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Post by Reba on Oct 22, 2017 15:57:33 GMT -5
The second day was difficult for Abe, ‘cause he did not know what was going on. “I miss my wife,” he said. “She’s such a babe; Her name is Mary Todd.—Get off my lawn!”
So Satan had no choice. He searched about And chose to bring in William Jennings Bryan Instead. But Bryan had his doubts— He’d been assassinated by the Zion
Society Of Jews For Atheism A few days after he had won the trial Of Scopes and Tennessee. And now a schism Had formed inside his mind: was he so vile,
In Hell, because he was a lawyer fraud? Had he deserved to perish by the hand Of those pro-Israel and anti-God Assassins? If he took another grand
Case on his shoulders, like this one with Snicket, What other horrors could befall him at The end of it? Perhaps a one-way ticket To Deeper Hell, for all he knew. With that,
However, being said, there also was A chance that this could put him in high standing With Him, the Prince of Darkness—get some buzz Around his name down here, improve his branding,
And maybe all eternity in Hell Would not be such an awful time for him. And so he stood and gave orations. “Well,” He started out, “My memory is dim,
But I can’t quite recall, in my time, any passes For sinners being handed out for free… Ya do the thing just once! And, lads and lasses, Well, that’s enough to make God M-A-D…”
“Alright, cut back your tone,” sighed Satan. “You Will waste more time than Snicket has already. I tell you what, we both know what to do To beat this Snicket guy and keep Hell steady,
So let’s not stall this anymore. Go get All that incriminating evidence We found while searching on the Internet. When Snicket sees it, it will all make sense
And he will have no choice but pleading guilty. I’ll keep my subject ‘neath the Devil’s crown. However much of that gross stuff, gefilte Fish, that the Jews are always scarfing down,
Or matzah balls or kugel or knishes, He ate, it just does not make up for when He put a bit of shellfish on his dishes And then committed such a ghastly sin.
So roll the slides! Unleash the beast! Show how He sure deserves to suckle Satan’s pap For all eternity—then take a bow… Man, after this I’m ready for a nap.”
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Post by Reba on Oct 23, 2017 16:35:16 GMT -5
The third day was a mess for ol’ LS. That guy Beelzebub was really right About the dirt he had beneath his dress, But Snicket wouldn’t quit without a fight.
At first he watched the evidence brought out: “Exhibit one,” said Bryan, and he showed A lobster pic, the watermark blurred out. A lobster suit, undoubtedly hand-sewed,
Was then put on a minion, and the guy Was made to dance around in some charade. Another of the damned came out, and then he tried To join by putting on a suit he made
That looked a little like a sendup of An Ashkenazi Jew. The two were chasing Each other now, all miming push and shoves, And shouting things like “Both of us are racing
To see who lands in boiling water first!” And then the Jew would yell “I know forbidden Is this delicious creature that I thirst For, but, my feelings being no more hidden,
I’ll say outright that I want its white meat!” The man inside the lobster costume screamed And ran in circles. “No, pretty please, don’t eat My flesh that’s almond-pale! Or white like cream
Whenever you take off the burnt red shell, Like Snicket did, and hey, remember how He got allergic, died, and went to Hell Because he wanted some illegal chow?”
“I do remember,” said the mocking Jew, Then honked his giant nose. “And since you mention The way he did that sin, by bite and chew Of crunchy ocean flesh—now, no more tension—
I just was gonna say we rest our case.” Well, that was something silly, but right after Monsieur Bill Bryan waved them from their place, The evidence that came cut out all laughter.
“Exhibit two!” he bellowed. Gasps were fillin’ The courtroom. On the screen was something ghastly: An illustration crude, of two young chillen’, One female and one male, tweens likely. Lastly,
The girl had her legs both wrapped around The boy’s inviting lap. A bit of porn? No matter. This here subject was unsound, For sure. Now, how could this thing have been born?
“I know what you are thinking. Who’s to blame For child porn like this? The illustrator?” Said Bryan. “Oh, no. It is the one whose name Is source of inspiration: the creator
Of several books for teens and children, whence These characters have come. Now, some belong To ‘Series Of Unfortunate Events,’ While others are entitled ‘All the Wrong—’”
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Post by Reba on Oct 24, 2017 16:27:36 GMT -5
“Just stop! Just stop!” cried Lemony in fear. “Are you insinuating something awful About the proper reason I am here? My fans were bad, but surely it is lawful
To chronicle the lives of three poor orphans! It’s not my fault what people do to get Their juices flowing—free a few endorphins— Within the private confines of the Net!”
“No way, Fay Wray, you’re not a-getting outta This trick we made especially for you,” Said Satan. “Now, I know your book’s about a Young trio who are really going through
A tough time in their lives; they’re quite mature, And even though a certain one is only An infant, somehow they learn to endure Their desperate lives, and being sad and lonely.
Were you aware that one of the most crucial Peculiarities of someone who Is hot for kids, that is, likes the preputial Amount of skin to still be firmly glued
Upon the glans, you know—at least, he likes A guy or gal before the hair comes in— Er, anyway, you know how many strikes, Analysis of children that’s akin
To some of yours, in all those books—how many Offending strikes you go through, when you write About the kids as if they’re really twenty, Or thirty, see, as if they’ve reached full height?
Those kids are not the same, you pedophilic Abomination! Look at all these people Who fell in love with your whole idyllic Reality where children are all equal
To grown-ups, not just in those matters you So like to harp on, intellectual And all that, but in darker matters too, You know, the ones you might call sexual.
And now you see the reason why you’re here; Although the lobster thing was sure a sin, It wasn’t big. You could have got off clear With that one, but Hashem would do me in
If I were so audacious as to stop A man from getting trial when requested Upon his death. But how I hate to drop My busy workload all for some invested
Buffoon determined not to stay in Hades. Of course I tricked you!—You completely wasted Your chance to build a case.—Of course I’m shady! Dishonesty down here’s the worst you’ve tasted,
Just as I hope should be apparent when You hear that you have landed by my side. Now pick yourself all up and try to grin As you continue punishment—don’t cry…”
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Post by Reba on Oct 25, 2017 15:30:34 GMT -5
As Snicket curled up in some far corner, The exhibition carefully proceeded. “Take note, exhibit three is from a porner,” Said Bryan. “Meaning, somebody who needed
Some nasty porn to get themselves excited, And so they made their own. See for yourself! Because of children’s books that Snicket writed, These images exist. The ‘Littlest Elf,’
Completely nude, is even in the mix. Let’s focus on a drawing of a gal Who’s underage and on the beach. There’s pics Of her in small bikinis, like SoCal
Suntanning babes more so than character In children’s story. And exhibit four: A pic to drive you to hysterics. Her Visage has been transplanted, and what’s more,
In Photoshop, it’s been combined with that Abomination fan art that we saw In first exhibit. Like a pervy hat Or mask, the Moxie face—though slightly flawed
In composition, if you ask my thoughts— Was put atop the heads of younger Snicket And Ellington. Now, I thought there were lots Of easier and simpler ways to dick it,
That is, to pleasure self with something sexy. Apparently, however, this is how The kids these days perform. You really vex me, O Lem’ny Snicket, sitting down here now
With total understanding of your actions. And boy, just standing here and having to See all the nasty pics and see reactions From innocent young demons round here, who
Most certainly have not confronted such A subject in their lives before, though they’re In Hell, of course. It makes me sick! You touch A mood in me that’s too irate to bear.”
“I’m so ashamed,” said Snicket, “And I’d say That all this makes me want to die, but then I just remembered I’m already prey To that phenomenon. I’ll just ask when
I get to have my counterargument.” “Your counter what?” the Devil said. “You fool! There’s nothing down here crafted, set in print, That gives, for afterlife court cases, rules.
I make them up spontaneously, and I hereby state that I am quite convinced By Jennings Bryan’s faculty to stand Against this pedophile—Evidence
Abounds, at least enough that if ol’ God Should check on me whenever he’s concerned, He might be satisfied when making broad Assessments of my files. Court adjourned!”
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Post by Reba on Oct 26, 2017 17:06:54 GMT -5
But at that moment, there was quite a rumble And up above the court, the ceiling cracked. Earth’s bottom (Hades’ top) began to crumble And everyone beneath the space all backed
Way up. “What’s this?” roared Satan. And a light Was creeping through the crack and into Hell. “AAaaaah aaaah aaah aah!” the Devil cried in fright. “The light will make me so gosh-darn unwell!
The last time light made contact with my skin Was many thousand years ago. O, pity!” While Satan whined, the crack expanded; then Some noises came, a pretty little ditty
With harmonies and soft, angelic voices. And look: the song was actually intoned By angels, all descending. Much rejoices Were coming from LS. He rocked and moaned
Like Jews will pray upon the end of hard luck. “Explain yourself!” said angry Satan after The angels reached the ground. And Snicket, starstruck, Rushed forward to the angels, but thereafter,
He shrank away in great confusion. This Was not a normal group of angels, for, Instead of that expression of great bliss You might expect upon the face of your
Divine emancipator come from Heaven, LS came face to face with Daniel Handler, His representative. And there were seven More. LS wished that he was Raymond Chandler
So he could figure out this mystery Of impostors of—angels? DH? Both? Of course, there was a troubled history Between DH and him. But that old oath
That formed between them long ago, entailing Their plans to not be seen in any rooms Together—that was sacred. So, the failing Of this agreement was a blow. His doom,
The doom of Snicket, he now felt was quite Assured by this unfortunate event. “Calm down, my friend, just quit your fright,” Said one of the DHes. “We are sent
From God above, to save you from this world. Believe it if you can: all angels look Like us, for Daniel Handler’s name was hurled Into a raffle years ago; God shook
The box of names, and out came Daniel. And so he’s chosen as ideal face form For when we interact with humans. Granule Of salt, of course, required for this norm,
But that’s how God decided. Anyway, We Heaven-goers have a special place In our collective hearts for you and bae, So we will your sins partially erase.”
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Post by Reba on Oct 27, 2017 13:58:37 GMT -5
“Don’t make me laugh,” said Satan. “I remember This foolish name; this ‘Daniel Handler.’ He’s Quite famous here in Hell. Bids to dismember His porky form when he arrives, and squeeze
His fatty head—they’re through the roof. And I Myself have placed a couple greenbacks on The table for it. Now, just tell me why A drunken pedophile who’s surely gone
Upon the list of soon inhabitants Of Hell, gets some free pass from fans upstairs? I’m sure you know he has no sabbath sense. His porno book for teens? Does no one care
About that travesty in Heaven, either? And what about the time he made a gaffe Whiling hosting some awards show? ‘Take a breather, You’re getting kind of drunk, now don’t be daft
And make a racist joke on nationwide TV,’ said the producer while backstage. But he ignored completely this wise chide And stumbled out like someone twice his age,
Or someone very tipsy—pinky-faced And bursting with his racist little giggles. O, what a night! When we heard, we all raced To turn on our TV down here. Gray squiggles
Were over all the image, ‘cause we got Real bad reception down in Hell, but still We saw the whole debacle, and it taught The little demons here a lesson: till
The last man learns to hide from outside evils, Like alcohol or YA lit, we’ll always Be busy filling human butts with weevils Or ripping off their fingernails, or all these
Assorted other tortures that we use. They never learn! A man as innocent As Handler will still have to pay his dues With us. O yes, he’ll certainly be sent
To Hell when he decides to kick the bucket. So what’s th’excuse that angels and their God Will give for these chaotic morals? ‘Suck it,’ Perhaps? ‘Just mind your business?’ Or, ‘Don’t prod?’”
The Daniels rolled their eyes. “You’re right,” they said. “A stupid devil couldn’t understand Our work at all. He hasn’t got a head For afterlife bureaucracy. We’ve planned
Solutions for this sticky situation That, might we say, consist of more than just A pitchfork up a butt and plain damnation. No, angels have a vaguer duty. Trust
Our higher judgment and authority. We’ll just be taking Snicket now, that is Our first and only real priority. We have an afterlife that’s rightful his.”
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Post by Reba on Oct 28, 2017 14:02:51 GMT -5
So Snicket linked his arms with two close Handlers. The entourage entire floated back, And Satan pleaded after like panhandlers As everyone ascended through the crack
In Hades’ top (and bottom of the Earth). When Lemony emerged, he looked around And put on pause his soon-expected mirth, For there about the entrance, he had found
A scene like one he wrote about in one Installment of his children’s series. It Looked just like Klaus and Sunny’s burnt mansion, And Violet’s too—a charred and ashy pit
Not quite unlike the one he just had left. And when he looked to see where he was standing, It was a trapdoor. Snicket was bereft Of hope. “What’s this suspicious earthly landing?”
He moaned. “I thought that I was finally free, But here I am, the house of Baudelaires, Or some meticulous facsimile. I thought that when I finally came upstairs
From that horrific place with Lucifer, I’d be in paradise. That’s sure not here! So what’s the jig? You want me to suffer In other ways than readily appear
In Hell? The punishment was just too simple For you sadistic creeps? Sure, I admit it! The arson of this former ‘safe place’—temple For members of the VFD—I did it!
Of course I didn’t ever have the gall To treat Ms. Beatrice with honor and Forgive her when she gave me ice-blue balls By throwing out my offered wedding band…”
“Wait, hold your horses, what the hell are you Confessing to?” cut in an angel, shaken. “That isn’t why we brought you here, but new Conditions seem to have arisen, taken
Our plans upon a different path.” “Oh, no!” Cried Snicket. “Er, I think you must have heard My words wrong. I was putting on a show And making all that up. You know, absurd,
Theatrical soliloquies have always Been something I’ve enjoyed. So, why have I Been brought here in reality? You all tease Me with the answer far too long. You’re sly,
I’ll give you that!” But they were not convinced. One said, “We never said we’d bring you high To Heaven with us. We were just against The treatment you were getting from that guy,
Ol’ rotten Satan. Yes, his conduct was All wrong, and in a general way he’s vile. But still, we must admit your past sure does Look shady. So, we’ll run a proper trial!”
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Post by Reba on Oct 29, 2017 14:00:02 GMT -5
At once the angels got involved, in action. With angel powers, from the ground erupted Some courtroom structures—bureaus—and a faction Erected bleachers round them. “Uncorrupted
Is how we want our trial to perform, In contrast to the heinous way they acted In Hell,” an angel said. “One-woman storm Judge Judy has been carefully extracted
From all the judges fit to serve our purpose, Amongst the best that humans had to offer. This time the trial will not be a circus. Judge Judy’s potent; no, you couldn’t quaff her
If something happened where she was a spirit, An alcoholic beverage, not a ghost. We’ve got a crowd now, too; say, can you hear it?” And Snicket looked around to see the most
Enormous crowd of people he had seen In his whole life. They roared from bleachers stretching A hundred miles back. “Where have they been?” Cried Snicket. “Where’d they come from? Were you fetching
All them in just the time that you were speaking To me?” And several angels had a laugh. “We called Big Ole Trials, there’s no sneaking Involved,” one said. “Wait, shouldn’t that fill half
An iamb, that one word that you just used?” Asked Snicket. “O-L-E, you used a trochee For that word. Has the meter been abused?” “Of course it has, the whole damn meter’s botchy
Throughout this stupid poem. In this case, We did make some mistake, but not in saying Two syllables for ‘ole.’ We just placed The stress upon the first instead of laying
The stress upon the syllable succeeding. ‘Ole’ should be an iamb, just like that. It takes two syllables in general, reading The word, because it’s used by those guys at
The company of B.O.T. to mean ‘Olé,’ like football fans will always say When chanting for their team. Now, in our scene, We got so many spectators ‘cause they,
At B.O.T., transplanted crowds from sports From all ‘cross Europe, over here. It’s weird, But Judy really needed some support To judge this trial well. Don’t be afeared
Whenever all these simpletons start shouting ‘Olé, olé, olé, oléééé,’ when we Are in the midst of court routines. This outing Is much more fun for them than you, who be
A criminal on trial ‘gainst the Holy.” And at that moment, rowdy fans all stepped Out of their seats, like they had seen a goalie Act out a save. They roared, and Snicket wept.
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Post by Reba on Oct 30, 2017 14:59:58 GMT -5
The angels went to business. “First of all,” One said, “We won’t talk longer than we should. We only have one case to show your fall From grace, but boy, we think it’s pretty good.”
And Snicket could not handle all the teasin’. “Just blurt it out!” he shouted. In his mind, Himself he still considered, within reason, To be a decent person. Getting fined
By Satan for some moral issues wasn’t A thang but chicken wang to him; all that Discussion ‘bout the fan art—no, he mustn’t Be worried by that argument. It’s tat
Created by a trickster, nothing more. But angels sent from God! They wouldn’t try A cheap perspective on this case. They’d bore Deep down into his past and find out why
He really was a scoundrel. Not that he Had any clue himself. “Alright,” An angel said. “I think we can agree Defendant’s under pressure, time is tight,
So let’s get to it. Hangfire! That name Evoke a special feeling in you, Snicket? If mem’ry were your epidermis, aim ‘Hangfire’ at the skin and it would prick it.
Am I correct?” But Snicket got defensive. “I don’t have any clue what you are saying. Whoever’s him, I think that it’s offensive That you assume I acted in the slaying
Of him, those years ago.” “Snicket! Your breath Is reeking of pure guilt. We never made Assertions of involvement in his death. You have a guilty conscience; you’re afraid
Of punishment, we understand. But please, Stop making such of an idiotic fool of Yourself. I mean, we’re angels, geez Louise. When talking to us, I would say the rule of
Thumb is to think that we have every power That humans can imagine. So, of course We know you’re lying. Even if you glower At us all immaturely, we can force
The truth from somewhere deep inside your gut. You’re lucky that we do not have to follow That painful course; this case will finally shut By simply reading excerpts—hard to swallow
For us, who find your writing skills atrocious— From “All The Questions That Are Wrong,” or something; Whatever is the stuffy, braggadocious Sequential name ‘twas chosen for your dumb thing,
Your children’s series. All the scenes inside Those pages are supposed to be the truth, So you’ve already said the way he died. You blew away Hangfire in your youth!”
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Post by Reba on Oct 31, 2017 13:21:47 GMT -5
“So what?” said Snicket. “It was necessary. A giant beast was hungry, he was evil, And I was there, so then I chose to bury The whole commotion there. And an upheaval
Of power in that tiny town, Stain’d-by- The-sea, was certainly a favor to Its residents.” “How dare you act all high And mighty on this subject and eschew
A guilty attitude! The act of killing Is always sinful, even if the person You killed is also someone who is willing To do a sin. In fact, you really worsen
The situation when you rob the Lord Of chance to save the sinner.” Snicket sighed; He wasn’t keeping up, and he was bored With all these technicalities. “He died
Because of me, that much I will confess,” Said Lemony. “Ya happy? Now, Judge Judy, Just tell me what the verdict is. I guess I’m going back to Hell, but I’m too moody
At this point, and I cannot bring myself To care.” But then an angel interjected. “Judge Judy, ‘fore you put this on the shelf And go about your day, keep thoughts collected
For our sakes, please. And also, don’t forget The special choice you have that was told to you Before we hired you. That’s not a threat, It’s only a reminder. Peace is due you,
So take your time.” Then Judy contemplated. She stroked her chin. “Let’s see,” she mumbled. “Hmm. Before I choose where Lemony is fated To live for all eternity, I’m—Mmm…
That’s tasty! I’ll just—Yum!—I’ll have a piece Of cake, to clear my mind.—And chocolate frosting!” The angels gaped. “Good Lord, Judge Judy, release That pastry from your grasp. You know you’re costing
This whole ensemble lots of precious time?” “Okay, okay, I’ll send him to the hidden Location that you told me ‘bout.” “Wait, I’m Not going down to hell, but I’m forbidden
From Heaven too?” said Snicket in confusion. “That’s right,” an angel said. “You know the trapdoor You’re standing on? It’s something of a fusion Of two paths: down to Hell, but there’s a map for
The inner-city tunnels, too, I think You know about.” “Dark Avenue? A complex Of fancy flats?” “Yes, 667! Sink Down into that old tunnel, and by next
Dayspring, you’ll find yourself, well-timedly, at An elevator. Take it to your new Abode. Your fans will be there; you can chat About your books forevermore. Now, shoo!”
...
...
So LS lived in Snicket Purgatory. Bear/Bandit and the “Mince” who was picante Were partying in Heaven, but the story Was different for the others. Hermes, Dante, And other Snicket nerds were there, and so Were all the stupid dweebs who chanced upon The forum in some way that Snicket, though He tried to, couldn’t understand. Thereon, The fans at first were happy to be there With Lemony himself, but in confines With someone swollen round just like a pear, The living standard terribly declines. And here’s some words to make this thirteen lines.
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Post by Reba on Oct 31, 2017 13:29:31 GMT -5
happy halloween everyone. thanks for leaving me alone with quisby during that whole torturous journey.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 31, 2017 20:22:05 GMT -5
Dante got it wrong, the ninth circle is just me yelling my vaguely unhelpful thoughts at anyone who walks by
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Post by Marlowe on Jul 11, 2020 23:08:18 GMT -5
I'll chalk up the general lack of response to the work's deliberately tongue-in-cheek and salacious tone, which may leave some readers nonplussed. I don't mean that as criticism; I certainly can't remember another fanfic I've read that's quite like this. The creative impulse behind melding Handler's real-life controversies into the Averse is laudable - as is the Divine Comedy homage, the references to the entire body of Handler's work, the reveal of who started the Baudelaire fire, and of course bringing in 667 Dark Avenue itself as a punchline. This clearly took a lot of effort and ambition. Hats off.
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Post by counto on Aug 27, 2020 2:00:45 GMT -5
This reminds me a lot like The Devil vs Daniel Webster
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Post by R. on Nov 29, 2020 9:38:41 GMT -5
This is super weird but good. I wonder if Justice Strauss killed Lemony on purpose with that shellfish because she knew the truth?
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