A Series of Unfortunate Events Collection: Books 1-13 with Bonus Material

by Lemony Snicket

  But of course, everything was not all right. Everything was all wrong. As the first light of morning trickled into the tower room, Violet reflected on all the awful things she and her siblings had experienced recently. Their parents had died, suddenly and horribly. Mrs. Poe had bought them ugly clothing. They had moved into Count Olaf’s house and were treated terribly. Mr. Poe had refused to help them. They had discovered a fiendish plot involving marrying Violet and stealing the Baudelaire fortune. Klaus had tried to confront Olaf with knowledge he’d learned in Justice Strauss’s library and failed. Poor Sunny had been captured. And now, Violet had tried to rescue Sunny and found herself captured as well. All in all, the Baudelaire orphans had encountered catastrophe after catastrophe, and Violet found their situation lamentably deplorable, a phrase which here means “it was not at all enjoyable.”

  The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs brought Violet out of her thoughts, and soon the hook-handed man opened the door and thrust a very tired, confused, and scared Klaus into the room.

  “Here’s the last orphan,” the hook-handed man said. “And now, I must go help Count Olaf with final preparations for tonight’s performance. No monkey business, you two, or I will have to tie you up and let you dangle out of the window as well.” Glaring at them, he locked the door again and tromped downstairs.

  Klaus blinked and looked around the filthy room. He was still in his pajamas. “What has happened?” he asked Violet. “Why are we up here?”

  “I tried to rescue Sunny,” Violet said, “using an invention of mine to climb up the tower.”

  Klaus went over to the window and looked down at the ground. “It’s so high up,” he said. “You must have been terrified.”

  “It was very scary,” she admitted, “but not as scary as the thought of marrying Count Olaf.”

  “I’m sorry your invention didn’t work,” Klaus said sadly.

  “The invention worked fine,” Violet said, rubbing her sore shoulder. “I just got caught. And now we’re doomed. The hook-handed man said he’d keep us here until tonight, and then it’s The Marvelous Marriage.”

  “Do you think you could invent something that would help us escape?” Klaus asked, looking around the room.

  “Maybe,” Violet said. “And why don’t you go through those books and papers? Perhaps there’s some information that could be of use.”

  For the next few hours, Violet and Klaus searched the room and their own minds for anything that might help them. Violet looked for objects with which she could invent something. Klaus read through Count Olaf’s papers and books. From time to time, they would go over to Sunny and smile at her, and pat her head, to reassure her. Occasionally, Violet and Klaus would speak to each other, but mostly they were silent, lost in their own thoughts.

  “If we had any kerosene,” Violet said, around noon, “I could make Molotov cocktails with these bottles.”

  “What are Molotov cocktails?” Klaus asked.

  “They’re small bombs made inside bottles,” Violet explained. “We could throw them out the window and attract the attention of passersby.”

  “But we don’t have any kerosene,” Klaus said mournfully.

  They were silent for several hours.

  “If we were polygamists,” Klaus said, “Count Olaf’s marriage plan wouldn’t work.”

  “What are polygamists?” Violet asked.

  “Polygamists are people who marry more than one person,’” Klaus explained. “In this community, polygamists are breaking the law, even if they have married in the presence of a judge, with the statement of ‘I do’ and the signed document in their own hand. I read it here in Nuptial Law.”

  “But we’re not polygamists,” Violet said mournfully.

  They were silent for several more hours.

  “We could break these bottles in half,” Violet said, “and use them as knives, but I’m afraid that Count Olaf’s troupe would overpower us.”

  “You could say ‘I don’t’ instead of ‘I do,’” Klaus said, “but I’m afraid Count Olaf would order Sunny dropped off the tower.”

  “I certainly would,” Count Olaf said, and the children jumped. They had been so involved in their conversation that they hadn’t heard him come up the stairs and open the door. He was wearing a fancy suit and his eyebrow had been waxed so it looked as shiny as his eyes. Behind him stood the hook-handed man, who smiled and waved a hook at the youngsters. “Come, orphans,” Count Olaf said. “It is time for the big event. My associate here will stay behind in this room, and we will keep in constant contact through our walkie-talkies. If anything goes wrong during tonight’s performance, your sister will be dropped to her death. Come along now.”

  Violet and Klaus looked at each other, and then at Sunny, still dangling in her cage, and followed Count Olaf out the door. As Klaus walked down the tower stairs, he felt a heavy sinking in his heart as all hope left him. There truly seemed to be no way out of their predicament. Violet was feeling the same way, until she reached out with her right hand to grasp the banister, for balance. She looked at her right hand for a second, and began to think. All the way down the stairs, and out the door, and the short walk down the block to the theater, Violet thought and thought and thought, harder than she had in her entire life.

  CHAPTER

  Twelve

  As Violet and Klaus Baudelaire stood, still in their nightgown and pajamas, backstage at Count Olaf’s theater, they were of two minds, a phrase which here means “they felt two different ways at the same time.” On one hand, they were of course filled with dread. From the murmur of voices they heard on the stage, the two Baudelaire orphans could tell that the performance of The Marvelous Marriage had begun, and it seemed too late to do anything to foil Count Olaf’s plan. On the other hand, however, they were fascinated, as they had never been backstage at a theatrical production and there was so much to see. Members of Count Olaf’s theater troupe hurried this way and that, too busy to even glance at the children. Three very short men were carrying a large flat piece of wood, painted to look like a living room. The two white-faced women were arranging flowers in a vase that from far away appeared to be marble, but close up looked more like cardboard. An important-looking man with warts all over his face was adjusting enormous light fixtures. As the children peeked onstage, they could see Count Olaf, in his fancy suit, declaiming some lines from the play, just as the curtain came down, controlled by a woman with very short hair who was pulling on a long rope, attached to a pulley. Despite their fear, you see, the two older Baudelaires were very interested in what was going on, and only wished that they were not involved in any way.

  As the curtain fell, Count Olaf strode offstage and looked at the children. “It’s the end of Act Two! Why aren’t the orphans in their costumes?” he hissed to the two white-faced women. Then, as the audience broke into applause, his angry expression turned to one of joy, and he walked back onstage. Gesturing to the short-haired woman to raise the curtain, he strode to the exact center of the stage and took elaborate bows as the curtain came up. He waved and blew kisses to the audience as the curtain came down again, and then his face once again filled with anger. “Intermission is only ten minutes,” he said, “and then the children must perform. Get them into costumes, quickly!”

  Without a word the two white-faced women grabbed Violet and Klaus by the wrists and led them into a dressing room. The room was dusty but shiny, covered in mirrors and tiny lights so the actors could see better to put on their makeup and wigs, and there were people calling out to one another and laughing as they changed their clothes. One white-faced woman yanked Violet’s arms up and pulled her nightgown off over her head, and thrust a dirty, lacy white dress at her to put on. Klaus, meanwhile, had his pajamas removed by the other white-faced woman, and was hurriedly stuffed into a blue sailor suit that itched and made him look like a toddler.

  “Isn’t this exciting?” said a voice, and the children turned to see Justice Strauss, all dressed up in her judge’s r
obes and powdered wig. She was clutching a small book. “You children look wonderful!”

  “So do you,” Klaus said. “What’s that book?”

  “Why, those are my lines,” Justice Strauss said. “Count Olaf told me to bring a law book and read the real wedding ceremony, in order to make the play as realistic as possible. All you have to say, Violet, is ‘I do,’ but I have to make quite a speech. This is going to be such fun.”

  “You know what would be fun,” Violet said carefully, “is if you changed your lines around, just a little.”

  Klaus’s face lit up. “Yes, Justice Strauss. Be creative. There’s no reason to stick to the legal ceremony. It’s not as if it’s a real wedding.”

  Justice Strauss frowned. “I don’t know about that, children,” she said. “I think it would be best to follow Count Olaf’s instructions. After all, he’s in charge.”

  “Justice Strauss!” a voice called. “Justice Strauss! Please report to the makeup artist!”

  “Oh my word! I get to wear makeup.” Justice Strauss had on a dreamy expression, as if she were about to be crowned queen, instead of just having some powders and creams smeared on her face. “Children, I must go. See you onstage, my dears!”

  Justice Strauss ran off, leaving the children to finish changing into their costumes. One of the white-faced women put a flowered headdress on Violet, who realized in horror that the dress she had changed into was a bridal gown. The other woman put a sailor cap on Klaus, who gazed in one of the mirrors, astonished at how ugly he looked. His eyes met those of Violet, who was looking in the mirror as well.

  “What can we do?” Klaus said quietly. “Pretend to be sick? Maybe they’d call off the performance.”

  “Count Olaf would know what we were up to,” Violet replied glumly.

  “Act Three of The Marvelous Marriage by Al Funcoot is about to begin!” a man with a clipboard shouted. “Everyone, please, get in your places for Act Three!”

  The actors rushed out of the room, and the white-faced women grabbed the children and hustled them out after them. The backstage area was in complete pandemonium—a word which here means “actors and stagehands running around attending to last-minute details.” The bald man with the long nose hurried by the children, then stopped himself, looked at Violet in her wedding dress, and smirked.

  “No funny stuff,” he said to them, waggling a bony finger. “Remember, when you go out there, just do exactly what you’re supposed to do. Count Olaf will be holding his walkie-talkie during the entire act, and if you do even one thing wrong, he’ll be giving Sunny a call up there in the tower.”

  “Yes, yes,” Klaus said bitterly. He was tired of being threatened in the same way, over and over.

  “You’d better do exactly as planned,” the man said again.

  “I’m sure they will,” said a voice suddenly, and the children turned to see Mr. Poe, dressed very formally and accompanied by his wife. He smiled at the children and came over to shake their hands. “Polly and I just wanted to tell you to break a leg.”

  “What?” Klaus said, alarmed.

  “That’s a theater term,” Mr. Poe explained, “meaning ‘good luck on tonight’s performance.’ I’m glad that you children have adjusted to life with your new father and are participating in family activities.”

  “Mr. Poe,” Klaus said quickly, “Violet and I have something to tell you. It’s very important.”

  “What is it?” Mr. Poe said.

  “Yes,” said Count Olaf, “what is it you have to tell Mr. Poe, children?”

  Count Olaf had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and his shiny eyes glared at the children meaningfully. In one hand, Violet and Klaus could see, he held a walkie-talkie.

  “Just that we appreciate all you’ve done for us, Mr. Poe,” Klaus said weakly. “That’s all we wanted to say.”

  “Of course, of course,” Mr. Poe said, patting him on the back. “Well, Polly and I had better take our seats. Break a leg, Baudelaires!”

  “I wish we could break a leg,” Klaus whispered to Violet, and Mr. Poe left.

  “You will, soon enough,” Count Olaf said, pushing the two children toward the stage. Other actors were milling about, finding their places for Act Three, and Justice Strauss was off in a corner, practicing her lines from her law book. Klaus took a look around the stage, wondering if anyone there could help. The bald man with the long nose took Klaus’s hand and led him to one side.

  “You and I will stand here for the duration of the act. That means the whole thing.”

  “I know what the word ‘duration’ means,” Klaus said.

  “No nonsense,” the bald man said. Klaus watched his sister in her wedding gown take her place next to Count Olaf as the curtain rose. Klaus heard applause from the audience as Act Three of The Marvelous Marriage began.

  It will be of no interest to you if I describe the action of this insipid—the word “insipid” here means “dull and foolish”—play by Al Funcoot, because it was a dreadful play and of no real importance to our story. Various actors and actresses performed very dull dialogue and moved around the set, as Klaus tried to make eye contact with them and see if they would help. He soon realized that this play must have been chosen merely as an excuse for Olaf’s evil plan, and not for its entertainment value, as he sensed the audience losing interest and moving around in their seats. Klaus turned his attention to the audience to see whether any of them would notice that something was afoot, but the way the wart-faced man had arranged the lights prevented Klaus from seeing the faces in the auditorium, and he could only make out the dim outlines of the people in the audience. Count Olaf had a great number of very long speeches, which he performed with elaborate gestures and facial expressions. No one seemed to notice that he held a walkie-talkie the entire time.

  Finally, Justice Strauss began speaking, and Klaus saw that she was reading directly from the legal book. Her eyes were sparkling and her face flushed as she performed onstage for the first time, too stagestruck to realize she was a part of Olaf’s plan. She spoke on and on about Olaf and Violet caring for each other in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, and all of those things that are said to many people who decide, for one reason or another, to get married.

  When she finished her speech, Justice Strauss turned to Count Olaf and asked, “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

  “I do,” Count Olaf said, smiling. Klaus saw Violet shudder.

  “Do you,” Justice Strauss said, turning to Violet, “take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  “I do,” Violet said. Klaus clenched his fists. His sister had said “I do” in the presence of a judge. Once she signed the official document, the wedding was legally valid. And now, Klaus could see that Justice Strauss was taking the document from one of the other actors and holding it out to Violet to sign.

  “Don’t move an inch,” the bald man muttered to Klaus, and Klaus thought of poor Sunny, dangling at the top of the tower, and stood still as he watched Violet take a long quill pen from Count Olaf. Violet’s eyes were wide as she looked down at the document, and her face was pale, and her left hand was trembling as she signed her name.

  CHAPTER

  Thirteen

  “And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Count Olaf said, stepping forward to address the audience, “I have an announcement. There is no reason to continue tonight’s performance, for its purpose has been served. This has not been a scene of fiction. My marriage to Violet Baudelaire is perfectly legal, and now I am in control of her entire fortune.”

  There were gasps from the audience, and some of the actors looked at one another in shock. Not everyone, apparently, had known about Olaf’s plan. “That can’t be!” Justice Strauss cried.

  “The marriage laws in this community are quite simple,” Count Olaf said. “The bride must say ‘I do’ in the presence of a judge like yourself, and sign an explanatory document. And all of you”—here Count Olaf gestured out to the audience
—“are witnesses.”

  “But Violet is only a child!” one of the actors said. “She’s not old enough to marry.”

  “She is if her legal guardian agrees,” Count Olaf said, “and in addition to being her husband, I am her legal guardian.”

  “But that piece of paper is not an official document!” Justice Strauss said. “That’s just a stage prop!”

  Count Olaf took the paper from Violet’s hand and gave it to Justice Strauss. “I think if you look at it closely you will see it is an official document from City Hall.”

  Justice Strauss took the document in her hand and read it quickly. Then, closing her eyes, she sighed deeply and furrowed her brow, thinking hard. Klaus watched her and wondered if this were the expression Justice Strauss had on her face whenever she was serving on the High Court. “You’re right,” she said finally, to Count Olaf, “this marriage, unfortunately, is completely legal. Violet said ‘I do,’ and signed her name here on this paper. Count Olaf, you are Violet’s husband, and therefore in complete control of her estate.”

  “That can’t be!” said a voice from the audience, and Klaus recognized it as the voice of Mr. Poe. He ran up the stairs to the stage and took the document from Justice Strauss. “This is dreadful nonsense.”

  “I’m afraid this dreadful nonsense is the law,” Justice Strauss said. Her eyes were filling up with tears. “I can’t believe how easily I was tricked,” she said. “I would never do anything to harm you children. Never.”