Post by cwm3 on Jul 30, 2003 12:15:13 GMT -5
The sharpened knife was passed around the circle of those still alive--Esme, the white-faced woman, and the double-agent, Poe--yet again. The children knew that they were playing for time, before one of the six orphans went mad with fear. Quigley's clothes were disintergrating fast. The four parents were struggling with their tight bonds. Esme went over, and took the necktie that Jerome had used in his deaththroes to strangle Olaf to death off the tattoed corpse. Justice Strauss continued to rattle away at the telegram machine, sending a letter that the eight Bauldelaire-Quagmire arsonist-murders, six children and two adults, had been found at 666 Dark Avenue, and would somebody please send a big policeman around before they got away?
"So," said Esme. "So."
She smiled a purely venemous smile.
Behind her, Mr Poe brandished the hilt of the knife.
He falsely lunged briefly--and that was just enough time for Sunny to bite deep into his leg. He screamed, dropped the dinner blade's hilt, and allowed it to go clattering to the floor. Seconds later, it was obscured by most of his body. A small trickle of blood began to seep from what everybody rightly guessed to be from beneath his nose.
Justice Strauss had nearly finished her telegram. Whipping up the knife, Quigley dashed through his and the Bauldelaires' parents' string bonds. He then dashed at at Justice Strauss, but instead of killing her, he attacked the telegram machine, shattering it to pieces. Esme screamed at the failure of her--the late Count Olaf's, rather--plan, and keeled over, her face green; she had had either a heart attack or a stroke, or both. The white-faced woman attacked a glass display case on the southern wall, and allowed the velvet and its contents of dangerous weapons to spill out. Picking up a still-loaded blunderbuss, she took straight aim at the corner of the roof of the dungeon-like room. Everybody ducked. Even Poe, his face badly in need of bandages, rolled away, leaving a spattering trail of red. Then, the roof collapsed, leaving everybody buried solidly, and there seemed to be not one survivior.
What seemed to be years later, Violet struggled with the uppermost rock. She dusted herself off, then looked around. She feared that Klaus, Sunny, Duncan, Isadora, Quigley and the two sets of orphan's parents hadn't made it. One thing was for sure, Esme was long gone. Violet had seen a pointy rock headed directly for her. A grunting sound met her ears. She looked down, and saw Sunny and Klaus making their way up. They all then, thankfully and unthankfully, saw the powder-faced woman drag herself up, still holding the almost-fully-loaded gun with her. Taking aim once, she fired at the orphans.
A week later, Klaus Bauldelaire's funeral was held. The only surviviors of the cave-in were the Quagmire family, Mrs. Bauldelaire, Sunny and Violet. Or so it seemed.
Far, far, away, a newspaper was blowing away, across the ocean, and you could make out the obituary of one 'C. Bauldlair'. A red pen note paperclipped to it read; 'Totally inaccurate is the Daily Punctilito yet again--sloppy spelling, and--I AM NOT DEAD!'
Perhaps what had happened would be useful at this point. The Quagmires (Plus Quigley) and Bauldelaires' parents, thought to be dead, had found that two double agents (Justice Strauss and Mr Poe) had betrayed them, and they had rushed to their aid. The rest you know--Jerome had arrived, strangled Count Olaf with his necktie, got stabbed, and Olaf was killed. Strauss had, meanwhile, attempted to type out a telegram, but now the telegram machine was no more than a smashed machine that had been stabbed repeatedly. Esme had had a stroke upon seeing her great plan. (Olaf's, rather--she was just taking the credit) The white-faced lady had shot the room down. Violet and the orphans thought themselves the only survivors. In reality, though, the white-faced lady had only managed to skim Klaus's elbow. He had collapsed fakely. In the end, Klaus had run off to catch the 5:43 to Lake Lachrymose, in an attempt to never show his face again. Of course, the second shooting had bought a whole layer of rubble down, as the good people survived. The powder-faced lady had unintentionally commited suicide. If there had been any hope of Esme being alive, even after having a stroke and nearly a heart attack, and being almost crushed, there wasn't now. Poe had slammed himself into the door when the second rocky hail had come down, causing himself to be showered and stabbed to death when it came. The white-powdered lady had been slammed back into the floor. Justice Strauss had been clocked on the head with the typewriter's sharper parts and left to bleed. The owner of the house had gone into his weapon collection room to discover it ruined. The alive ones were, by then, long gone. And that is how we start our story;...
"So," said Esme. "So."
She smiled a purely venemous smile.
Behind her, Mr Poe brandished the hilt of the knife.
He falsely lunged briefly--and that was just enough time for Sunny to bite deep into his leg. He screamed, dropped the dinner blade's hilt, and allowed it to go clattering to the floor. Seconds later, it was obscured by most of his body. A small trickle of blood began to seep from what everybody rightly guessed to be from beneath his nose.
Justice Strauss had nearly finished her telegram. Whipping up the knife, Quigley dashed through his and the Bauldelaires' parents' string bonds. He then dashed at at Justice Strauss, but instead of killing her, he attacked the telegram machine, shattering it to pieces. Esme screamed at the failure of her--the late Count Olaf's, rather--plan, and keeled over, her face green; she had had either a heart attack or a stroke, or both. The white-faced woman attacked a glass display case on the southern wall, and allowed the velvet and its contents of dangerous weapons to spill out. Picking up a still-loaded blunderbuss, she took straight aim at the corner of the roof of the dungeon-like room. Everybody ducked. Even Poe, his face badly in need of bandages, rolled away, leaving a spattering trail of red. Then, the roof collapsed, leaving everybody buried solidly, and there seemed to be not one survivior.
What seemed to be years later, Violet struggled with the uppermost rock. She dusted herself off, then looked around. She feared that Klaus, Sunny, Duncan, Isadora, Quigley and the two sets of orphan's parents hadn't made it. One thing was for sure, Esme was long gone. Violet had seen a pointy rock headed directly for her. A grunting sound met her ears. She looked down, and saw Sunny and Klaus making their way up. They all then, thankfully and unthankfully, saw the powder-faced woman drag herself up, still holding the almost-fully-loaded gun with her. Taking aim once, she fired at the orphans.
A week later, Klaus Bauldelaire's funeral was held. The only surviviors of the cave-in were the Quagmire family, Mrs. Bauldelaire, Sunny and Violet. Or so it seemed.
Far, far, away, a newspaper was blowing away, across the ocean, and you could make out the obituary of one 'C. Bauldlair'. A red pen note paperclipped to it read; 'Totally inaccurate is the Daily Punctilito yet again--sloppy spelling, and--I AM NOT DEAD!'
Perhaps what had happened would be useful at this point. The Quagmires (Plus Quigley) and Bauldelaires' parents, thought to be dead, had found that two double agents (Justice Strauss and Mr Poe) had betrayed them, and they had rushed to their aid. The rest you know--Jerome had arrived, strangled Count Olaf with his necktie, got stabbed, and Olaf was killed. Strauss had, meanwhile, attempted to type out a telegram, but now the telegram machine was no more than a smashed machine that had been stabbed repeatedly. Esme had had a stroke upon seeing her great plan. (Olaf's, rather--she was just taking the credit) The white-faced lady had shot the room down. Violet and the orphans thought themselves the only survivors. In reality, though, the white-faced lady had only managed to skim Klaus's elbow. He had collapsed fakely. In the end, Klaus had run off to catch the 5:43 to Lake Lachrymose, in an attempt to never show his face again. Of course, the second shooting had bought a whole layer of rubble down, as the good people survived. The powder-faced lady had unintentionally commited suicide. If there had been any hope of Esme being alive, even after having a stroke and nearly a heart attack, and being almost crushed, there wasn't now. Poe had slammed himself into the door when the second rocky hail had come down, causing himself to be showered and stabbed to death when it came. The white-powdered lady had been slammed back into the floor. Justice Strauss had been clocked on the head with the typewriter's sharper parts and left to bleed. The owner of the house had gone into his weapon collection room to discover it ruined. The alive ones were, by then, long gone. And that is how we start our story;...