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

by Lemony Snicket

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Count Olaf announced, “Beverly and Elliot, the two-headed freak, will be thrown to the lions today.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Violet Baudelaire announced, “we are thrilled to be chosen.”

  CHAPTER

  Eleven

  There is another writer I know, who, like myself, is thought by a great deal of people to be dead. His name is William Shakespeare, and he has written four kinds of plays: comedies, romances, histories, and tragedies. Comedies, of course, are stories in which people tell jokes and trip over things, and romances are stories in which people fall in love and probably get married. Histories are retellings of things that actually happened, like my history of the Baudelaire orphans, and tragedies are stories that usually begin fairly happily and then steadily go downhill, until all of the characters are dead, wounded, or otherwise inconvenienced. It is usually not much fun to watch a tragedy, whether you are in the audience or one of the characters, and out of all Shakespeare’s tragedies possibly the least fun example is King Lear, which tells the story of a king who goes mad while his daughters plot to murder one another and other people who are getting on their nerves. Toward the end of the play, one of William Shakespeare’s characters remarks that “Humanity must perforce prey upon itself, like monsters of the deep,” a sentence which here means “How sad it is that people end up hurting one another as if they were ferocious sea monsters,” and when the character utters those unhappy words, the people in Shakespeare’s audience often weep, or sigh, or remind themselves to see a comedy next time.

  I am sorry to report that the story of the Baudelaire orphans has reached a point where it is appropriate to borrow Mr. Shakespeare’s rather depressing sentence to describe how the Baudelaire orphans felt as they addressed the crowd gathered at the edge of the lion pit and tried to continue the story they found themselves in without turning it into a tragedy, when it seemed that everyone was eager to hurt one another. Count Olaf and his henchmen were eager to see Violet and Klaus jump to their carnivorous deaths, so that Caligari Carnival would become more popular, and Madame Lulu would continue telling Olaf’s fortune. Esmé Squalor was eager to see Madame Lulu thrown into the pit, so that she could get all of Olaf’s attention, and the Baudelaires’ coworkers were eager to help, so they could join Olaf’s troupe. The reporter from The Daily Punctilio and the other members of the audience were eager to see violence and sloppy eating, so their visit to the carnival would be worthwhile, and the lions were eager for a meal, after being whipped and denied food for so long. It seemed that every member of humanity gathered at the roller coaster that afternoon was eager for something awful to occur, and the children felt awful as Violet and Klaus stepped toward the plank and pretended they were just as eager.

  “Thank you, Count Olaf, for choosing my other head and I as the first victims in the lion show,” Klaus said grandly in his high-pitched voice.

  “Um, you’re welcome,” Count Olaf replied, looking a bit surprised. “Now, jump into the pit so we can watch the lions devour you.”

  “And do it quickly!” cried the man with pimples on his chin. “I’d like my carnival visit to be worthwhile!”

  “Instead of watching a freak jump into the pit,” Violet said, thinking quickly, “wouldn’t you rather watch someone push a freak into the pit? That would be much more violent.”

  “Grr!” Sunny growled, in disguised agreement.

  “That’s a good point,” one of the white-faced women said thoughtfully.

  “Oh yes!” cried the woman with dyed hair. “I want to see the two-headed freak thrown to the lions!”

  “I agree,” Esmé said, glaring at the two older Baudelaires and then at Madame Lulu. “I’d like to see someone thrown into the pit.”

  The crowd cheered and applauded, and Sunny watched as her two siblings took a step toward the plank that hung over the pit where the lions were waiting hungrily. There are tiresome people who say that if you ever find yourself in a difficult situation, you should stop and figure out the right thing to do, but the three siblings already knew that the right thing to do was to dash over to the roller-coaster carts, hook up the fan belt, and escape into the hinterlands with Madame Lulu and her archival library, after calmly explaining to the gathered crowd that bloodshed was not a proper form of entertainment and that Count Olaf and his troupe ought to be arrested that very instant. But there are times in this harum-scarum world when figuring out the right thing to do is quite simple, but doing the right thing is simply impossible, and then you must do something else. The three Baudelaires, standing in their disguises in the midst of a crowd eager for violence and sloppy eating, knew that they could not do the right thing, but they thought they could try to get the crowd as frantic as possible, so that they might slip away in the confusion. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny weren’t sure if using the techniques of stalling and mob psychology was the right thing to do, but the Baudelaire orphans could not think of anything else, and whether or not it was the right thing to do, their plan did seem to be working.

  “This is absolutely thrilling!” exclaimed the reporter excitedly. “I can see the headline now: ‘FREAKS PUSHED INTO LION PIT!’ Wait until the readers of The Daily Punctilio see that!”

  Sunny made the loudest growl she could, and pointed one of her tiny fingers at Count Olaf. “What Chabo is trying to convey in her half-wolf language,” Klaus said, “is that Count Olaf ought to be the one to push us into the pit. After all, the lion show was his idea.”

  “That’s true!” the pimpled man said. “Let’s see Olaf throw Beverly and Elliot into the pit!”

  Count Olaf scowled at the Baudelaires, and then gave the crowd a smile that showed quite a few of his filthy teeth. “I am deeply honored to be asked,” he said, bowing slightly, “but I’m afraid it would not be appropriate at this time.”

  “Why not?” demanded the woman with dyed hair.

  Count Olaf paused for a moment, and then made a short, high-pitched sound as disguised as Sunny’s growl. “I’m allergic to cats,” he explained. “You see? I’m sneezing already, and I’m not even on the plank.”

  “Your allergies didn’t bother you when you were whipping the lions,” Violet said.

  “That’s true,” the hook-handed man said. “I didn’t even know you had allergies, Olaf.”

  Count Olaf glared at his henchman. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, but the crowd didn’t want to hear another one of the villain’s speeches.

  “Push the freak in, Olaf!” someone shouted, and everyone cheered. Count Olaf frowned, but grabbed Klaus’s hand and led the two eldest Baudelaires onto the plank. But as the crowd roared around them and the lions roared beneath them, the Baudelaires could see that Count Olaf was no more eager to get any closer to the hungry lions than they were.

  “Throwing people into pits isn’t really my job,” Count Olaf said nervously to the crowd. “I’m more of an actor.”

  “I have an idea,” Esmé said suddenly, in a false sweet voice, “Madame Lulu, why don’t you walk down that plank and throw your freak to its death?”

  “This is not really my job either, please,” Madame Lulu protested, looking at the children nervously. “I am fortune-teller, not freak-thrower.”

  “Don’t be so modest, Madame Lulu,” Count Olaf said with a nasty smile. “Even though the lion show was my idea, you’re the most important person here at the carnival. Take my place on the plank, so we can see someone get pushed to their death.”

  “What a nice offer!” the reporter cried. “You’re a very generous person, Count Olaf!”

  “Let’s see Madame Lulu throw Beverly and Elliot into the pit!” cried the pimpled man, and everyone cheered again. As mob psychology began to take hold, the crowd seemed to be as flexible as it was excited, and they gave the fortune-teller an enormous round of applause as she nervously took Count Olaf’s place on the plank. The piece of wood teetered for a moment from the weight of so many people standing on it, and the older Baudelaires had
to struggle to keep their balance. The crowd gasped in excitement, and then groaned as the two disguised children managed not to fall.

  “This is so exciting!” squealed the reporter. “Maybe Lulu will fall in, too!”

  “Yes,” Esmé snarled. “Maybe she will.”

  “I don’t care who falls in!” announced the pimpled man. Frustrated by the delay in violence and sloppy eating, he tossed his cold beverage into the pit and splashed several lions, who roared in annoyance. “To me, a woman in a turban is just as freaky as a two-headed person. I’m not prejudiced!”

  “Me neither!” agreed someone who was wearing a hat with the words CALIGARI CARNIVAL printed on it. “I’m just eager for this show to finally get started! I hope Madame Lulu is brave enough to push that freak in!”

  “It doesn’t matter if she’s brave enough,” the bald man replied with a chuckle. “Everyone will do what they’re expected to do. What other choice do they have?”

  Violet and Klaus had reached the end of the plank, and they tried as hard as they could to think of an answer to the bald man’s question. Below them was a roaring mass of hungry lions, who had gathered so closely together below the wooden board that they just seemed to be a mass of waving claws and open mouths, and around them was a roaring crowd of people who were watching them with eager smiles on their faces. The Baudelaires had succeeded in getting the crowd more and more frantic, but they still hadn’t found an opportunity to slip away in the confusion, and now it seemed like that opportunity would never knock. With difficulty, Violet turned her head to face her brother, and Klaus squinted back at her, and Sunny could see that her siblings’ eyes were filled with tears.

  “Our luck may have run out,” she said.

  “Stop whispering to your heads!” Count Olaf ordered in a terrible voice. “Madame Lulu, push them in this instant”

  “We’re increasing the suspense!” Klaus cried back desperately.

  “The suspense has been increased enough,” replied the man with the pimpled chin impatiently. “I’m getting tired of all this stalling!”

  “Me, too!” cried the woman with dyed hair.

  “Me, too!” cried someone else standing nearby. “Olaf, hit Lulu with the whip! That’ll get her to stop stalling!”

  “Just one moment, please,” Madame Lulu said, and took another step toward Violet and Klaus. The plank teetered again, and the lions roared, hoping that their lunch was about to arrive. Madame Lulu looked at the elder Baudelaires frantically and the children saw her shoulders shrug slightly underneath her shimmering robe.

  “Enough of this!” the hook-handed man said, and stepped forward impatiently. “I’ll throw them in myself. I guess I’m the only person here brave enough to do it!”

  “Oh, no,” Hugo said. “I’m brave enough, too, and so are Colette and Kevin.”

  “Freaks who are brave?” the hook-handed man sneered. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “We are brave,” Hugo insisted. “Count Olaf, let us prove it to you, and then you can employ us!”

  “Employ you?” Count Olaf asked with a frown.

  “What a wonderful idea!” Esmé exclaimed, as if the idea had not been hers.

  “Yes,” Colette said. “We’d like to find something else to do, and this seems like a wonderful opportunity.”

  Kevin stepped forward and held out both his hands. “I know I’m a freak,” he said to Olaf, “but I think I could be just as useful as the hook-handed man, or your bald associate.”

  “What?” the bald man snapped. “A freak like you, as useful as me? Don’t be ridiculous!”

  “I can be useful,” Kevin insisted. “You just watch.”

  “Stop all this bickering!” the pimpled man said crankily. “I didn’t visit this carnival to hear people argue about their work problems.”

  “You’re distracting me and my other head,” Violet said in her low, disguised voice. “Let’s get off this plank and we can all discuss this matter calmly.”

  “I don’t want to discuss things calmly!” cried the woman with dyed hair. “I can do that at home!”

  “Yes!” agreed the reporter from The Daily Punctilio. “‘PEOPLE DISCUSS THINGS CALMLY’ is a boring headline! Somebody throw somebody else into the lion pit, and we’ll all get what we want!”

  “Madame Lulu will do it, please!” Madame Lulu announced in a booming voice, and grabbed Violet and Klaus by the shirt. The Baudelaires looked up at her and saw a tear appear in one of her eyes, and she leaned down to speak to them. “I’m sorry, Baudelaires,” she murmured quietly, without a trace of accent, and reached down to Violet’s hand and took the fan belt away from her.

  Sunny was so upset that she forgot to growl. “Trenceth!” she shrieked, which meant something along the lines of, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” but if the fake fortune-teller was ashamed of herself she did not behave accordingly. “Madame Lulu always says you must always give people what they want,” she said grandly in her disguised voice. “She will do the throwing, please, and she will do it now!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Hugo said, stepping forward eagerly. “I’ll do it!”

  “You’re the one being ridiculous!” Colette said, contorting her body toward Lulu. “I’ll do it!”

  “No, I’ll do it!” Kevin cried. “With both hands!”

  “I’ll do it!” the bald man cried, blocking Kevin’s way. “I don’t want a freak like you for a coworker!”

  “I’ll do it!” cried the hook-handed man.

  “I’ll do it!” cried one of the white-faced women.

  “I’ll do it!” cried the other one.

  “I’ll get someone else to do it!” cried Esmé Squalor.

  Count Olaf unwound his whip and flicked it over the heads of the crowd with a mighty snap! that made everyone cower, a word which here means “cringe and duck and hope not to get whipped.” “Silence!” he commanded in a terrible roar. “All of you ought to be ashamed of yourselves. You’re arguing like a bunch of children! I want to see those lions devouring someone this very instant, and whoever has the courage to carry out my orders will get a special reward!”

  This speech, of course, was just the latest example of Count Olaf’s tedious philosophy concerning a stubborn mule moving in the proper direction if there is a carrot dangling in front of it, but the offer of a special reward finally got the crowd as frantic as possible. In a moment, the crowd of carnival visitors had become a mob of volunteers, all of whom swarmed eagerly forward to finally throw someone to the lions. Hugo lunged forward to push Madame Lulu, but bumped into the box that the white-faced women were holding, and the three of them fell in a heap at the edge of the pit. The hook-handed man lunged forward to grab Violet and Klaus, but his hook caught in the cord of the reporter’s microphone and became hopelessly entangled. Colette contorted her arms so as to grab Lulu’s ankles, but grabbed Esmé Squalor’s ankle by accident, and got her hands all twisted around one of Esmé’s fashionable shoes. The woman with dyed hair decided she might give it a try, and leaned forward to push the elder Baudelaires, but they stepped to the side and the woman fell into her husband, who accidentally slapped the man with pimples on his chin, and the three carnival visitors began arguing loudly. Quite a few people who were standing nearby decided to get in on the argument, and gathered around to shout in each other’s faces. Within moments of Count Olaf’s announcement, the Baudelaires were in the middle of a furious mass of humanity, who were standing over the children, yelling and pushing and preying on themselves like monsters of the deep, while the lions roared furiously in the pit below.

  But then the siblings heard another sound in the pit, a horrible crunching and ripping sound that was far worse than the roaring of beasts. The crowd stopped arguing to see what was making the noise, but the Baudelaires were not interested in seeing anything more, and stepped back from the terrible sound, and huddled against one another with their eyes shut as tightly as possible. Even in this position, however, the children could hear th
e terrible, terrible sounds from the pit, even over the laughter and cheers of the carnival visitors as they crowded together at the edge of the pit to see what was happening, and so the three youngsters turned away from the commotion, and, with their eyes still closed, slipped away in the confusion, stumbling through all of the cheering people until at last they were in the clear, a phrase which here means “far enough away from the roller coaster that they could no longer see or hear what was going on.”

  But the Baudelaire orphans, of course, could still imagine what was happening, as I can imagine it, even though I was not there that afternoon and have only read descriptions of what occurred down in the pit. The article in The Daily Punctilio says that it was Madame Lulu who fell first, but newspaper articles are often inaccurate, so it is impossible to say if this is actually true. Perhaps she did fall first, and the bald man fell after her, or perhaps Lulu managed to push the bald man in as she tried to escape his grasp, only to slip and join him in the pit just moments later. Or perhaps these two people were still struggling when the plank teetered one more time, and the lions reached both of them at the same time. It is likely that I will never know, just as I will probably never know the location of the fan belt, no matter how many times I return to Caligari Carnival to search for it. At first I thought that Madame Lulu dropped the strip of rubber on the ground near the pit, but I have searched the entire area with a shovel and a flashlight and found no sign of it, and none of the carnival visitors whose houses I have searched seem to have taken it home for a souvenir. Then I thought that perhaps the fan belt was thrown into the air during all the commotion, and perhaps landed up in the tracks of the roller coaster, but I have climbed over every inch without success. And there is, of course, the possibility that it has burned away, but lightning devices are generally made of a certain type of rubber that is difficult to burn, so that possibility seems remote. And so I must admit that I do not know for certain where the fan belt is, and, like knowing whether it was the bald man or Madame Lulu who fell first, that this may be information that will never come to me. But I can imagine that the small strip of rubber ended up in the same place as the woman who removed it from the lightning device and gave it to the Baudelaire orphans, only to snatch it back at the last minute, and in the same place as the associate of Olaf’s who was so eager to get a special reward. If I close my eyes, as the Baudelaire orphans closed their eyes as they stumbled away from this unfortunate event, I can imagine that the fan belt, like the bald man and my former associate Olivia, fell into the pit that Olaf and his henchmen had dug, and ended up in the belly of the beast.