Chapter 2

During breakfast the next morning, Kit and Bertrand were arguing which teacher was the worst, Professor McCartney or Mr. Houston.

A small girl with a sneer on her face came over to the table. She slammed her hands down and asked, "Who's Snicket at this table."

"We are." Jacques slowly told her.

"Well, the Vice Principal wants to talk to you." She said. "Now where's my tip?"

"Camilla, go away." A red haired girl said to Camilla. The red haired girl was much taller than Camilla was so she had to bend down slightly to snap at her. "Nobody is ever going to give you a tip, so just leave."

"At least I'm not a poor orphan." Camilla told her and flounced away.

"What was that about?" I asked to nobody in particular.

"Thanks," Kit said to the red haired girl. "Would you like to sit?"

"Yes, sure." The girl said. "I'm Tuesday Caliban. My brother is Thursday. He'll be here in a second."

Sure enough a red haired boy sat down at the table with the Snicket's and Baudelaire's.

"What do you think she meant?" Jacques asked quietly.

"I don't know." Joelle said, "Let's all go and see."

"Wait!" Thursday said. "They got a new Vice Principal. And I heard he's crazy. If you go up to the office building, he'll take away your silverware at meals."

"Mofhia." Stella said, which meant, That's completely idiotic.

"I'm sure he'll let you three off," Tuesday gestured to the me and my siblings, "But unless you three don't want silverware, you should stay here."

"They're right." Bertrand said. "We'll see you at class."

Kit, Jacques and I headed over to the main office building. Once we were right outside the doorway to the Vice Principal's door, they heard a wretched sound.

Apparently somebody was insisting on playing the piano, even though his or her talents obviously lay somewhere else. It sounded as if the person playing had sausages for fingers, and while hitting each key; they hid the ones around it instead. We had no idea what they were playing because it sounded like a two year old slamming on the piano.

I slowly placed my hand on the doorknob, and turned it. It opened to show a small, cramped office. On one side there was an old beat up, upright piano. On the other side was a desk, with a computer and a chair.

All of the sudden the man sitting at the piano slammed his hands on the piano, and it didn't sound that much different than his playing. "Who dares to interrupt a musical genius? I am Vice Principal Nero, the most talented man in the world!"

"Its Jacques, Lemony and Kit Snicket. You told us to come here." Kit said.

"Its Jacques, Lemony and Kit Snicket. You told us to come here," Nero mimicked. "I don't have all day."

"Well?" I said, after a long awkward pause.

"Well, Snicket's, I got a telegram this morning." Nero said.

"What was it about?" Jacques asked.

"What was it about?" Nero mimicked again. "I was just getting to that part! But since you obviously don't want to listen to me, here is the telegram." Nero went back to his piano, and senselessly hammered on whatever keys felt good at the time.

"Usted es un moron frío, despiadado que es un jugador horrible del piano." Jacques said in Spanish, which basicly translates into, you are a cold, heartless moron who is a horrible piano player. Normally, Jacques would never say that, but in Spanish it sounded very pretty, and not very mean at all.

"Blah, blah blah." Nero said, obviously not knowing what Jacques said.

Kit read the letter. "To the Snicket children, Kit, Jacques and Lemony. There had been a terrible series of unfortunate events STOP. Your house has been burnt down to the ground STOP. Valuables were stolen while the house was burning STOP. The firemen could not save your parents STOP. I'm sorry to deliver this news, and the funeral is scheduled next week on the 13tth. STOP. Please accept my greatest sympathies STOP. From Laurette Henderson, Vice Principal in Charge of Orphan Affairs STOP."

Kit stopped, trying to hold back her tears, she said, "Thank you Vice Principal Nero." She said shakily, and with that she grabbed Jacques and my arms and left the room.

We ran back to our dorm rooms, and Kit threw herself onto the couch sobbing. Jacques went over to comfort her.

I just sat on the couch, basically in shock. I could not believe, just yesterday we were saying goodbye to them. And now, they are gone.

Now I know exactly how Beatrice feels like.