Kamikaze
Bewildered Beginner
The Ministry of Silly Walks
Posts: 9
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Post by Kamikaze on Feb 8, 2004 19:17:28 GMT -5
I am writting a story. It will take place before The Austere Acadamy. Don't expect anything to great, as I am only an amature.
Here is a preview:
To my kind editor,
I am currently writing this from the top floor of the Affreux Loja, where the Baudelaire orphans, I am sorry to say, were forced to live with Claude Bonaparte. Run two blocks down the street. When you get to the fourth house on Terrível Drive, run inside it and ask the old man if you can see his library. Do not go the library, but to the computer room. Open up the e-mail system and type for the username “Weasels” and for the password “Chasm”. In the inbox you should find two e-mails: one being my retelling of one of the most dreadful chapters in the Baudelaire orphan’s lives, titled THE SICKINING SUPERMARKET. The other has images of a French beret, Daisy Jones, a cash register, and perfume. This e-mail should be forwarded to Mr. Helquist. Remember, you are my last chance that the tales of the Baudelaire orphans can be told to the general public.
With all due respect,
Lemony Snicket
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Post by VFDeye on Feb 8, 2004 23:23:32 GMT -5
That's really good. I can't wait til the rest comes. Keep it up.
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Post by DetectiveDupin on Feb 9, 2004 11:10:43 GMT -5
Wow...I'm gonna keep reading this.
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Post by badlee on Feb 9, 2004 13:03:02 GMT -5
Sounds good. You never know what can happen in a Supermarket.
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Post by DetectiveDupin on Feb 9, 2004 13:32:07 GMT -5
Olaf might steal ONE WHOLE GRAPE!
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Post by badlee on Feb 9, 2004 15:02:17 GMT -5
lol. Esme might go crazy and ride around on the trolley. Violet might sit in the baby seat. Klaus could juggle apples, and Sunny mistaken for a watermelon.
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Kamikaze
Bewildered Beginner
The Ministry of Silly Walks
Posts: 9
|
Post by Kamikaze on Feb 9, 2004 18:15:29 GMT -5
I have a friend named Sam. Sam is a very good acquaintance of mine that likes disguises. Every Tuesday he visits me with a different disguise for me to wear so I can slip out of my jail cell without being recognized. Then I can stay out as long as I want without being recognized. The only rule is that I have to back in jail by 6:32. On these nights, I often like to watch Shakespearean plays. My favorite is MacBeth, and I have seen it around twenty-three times so far. It is a wonderful performance. But there is only one thing that can spoil it: bad acting. I can be seeing the best play in the world, but if the acting is bad, then it will be just as exciting as watching grass grow. If somebody were to put on a play about the lives of the Baudelaire Orphans, then it would have horrible acting. Nobody could possibly feel how bad the orphans have felt during their lives, unless they lived in a huge mansion that was completely burnt down and they were the survivors and were constantly stalked by a cruel and vicious man with one eyebrow and a tattoo of an eye on his ankle that wanted to steal an enormous fortune, and according to my research, the only people that have had this problem are Violet, a 14 year old girl that loved to think of inventions, Klaus, a 13 year old that has read more books then most adults, and Sunny, an infant with four very sharp teeth she used to bite things. And as they were siting in the car driven by Mr. Poe, a kind hearted man that was supposed to be taking care of the three orphans but hadn’t been doing a very good job, each Baudelaire had a pit in their stomach as they waited to meet their new guardian. Violet wondered if there would be any tools for inventing things. Klaus wondered if there would be any interesting books to read. Sunny wondered if there would be any hard things to bite. But alas, all the other places they have gone had given them misery and woe, and they had the feeling their new home would not be any better. “You have not told us anything about our new guardian yet, Mr. Poe,” Violet asked, breaking the long and disturbing silence. “What is he like?” Mr. Poe coughed into his handkerchief. “Oh, you will just love Mr. Bonaparte!” He exclaimed. “He owns a small grocery store known as the Affreux Loja. He was very,”-and here Mr. Poe coughed into his handkerchief-“brief with me on the phone, but I can assure you he will be very good to you. He lives in his store.” “He sounds fascinating,” Klaus said. “I wonder if he has a library.” “Okkjook!” Sunny shrieked. Like most infants, Sunny spoke in words that were very confusing to understand. By “Okkjook!” she probably meant something like “Or things to bite.” “Maybe,” Mr. Poe said. “Well, I’m going to drop you off here. I have an important meeting at Mulctuary Money Management.” “But you haven’t told us where we are to live!” Violet said. Mr. Poe coughed. “I told you will be living in the Affreux Loja. Now out. I hope you have a good time with Claude.” So the children sadly stepped out of the car with only their suitcases of their few possesions and the clothes on their back, as they watched the black automobile drive away. The orphans observed the area around them. The town was full of buildings and houses, but most of them were boarded up or closed. The only signs of life were a few trees and a man walking his dog. Occasionally a car would pass by. The Baudelaires had no time to waste time. They quickly started looking for the Affreux Loja. The town, which appeared to be called Connoquenessing, after looking at many signs, was much larger then it appeared to be. After a long and exhausting time of looking, they finally found a small blue building, with a large banner on the outside, which read “Affreux Loja”. “Lobabill,” Sunny said quietly, which meant something like “This must be the place.” The orphans could have opened the door right then and there, but they didn’t. They had been through many doors in their lives, and ever since that sad, sad day at Briney Beach, many of those doors have lead to horrible things. Yet there was no other place to go. As a small tear rolled down her cheek, Violet opened the door. The store was very small. The Baudelaires could see a few allies, but not much else. The walls were white. On the far end of the store was a deli. The only signs of life were a very old man in a wheel chair, and a tall, slightly overweight woman with a blonde ponytail, who appeared to be a cashier. Her name was Cindy, and the orphans knew this from reading the nametag that was pinned to her shirt, which said “Hi, I’m Cindy.” The nametag did not literally say anything. The words printed on it made out the phrase “Hi, I’m Cindy.” “Excuse me,” Klaus said as he approached the Cindy. “I am Klaus, and these are my two sisters, Violet and Sunny. We are here to see Mr. Bonaparte, our new caretaker. Can you please show us where to go?” Cindy sighed. “Oh,” she said grimly. “You must be the orphans. Claude has been expecting you. Walk a little to the left and open the door, which says MANAGER’S OFFICE. That is where he lives.” “Tank,” Sunny said, which appeared to mean “Thank you.” The three Baudelaires opened the door and walked up a short red staircase. They then came to another door and opened it. Behind that door was a small room, about the size of the prison cell I am writing this down from. There were a few furnishings, such as a couch, lamp, TV, and coffee table. There were also five doors visible. But the strange thing was nobody was there to greet the orphans. It was felt as if they were in the inside of a stone that hadn’t been moved for years. Finally, the children heard a voice. “Wat ez zat, Zinthia?” The voice said. It was a French accent, and it appeared to be coming from one of the doors. “The Boodelaires ah here? Ah, good! Ziz iz ze momeent I have bean wayting for!”
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Post by badlee on Feb 10, 2004 13:53:47 GMT -5
Woah, encore! Write more, I wanna know what Claude is like! *pokes Kamikaze*
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Post by shiningkira on Feb 10, 2004 20:06:20 GMT -5
its pretty cool so far. go on
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