A Tale of Wretched Occurrences: The Beginning

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂

The adults run into the parlor, and you and Klaus sneak closer to the door to hear what they’re saying better — though it turns out you didn’t need to move, because Mr. Poe is screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Goodness, golly, good god, Mary and Joseph, Zeus and Hera, Nathaniel Hawthorne!” he yells.

“Which snake is it?” the bald man asks.

“It’s the incredibly deadly viper,” comes Violet’s voice.

“Don’t touch her! Grab her! Move closer! Run away! Kill the snake! Leave it alone! Give it some food! Don’t let it bite her!” Mr. Poe shrieks. “It bit her! It’s bitten her! It bited her! Calm down! Get moving! Call an ambulance! Call a scientist! Call my wife! This is ghastly! This is phantasmagorical! You are police officers! Do something!”

“It- it looks like the baby’s playing,” one of the white-faced women stutters.

“With the incredibly deadly viper?!” Mr. Poe shouts.

“That’s our cue,” you whisper to Klaus.

He stands up, walking into the parlor with Uncle Monty’s journal in hand, and you follow him.

“From the expedition journal of Dr. Montgomery Montgomery, April 24th. ‘The incredibly deadly viper wouldn’t hurt a fly. I know this because I tried to feed it flies this morning. It is friendly and kind, playful and smart, and if you can get past your first impression, it can make a wonderful addition to the family.’” Klaus shuts the journal. “And therefore, it could not have killed Uncle Monty.”

Mr. Poe peers at the snake. “Well… I guess it does look rather harmless.”

“This doesn’t change anything!” Count Olaf shouts, coming up behind Mr. Poe. “There are still plenty of deadly types of snakes in that room that could have done it. The Mamba du Mal bites as it strangles. The irascible python is homicidally grumpy. The Virginian wolf snake can bludgeon you to death with a typewriter.”

“How do you know all that?” you interrogate, catching his misstep.

“Because I read up on all types of snakes in the library section of the Reptile Room,” Count Olaf gloats.

“Psst, boss,” the henchperson of indeterminate gender whispers.

“Don’t interrupt me while I’m talking. If I may say so myself, I am quite the expert on the snakes.”

“Ay!” Sunny shouts, which means, “Ah-ha!”

Count Olaf hisses at her. “What is it saying?”

“She said ‘ah-ha’ because she figured something out,” Klaus translates.

“You said you don’t know anything about snakes,” you remind him.

“I… that is-”

“That’s right. Stephano, explain-” Mr. Poe’s sentence is interrupted by more coughing.

Count Olaf leans over to his henchpeople. “We need a plan,” he says in his normal voice.

“Should we kill him?” one of the white-faced women asks.

“Well he is coughing a lot. Let’s see if he dies of natural causes.”

Mr. Poe eventually stops coughing, and the troupe groans with disappointment.

“Explain yourself,” Mr. Poe demands.

Count Olaf returns to his Stephano accent. “The reason that I said I did not know anything about the snakes is because… I was being modest.”