Do you have any suspicions about Mr. Remora?
Mr. Remora was Violet Baudelaire, and Duncan Quagmire's teacher at Prufrock Preparatory School. He was always eating bananas, one after the other; he just 'popped' them in.
Why?
He always told pointless stories, and made the students take notes on them.
Why?
Was he in VFD?
Is he noble?
Is he on the bad side of the schism?
Is he volatile?
Why was he at Hotel Denouement?
What important-and very big-details did he leave out of his stories?
What didn't he tell you?
I can't answer all of these questions, but I am determined to give you the story behind his stories.
"One day I went to the store to purchase a carton of milk. When I got home, I poured the milk into a glass and drank it. Then I watched television. The end."
–Mr. Remora, The AA
This story is only told in a couple of sentences, you can't tell a whole story in three or four sentences, not one as detailed as the following story about Mr. Remora. It happened on the very same day as the previous story, in fact, it is the previous story…
It was a sweltering hot day. The weather was above 35ºC. There had been a heat wave over the last week, but no days had been as hot as this eventful Friday evening.
Robert Remora was sitting under a ceiling fan reading The Daily Punctilio.
He scoffed as he shoved a banana into his mouth, reading the heading on the front page:
Mr. Nero: Greatest Vice-Principal and Violinist Ever.
By Geraldine Julienne.
Mr. Nero, the Vice-Principal of Profrock Preparatory school has been dubbed 'Greatest Vice principal and violinist ever.'
Every afternoon, Nero delights the students at Prufrock Prep to a concert, in which Nero plays the Violin.
Coach Genghis, the physical education teacher at the school says this:
"Nero is a remarkable man! He must be the greatest violinist of his time! Just as I am the greatest coach of my time!
He has only been at the school for two years, but Principal says that Nero runs the school better that himself.
Ever since Nero decided to be Vice-Principal, the quality of the school has gone up. He has hired teachers with knowledge of certain subjects, such as the metric system, and story telling. He has also set up a system of rules and boundaries, which ensures that the children do not get distracted, or get up to any mischief. Some comments of people from the area include:
"I like Nero's style, he's strict but classy."
"I like that Nero has agreed to let orphans come to the school, especially if they have a big fortune."
"Nero si live, esaelp pleh em! L."
Mr. Remora dropped the paper, he would have thrown it down, but he was too hot and languid to bother.
"Stupid Nero, my salary can't buy me bananas! Figuratively speaking…"
He heard a mumble from the kitchen.
"What was that dear? I think I'm going deaf from Nero's sonatas."
A woman came in from the kitchen.
"I said, that Nero isn't that bad, you just haven't got over the fact that Nero won the Violin of France Dance."
"Yes I have! I don't care if he won! And you would think he was bad too if you had to work all day with him, and listed to his recitals for SIX HOURS!" Mr. Remora sighed. "Now I'm all worked up and grumpy. Would you be a dear and fetch me a banana?"
Now the woman sighed.
"No, you just ate the last one, if you want more, then you'll have to go down to the store yourself and buy some."
Mr. Remora sighed again.
"Oh all right."
He stood up, found his car keys and moustache, and then he headed out the door.
"Could you get some milk while you're at it?
Robert remora just grunted.
Mr. Remora pulled up at the small shopping centre, and walked inside.
He let out a sigh of relief; it was so nice and cool inside.
He walked to the fruit isle, and picked up three bunches of bananas, then he walked over to the refrigerators and took out a carton of milk.
There were two pale-faced ladies standing near the fridge looking over a newspaper, and Mr. Remora happened to hear some of their conversation.
"Those Baudelaire brats are going to Prufrock!"
"We have to tell Olaf."
"It's going to be easy this time, no real guardians!"
They noticed Mr. Remora staring at them with a puzzled look on his face, and quickly walked out of the store.
Mr. Remora shrugged,
and went to pay for the milk and bananas.
He let out a shriek,
and dropped everything.
"L! What are you doing here?"
The man behind the counter put his finger to his lips.
"Shhh! I don't want to get found!"
"Don't want to get found! I've found you! And why shouldn't I turn you into the police right now?"
"Can't you help out an old friend R? I'm looking for the Baudelaires."
"Old friend! Old friend! You betrayed me!"
"I had no other choice! And you were volatile!"
"Volatile! Maybe I still am Volatile! Don't be surprised if the police show up here! And I do not care one bit for those Baudelaires!"
And with that, Mr. Remora picked up the bananas and milk, and stormed out of the store into the hot sun without paying.
"Volatile! Volatile! After all the things I've done for him!"
He pulled up at his house, hopped out of the car, and slammed the door. He was still mumbling words like "Volatile!" and "Old friend!" when he walked into the house.
"What was that dear?" Asked the woman.
Mr. Remora sighed.
"Nothing dear."
He put the bananas in the refrigerator, after he tore one from a bunch, and poured himself a glass of milk. He was very hot and worked up after his argument with L, and he needed to cool down. He drank his milk, and then he took his banana, sat down with the woman in the lounge room, and watched the news.
Tonight's news; Lucky Smells Lumber mill could be closing down due to three children…