Glasses

6

"Wake up, lumber laborers. Lucky Smells has no time for dawdling," The foreman's voice boomed over the scratchy speakers. "Klaus Baude-liar, would you like to get out of bed this instant?" Klaus arose from his bed with a smile on his face and a blank stare. "Yes, sir," He answered. "Would you like to bring your baby sister?" He got out of bed, picked up his infant sister from her bunk with Violet, and made his way out of the door with the other workers. Y/n and Violet got up and noticed Klaus walking out the door with the baby.

The girls scrambled out of bed and put on their shoes to chase after the boy. They made their way to the plant to find Klaus holding Sunny as he threw pieces of wood into a large industrial woodchipper. "Klaus, what's going on?" Y/n asked as he looked at the boy. "You're frightening Sunny and you're frightening me. What's going on?" Violet asked as she took her sister from his arms. He did not answer and continued to throw pieces of wood into the chipper.

The two girls watched as Klaus continued to throw wood into the chipper with a vacant stare. "Stop it, and we can leave," Violet snapped as she stopped her brother from tossing another handful into the machine. "Lucky smells is our life, Lucky smells is our home," He chanted. Y/n began to think about how the workers had repeated that phrase yesterday when they had brought the idea of leaving. It was starting to make sense to her now. "I should have listened to you when you wanted to go," Violet confessed as she looked at her brother. "If you're still in there, I want you to know I miss you an inordinate amount,"

"Inordinate? What the heck does that mean?" Phil asked as he turned off the wood chipper. "It can mean many things. Immoderate, irregular. But in this case, I think it means you missed me a lot," "Klaus you're back!" Y/n hugged the boy with a smile on her face. Violet had felt a big wave of relief wash over her as she realized her brother was acting normal again. "Why am I not wearing shoes?" Y/n looked down and noticed the boy's bare feet. "I don't know what's going on here, but we need to--" "Baude-liars and their accompany brat!" The foreman shouted over the loudspeaker interrupting Violet.

"I'm talking to you, lumber brats," he said. "Go to the very fancy door. You have visitors," The children glanced at each other. They did not have to say anything, because they all had the same question. "Who could be visiting us?" They all paraded to the front of the lumbermill where Charles stood waiting for them. "Ah, there you are, children," Charles sighed as he saw the children approaching.

"I know your time here hasn't been peachy, but your luck is about to change. Because I have brought you... this peach," He smiled as he held out a peach. "But who is visiting us?" "Oh, I don't know, but they can't come inside because that would be trespassing, and they would be put to work. But I can tell you they're behind that very fancy door," Charles pointed to a large bright yellow door. They stood in front of it and waited for it to open.

Now is one of those times where I must beg you to click off this book and go read a different one. You can leave now and imagine how this story had a happy ending and pretend that the woman at the door is the Duchess of Winnipeg and she has come to throw the children a pony party at her chateau, or you could pretend that she is a butler with a tray of blueberry pancakes, or if you're allergic to blueberry pancakes she has a special plate of your favorite hotcakes just for you. But if you choose to watch on, I must warn you, the misery does not end here.

In fact, while writing this book, I took a trip to Paltryville myself. It was long after the Lucky Smells Lumbermill had closed its doors and Dr. Orwell's office had fallen into disrepair. Of course, the building was not originally an optometrist office at all, but the headquarters of a secret organization. That is where I learned what happened to Klaus Baudelaire. Poor, Klaus Baudelaire. It's enough to make you want to abandon civilization and live by a pond. But if you choose to look this misery in the eye, you should be asking one question. It's the same question that the children should have asked, and that question is. Where is Count Olaf?

"My, my, my," A phony woman's voice said. "Aren't you a lucky boy?" She said as she placed Klaus's glasses back on his face. "Yes, sir," Klaus murmured. The two girls glanced at each other. "Thank you, I can see," "Well of course you can. I'm an excellent optometrist, no matter what the medical board says," Dr. Orwell said. "Well, hello, little girls. What are your names?" A broad-built woman asked. "You know our names, and that wig and that lipstick don't fool us," Violet spat. The woman let out a gasp.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm Dr. Orwell's receptionist. My name is Shirley," "You mean Shirley Count Olaf?" Y/n asked. "Actually, my last name is St. Ives. It says so on my nametag," The imposter said as he pointed at his name tag. "What have you done to Klaus?" Violet asked as she glanced at her brother. "You were right, these children are horribly impolite," Dr. Orwell commented as she looked at Count Olaf. "They really should be more careful, Dr. Orwell. If they were to do something impolite to me, like, for example, call me by the wrong name, I would have to do something impolite to them, like, for example, tear out their hair with my bare hands," Count Olaf then opened a tin box and offered a cookie to the girls.

"What's all this?" Sir asked as he was driven up to the group by Charles. "I don't pay you in gum to stand around gabbing!" Charles greeted the children out of breath from biking Sir all the way from his office. "Charles, you have to listen. This woman is a notorious villain," Violet told him. "She's not even a woman," Y/n added. "Nonsense!" Sir argued. "Dr. Orwell has provided free eye exams to Lucky Smells employees for years. And there's nothing villainous about free healthcare," Sir said.

"Clearly she's a woman. Look at her pantsuit," "I'm surprised at you children," Charles spoke up. "Women can be doctors just as women can be receptionists," Y/n shook her head, "We're talking about the receptionist," "I'm cookie, Shirley?" Count Olaf said messing up his phrase. "I'm Shirley, Cookie?" Sir accepted the offer, but Count Olaf quickly closed the tin when he reached for it. "Did you consider our little proposal?" he asked as he looked at Sir. "What proposal?" Sir grunted and waved Charles off. "It doesn't concern you, Charles," "Doesn't concern me? I'm your partner," The two women glanced at each other, and Dr. Orwell asked Charles about his vision despite him having perfect eyesight.

"Can't have a cloudy, dull-eyed partner. How would you make my omelets?" He said to Charles with a shrug. "Now ladies, would you like a ride?" The two women hopped in his carriage alongside him, and Charles began to pedal off clearly struggling with all the weight.

"What a lovely lady,"