Daniel Handler

Dear reader, there are people in the world who know no misery and woe. And they take comfort in cheerful films about twittering birds and giggling elves. There are people who know that there's always a mystery to be solved. And they take comfort in researching and writing down any important evidence. But this story is not about such people. This story is about the Baudelaires. And they are the sort of people who know that there's always something. Something to invent, something to read, something to bite, and something to do, to make a sanctuary, no matter how small. And for this reason, I am happy to say, the Baudelaires were very fortunate indeed.

I'm sorry to say that this is not the movie you will be watching. The movie you are about to see is extremely unpleasant. If you wish to see a film about a happy little elf, I'm sure there is still plenty of seating in theatre number two. However, if you like stories about clever and reasonably attractive orphans, suspicious fires, carnivorous leeches, Italian food and secret organizations, then stay, as I retrace each and every one of the Baudelaire children's woeful steps. My name is Lemony Snicket, and it is my sad duty to document this tale.

If you have ever lost someone very important to you, then you already know how it feels; and if you haven't, you cannot possibly imagine it.

This is the story of the three Baudelaire children. Violet loved to invent; her brother, Klaus, loved to read; and their sister, Sunny... she loved to bite. My name is Lemony Snicket and it is my duty to tell you their tale. No one knows the precise cause of the Baudelaire fire, but just like that, the Baudelaire children became the Baudelaire orphans.

I don't know if you've ever noticed this, but first impressions are often entirely wrong. For instance: Klaus, when Sunny was born, didn't like her at all; but by the time she was six weeks old, the two of them were as thick as thieves - a phrase which here means "fetching and biting for hours on end". In the case of Count Olaf, however... they were correct.

In a world of abandoned items and discarded materials, Violet knew there was always something. Something she could fashion into nearly any device, for nearly every occasion.

Sanctuary is a word which here means a small safe place in a troubling world. Like an oasis in a vast desert or an island in a stormy sea. The Baudelaires enjoyed their evening in the sanctuary they helped build together, but in their hearts they knew that the troubling world lay just outside. A world, which I'm sad to say, can be described in two dismal words.

I am thrilled to say that Count Olaf was captured for crimes too numerous to mention and before serving his life sentence, it was the judge's decree that Olaf be made to suffer every hardship that he forced upon the children.

The Baudelaires have triumphed. A word hear means unmasking a cruel and talentless arsonist and solving the mystery of the Baudelaire Fire.

If only justice were as kind. Count Olaf vanished after a jury of his peers overturned his sentence. As for the Baudelaires, what laid ahead of them was unclear. But one thing they knew as they climbed once again into the back of Mr. Poe's car, they were moving on.

And then I'll be arrested and sent to jail and you'll live happily ever after with a friendly guardian, spending your time inventing things and reading books and sharpening your little monkey teeth, and bravery and nobility will prevail at last, and this wicked world will slowly but surely become a place of cheerful harmony, and everybody will be singing and dancing and giggling like the littlest elf! A happy ending! Is that what you had mind?

All that I ask is that you do each and every little thing that pops into my head, while I enjoy the enormous fortune your parents left behind.

Oh, the Captain loved the ladies / But he dragged himself a wife / Now he's wishin' he was fishin' / But he's on the hook for life.

Well, I guess he shouldn't 've oughta / But he drowned her in the water / And then a flounder downed her / That's why they never found her.

*You're* the monster. These children tried to warn you, but you wouldn't listen. No one ever listens to children! You think you're innocent? You're accomplices! This certificate says that I have the fortune now! And there's nothing you can do about it!

Then I'll be arrested and sent to jail, and you'll live happily ever after with a friendly guardian, spending your time inventing things and reading books and sharpening your little monkey teeth, and bravery and nobility will prevail at last and this wicked world will slowly but surely become a place of cheerful harmony and everyone will be singing and dancing and giggling like the Littles Elf. Happy ending. Is that what you had in mind?

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.

Oh, Violet. Violet, Violet, Violet. Violet. You're 14 years old. You should know by now that you can't have everything you want. You want a life of happiness? A roof over your head? A place to call your own and all that jazz? And what about what I want? I want that enormous fortune and for all investigations against me to cease. You're going to help me get what I want… tonight.