Hazel Blue Baudelaire and a series of unfortunate events

Part 5

We bustle into the house, bags in our arms. Klaus isn't holding any bags, but still has Sunny in his arms, so he can't move very much. I look up at the stairs, and roll my eyes as Olaf and who I assume his theatre troupe looks down at us. I wont describe how the following two minutes went, because this next little review and the lyrics of the awful song he sang should be enough. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. HOW CAN HE THINK HE CAN SING? I'M LIVING WITH THIS? THIS?

It's the Count, it's the Count, it's the CountIt's the Count, it's the Count, it's the Count.[Olaf]Who else has such robust good looks in such a large amount?I'm handsome and I'm talented and love your .[Troupe]It's the Count, it's the Count, it's the CountIt's the Count, it's the Count, it's the Count.[Olaf]The C is for courageous, just another word for brave.[Troupe]O![Olaf]Oh my god, what a very handsome knave.[Troupe]U![Olaf]Unbelievable good looks and brains and heart![Troupe]N![Olaf]For the knowledge, 'cause I'm very very smart.[Troupe]T![Olaf]For the talent, which is such a crucial factor,When you're handsome and good-looking and the world's greatest actor.[Troupe]It's the Count, it's the Count, it's the CountIt's the Count, it's the Count, it's the Count.[Olaf]Who else has such robust good looks in such a large amount?I'm handsome and I'm talented and love your bank account.[Troupe and Olaf]It's the Count, it's the Count, it's the CountIt's the Count, it's the Count...it's...the...Count.

"We get it!" I snap. Klaus and I exchange glances, both just fed up. Violet tries to say something, but is mind blown and just can't put any words into play. Olaf scoffs, "You do realise it's a good thing to do to clap at the end of a performance?"
I clap, begrudgingly as Olaf explains, "This is my theatre troupe. Now, we have been preparing an exciting new production. All of the artistic factors of my life are coming together, like the two pieces of bread in the middle of a sanwich."
I scoff, "I don't know what sandwiches 'actors' like you might eat, but the bread goes on the outside of a sandwich."
Violet sighs as Olaf demands, "In any case, we demand congratulations, which you did give, but whatever. We want a meal."
Sunny babbles, "Give us time!"
"What my sister means is-"
Olaf scoffs, "I don't have time to learn a second language that isn't whatever it is I'm speaking right now. You know, every time she talks, it's like the thingies on a fork are being jammed straight into my-"
"What my sister means," Klaus repeats, "Is dinner will be served shortly."
"What are we supposed to do until then?" Olaf asks. I snap, "Maybe wait? Maybe act? Do actor things? Get drunk? Cry? Write a play? Whatever you want?"
Olaf storms off, his troupe following him. We all walk into the kitchen, and I pick the pasta making machine up. It looks fixable, and Violet offers to take it out my hands. I agree, and Klaus calls me over. He asks, "How do you fix this? You and Violet would know the-"
I sigh, "Do you really want to know how you fix a machine like this?"
Klaus nods, and I realise it's times like this that I love my steel toe boots. I kick the stove as hard as I can, and watch as a flame bursts into the air. Then, I put a pot over it and Klaus stares at me, partly in horror, and partly in awe. I explain, "Next time, you might be able to get away with just slamming your fist down. Does that make sense?"
Klaus nods again, and we begin making the sauce to the pasta. Violet stands opposite us, fixing the pasta machine and Klaus asks, "Do you think Count Olaf and his theatre troupe will enjoy the meal?"
"Mother used to say actors would eat anything," Violet smiles. I scoff, "You've seen them perform and would seriously describe them as actors?"
Violet grabs a handful of flour, and blows on it. I splutter as it floats into my face, and Klaus lets out a small laugh. Violet smiles at me, and I shake my head. If it weren't for Klaus, I would do it straight back. Now, to make pasta."

                                                                                       ***
"Dinner is served!"
I announce as we burst into the dining room. The theatre troupe all watch us as we put their food on their plates. Olaf demands, "As I was saying before the HELP interrupted, there is no I in acting. No selfish urges, no ego, no selfish urges, not arrogance, no vanity. Only what the french call, escargo. It is the first burst of applause when the curtains burst open. When the actor embraces his... whatever. I give, and I give to the public, just as I give and I give to these orphans. But sometimes, I wonder, is it worth it? Is it... where's the roast beef?"
"What?" I scoff. Olaf turns to me, and spits, "The roast beef. Or as the french call it je roast beef."
"Firstly," I snap, "The french don't call it that. Je means I. Secondly, we made homemade pasta. And thirdly, you didn't tell us you wanted roast beef?"
Olaf stands up, and hisses, "In agreeing to adopt you, I became your father. And as your father, I am not someone to be stupid towards. Serve us roast beef."
"We don't have any, Olaf," I whisper. Olaf rips Sunny out my arms, and holds her up in the air. I scream as he laughs, "Alas, poor Sunny."
I try reaching up to grab her, and eventually I think he gets bored. He puts her on the fruit bowl and slides her up the table. He demands, "Clean the table, wash the dishes, and then do whatever. Go to your beds."
"You mean our bed?" I yell, "You only gave us one bed!"
Olaf leans down to my level, and says, "If you want more than one bed, go and buy one. Or better yet, stop being an orphan."
"You know perfectly well we have no money," Klaus snap, "Our fortunes aren't ours until Violet and Hazel Blue come of-"
Olaf hits him, and he slams into the wall. Klaus sinks to the floor and I yell, "HOW DARE YOU! YOU DISGUSTING MONSTER-"
I scream as Olaf's hand raises into the air. It feels like slow motion as he slaps me, and I fall the floor. Tears roll down my face, and I cry as Olaf storms out the room with his theatre troupe. Violet sinks to the floor next to me, and I sob, "This isn't better than nothing. I would rather be out there Violet. Out on the streets, with no bed, and no roof. I tried to be positive, I really did, but he hit Klaus and I. As much as I know you don't want to admit it, we would be safer on the streets."
Klaus lies his head on my chest, and I cry, "We need to get out of here, Violet. This is after a day with him. We arrived this morning, and he is already hitting us."
"I know," Violet whispers, "I know."