Lemony Snicket's A Series Of Unfortunate Events Page #3

Ugly little people.

Why aren't you children in the kitchen preparing our dinner?

Dinner?

It's the French word for the evening meal.

On the back. Flip it.

We'll take it in the dining room at 8:00.

We expect absolute silence while we're rehearsing our play.

But we've never made dinner before.

It's already 7:
30. 8:00!

Pasta it is.

Okay. Let's start casting this puppy.

Now, who shall play the most handsome count in all the world?

Would you do it, sir?

All right.

Pasta Puttanesca. That's Italian for "very few ingredients."

That's great.

Sunny, a little help.

I'm on it.

Okay, we're going to need a pot. No pot.

And a strainer. No strainer.

Thank you.

My pleasure.

And a saucepan.

This is a little piece I like to call "Electric Chair".

I think you might have to turn it up.

Is anybody out there?!

Strainer. That's brilliant.

Sunny, how's that pot coming?

Voilà.

Sunny, that's not a pot.

It's a spittoon.

A spittoon? You mean, like...

We'll wash it twice.

Well?

It's good. It's really good.

Time check.

Let's go back to prehistoric times when dinosaurs ruled the Earth.

Baudelaire orphans to the courtesy desk.

What do you want?

Dinner is served.

Puttanesca.

What did you call me?

It's pasta. Pasta Puttanesca.

Where's the roast beef?

Roast beef?

Beef. Yes. Roast beef.

It's the Swedish term for beef that is roasted.

But you didn't tell us you wanted roast beef.

You know, there's a big world out there filled with desperate orphans who would gladly swim across an ocean of thumbtacks just to be eclipsed by the long shadow that is cast by my accomplishments.

But I don't care about them.

I chose to open my heart to you two loverly children and your hideous primate.

All I ask in return is that you do every thing that pops into my head while I enjoy the enormous fortune your parents left behind.

No. Why, you little...

Back off, parrot face!!

I'll bite higher!

Don't mock me!

Wow. You are nuts.

It's time you children learnt a little respect.

Back! Put her down!

You monster!

You all saw it. The boy slipped.

You won't get a cent until Violet turns 18.

Really?

Says who? The law. Look it up.

We're going to call Mr Poe about this right now.

Are you?

I'm very disappointed in you, children.

Where were we?

Are you okay? No.

Klaus, what are you doing?

I'm going. Going where?

Home.

This is our home now.

This is not home.

Home is where your parents put you to bed at night, where they teach you to ride a bike, or where they get choked up on your first day of school.

This is not home.

How could they do this to us?

They're just bad people.

Not them. Mom and Dad.

Klaus. Violet, you're thinking it too.

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