up." He snarled. 
 
I bit his hand hard. He let go with a silent cry. 
 
"How dare you?"  I drew myself to my full height, and slapped him as hard as I could. 
 
He grabbed my hand in mid-air, and pulled me close to him. "I love you," He said, smoothly, putting his other hand on my cheek. "Not Esme." 
 
"Then why are you with her? Why does she think she is your girlfriend? Huh?" I was getting angrier by the second. I shoved him away. 
 
"Answer me." I dared him. 
 
He was silent for a minute. Then, he sighed. 
 
"Because it's true." He whispered, taking a cigarette out of his robe pocket. He lit it, then took a puff. 
 
"Sorry, baby," He said, truthfully. "But Esme beats you by a long shot." 
 
I stood there, stunned. I could literally feel my heart breaking in half. 
 
No one toyed with my heart. 
 
"Oh, she does." I started. "Then, you don't really need to know where the Baudelaires are, do you? Or if one of the parents are alive? Because if you did maybe you wouldn't have cheated!"  
 
He flicked some ash off his cigarette, and breathed a cloud of smoke into the frosty air. He looked utterly unmoved by my previous statement. 
 
"It wasn't cheating. You and I, what we did, it was a one time thing. Nothing more."  He looked at me. "Sorry, if you thought it wasn't."
 
I felt a tear roll down my cheek.  "You said you loved me." 
 
"Nope." He sounded totally indifferent. 
 
I stared at the ground, and closed my eyes. I remember what my mother had done to my father when something like this had happened to her. 
 
With clenched fists, I glared up at him. 
 
"Leave." I cried, savagely. "Take your troupe, and your girlfriend with you. And, never come back."
 
Count Olaf sighed. 
 
"I thought you'd say that." He grabbed my arm, then pinned me to the caravan. I saw him take a knife out of his pocket. 
 
I gasped. 
 
"My troupe, and I are not leaving, Lulu." He hissed, cutting an ugly jagged cut down my arm. I felt the tears roll out of my eyes, as I bit my lip to keep from crying out. 
 
"We are going to stay until my questions are answered. I've tried to make your last days comfortable, and oblivious, but after you answer the aforesaid questions," He paused to let me go. I struggled to stay standing. "We're killing you." 
 
"Why?" I asked, bitterly. 
 
He turned to go back into his caravan. "We won't need you, anymore." 
 
"I hate you." I whispered. He turned back around to face me. 
 
"Good night, Lulu," He sneered. "It would probably be best if you forgot about all this." 
 
He went back into his caravan. 
 
I allowed myself to sink on to the ground. 
 
Twisted. I thought. This is twisted. 
 
I took a deep shaky breath, and decided to go into my "fortune-telling" tent. I had a lot of research to do if I wanted to live. 
 
A lot. 
 
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Man, that was all so depressing, and stuff. I suppose it illustrates how sick Count Olaf is but still…
 
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…review.