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Visualpurple: I know it's depressing, but at least it's almost over now!

Chapter 31 – A Fruitless Mission

By the next morning, Lemony was journeying alone to the city with only a typewriter, a green commonplace notebook, and a black bowler hat to his name.

When his sister, Kit, had wanted to go with him, he hadn't exactly said yes or no, but his mind was already made up. Kit was, he decided, too frail to be taken anywhere. Her mechanical skills and knowledge of the ocean would have been useful, but he remembered the time he saw her, crumpled and severely injured, over the hatch of her damaged submarine. All he cared about now was Kit's health, and he knew she would be out of trouble at the headquarters.

He still felt dishonest, like he was misleading her. He felt especially guilty about not telling her outright whenever she brought him blankets and food, all while she talking excitedly about her plans for the trip, which she assumed she would be taking with him. She would say things like, "It'll be much more exciting traveling with you than staying at the headquarters. I can't wait to leave!"

Lemony had only nodded weakly and pretended to be busy packing as Kit continued talking hurriedly to him. He managed to leave early the next morning after sneaking in to Kit's room to copy the information from her commonplace onto his own. He didn't like doing this to his sister, but he knew that he had to remember that she was, after all, still his little sister, and he had a duty to protect her. If he told her that he would leave without her, he knew she would try to convince him otherwise, so he chose the path of least resistance.

He journeyed for weeks, constantly trying to find the Baudelaires. His search soon turned frantic when he found out that the "relative" they were staying with was actually Count Olaf. Through his research, he learned all about what happened to those unfortunate children, but he had so far been unable to catch up with them. The fear for the children's safety and the hope that his siblings were still safe were his only thoughts as he followed the children's trail from Count Olaf's filthy house to several completely destroyed houses, taking notes as he went. He had been trained at an early age to take notes on everything he learned, and it had been a helpful tool to him over the years, even though he had been in and out of touch with VFD for a while now. This habit gave him a feeling of usefulness, which was a nice change from the uselessness that he had felt in New York. He was back in his element: a trained researcher doing what he did best.

But through it all, he thought about his brother, still holding on to the hope that everything would still be all right. I hope Jacques is doing okay…

At about 7:32 am, a dusty and mildly sunburned man stumbled into a small village that was seemingly in the middle of nowhere. He seemed extremely annoyed about being forced to walk through that endless wasteland surrounding the town, and was thinking along the lines of, If I had known that the bus wouldn't take me all the way here, I would've rented a mule or a bicycle from that farmer.

However, the man had determined look about him. He had come to this village to look for somebody, and he wouldn't leave until he had found them. He wasn't sure how he would accomplish this goal, but he figured that now would be the time to think about it, because the streets seemed completely empty except for a few dozen sleeping crows roosting on an ugly bird-shaped fountain.

He shuffled wearily over to the fountain to think about how to continue his search and to rest his weary legs. The blisters he had developed during that long walk were becoming quite painful, so he peeled off his shoes and discreetly put his feet into the cool water. Putting his head in his hands, he tried to think, only to be interrupted by strange scratching noises coming from the fountain. He looked up, but all he saw were four figures looking down at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said apologetically to the villagers as he took his bare feet gingerly out of the fountain. "It's just that my feet… y'know… it was a long walk, and… I'm very sorry…"

However, he found that the townspeople weren't listening to him; they weren't even looking at him. They were looking right at his left ankle. He scarcely had time to mutter another "I'm sorry about your fountain" before the four people shouted, "It's him! It's Count Omar!"

"Where?" the man asked as he looked around, but he soon realized that they were talking about him. The fact that they had grabbed him roughly by the arms and were dragging him away also tipped him off.

"This is a mistake!" he yelled as the townspeople dragged him through the dusty street. "I'm just looking for someone!"

"Yeah," muttered a rather plump woman with a crow feather stuck in her hat. "Like those poor Baudelaires that you're always bothering, Omar!"

"Omar?" he asked quizzically, and then he remembered about the bad reporting in the Daily Punctilio about the Baudelaire case. "Oh, you must mean Olaf! See, my name is…"

"So you admit it!"

"No, I'm not him!"

"Don't lie; you have the tattoo!"

"But that's for my job; we all…"

He was rudely interrupted by a tall, fashionable police officer wearing a large helmet and a pair of shoes with sharp stiletto heels. "It is a violation," she said with a sneer, "of rule number 19,833 for a villain to be inside the town. It is also against the rules for the rule breaker to speak during his capture, so shut up!"

"But I'm not Olaf! Olaf attacked my sister! Please, my name is Jacques! I can prove-" Jacques pleaded desperately as the officer dragged him away, surrounded by an angry mob.

The officer managed to throw the surprised Jacques into a bare cell and lock the door, all while balancing precariously on stiletto heels. As she locked the door, Jacques could hear her muttering to herself, "These gullible villagers can't wait to burn another rule breaker at the stake, and Olaf will be so pleased that I've gotten rid of one of the snooping Snickets that maybe he'll buy me a new outfit!" At this point, Jacques realized who this must be. It was Esme. She walked away as she fixed her lipstick, leaving her prisoner to contemplate his fate.

Jacques looked around the cell, finding, to his dismay, that there was no way to escape without the aid of Esme's keys, and there was no way to contact his siblings. This certainly was not one of his better days.

Evening was approaching, and he sunk to the floor, deep in thought, despair creeping into his mind as he realized that this whole thing was a trapfrom Olaf. Yep, this wasn't one of his better days.