pusillanimous- Violet Baudelaire x fem! reader

Chapter Fifteen

We opened the door to see a brunette woman in a baby blue pantsuit. She had big black boots and held a long, black cane with a red jewel on the top. Over her pantsuit was a long white coat with a nametag pinned to the chest with a name printed on it.

Dr. Orwell.

"Hello, Klaus," she spoke. "Here to pick up your glasses?"

"Yes," Klaus replied hesitantly.

"Lovely. Come on back with me and we'll have you try them out."

Dr. Orwell was nothing like I had expected her to be. I had expected her to be appear much more ominous. I was afraid she would be Count Olaf or one of his troupe members, in a horrible diguise of course.

As she led us through the hallway to her office, fear welled up inside of me and i couldn't help but ask a question. "Will Klaus be hypnotized?"

Dr. Orwell laughed as she responded. "Hypnotized? Goodness, no! Hypnosis is only in scary movies."

We knew this wasn't true, however it eased our fears. If Dr. Orwell believed this, there was no way she could be a hypnotist!

"Klaus tells me he's quite the reader, do you girls enjoy reading as well?" Dr. Orwell asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes, we read any time we can," Violet said.

"Have you ever read the phrase 'you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar' in your readings?"

Sunny garbled something meaning "I don't believe so."

"I haven't read very many books about flies," I admitted.

"The expression doesn't quite have anything to directly do with flies," said Dr. Orwell. "It simply means that you're more likely to get what you want when you act in a sweet way, like honey, rather than a distasteful way, like vinegar. I'm sure you're curious why I'm bringing this up. All will be clear to you in just a moment." We came to a stop with a door marked Waiting Room to our left, and one marked office to our right. "Now, Klaus, you can follow me into the office, and you three girls can wait in the waiting room.

Us three hesitated for a moment. Finally, I nodded, grabbing Violet's hand and leading her into the waiting room. Behind the door of that waiting room, we found a receptionist with ginger victory rolls, a pink shirt to match a pink ascot and pair of heels, an orange skirt, and red lipstick. Looking at the receptionist closer, we were greeted by a frighteningly familiar pair of shiny eyes.

I now realized what Dr. Orwell had meant. In being polite, she was honey trapping the metaphorical flies that were me and the Baudelaires. Count Olaf sat at the receptionist desk, donning a nametag with the name "Shirley" printed on it and an evil smile, having caught us at last.

"Hello, little girls," he spoke in a high, feminine voice. "What are your names?"

"You already know our names," I spoke curtly, a word which here means "tired of Count Olaf's nonsense".

"That wig and lipstick don't fool us any more than those heels. You're Count Olaf," said Violet.

"You must be mistaken, I'm Shirley," he pointed to his nametag. "It even says so on my nametag."

Sunny shrieked something meaning "A nametag doesn't prove anything!"

"Sunny's right," said Violet, "You're not Shirley just because you have a little pin with the name Shirley on it."

"Alright, then I'll tell you why I am Shirley," Olaf said. "My name is Shirley because I would like to be called Shirley and it is impolite not to do so."

"I don't care if we're impolite to someone as disgusting and horrible as yourself," I said.

"But if you're impolite to me, I might do something impolite to you, like tear out your hair with my bare hands." He held up his hands, which now had grown-out nails and bright red nail polish, and they looked very sharp.

"Okay, Shirley," Violet began, "You've been lurking around since we got here, haven't you?"

"And you've been hiding out in this building the whole time, haven't you?" I said.

"Perhaps," Shirley said, batting the long eyelashes she wore to cover up her one long eyebrow.

"And you're in cahoots with Dr. Orwell," I said.

Sunny shrieked and Violet translated for her. "My sister means that Dr. Orwell hypnotized Klaus and caused that horrible accident with Phil, didn't she?"

"It's within the bounds of the imagination," said Shirley.

Violet, Sunny, and I looked at eachother. Violet stepped toward the door, still holding Sunny as I looked back to Shirley. "And now," I began, "you're going to try to take us away, aren't you?"

"Oh, of course not! I'm going to offer you a cookie like a good little receptionist," Shirley smiled.

"For crying out loud, you are not a receptionist!"

"Oh, yes, I am. I'm a sad little receptionist who wants very much to raise children of her very own. Four children in fact, one brash little girl, one smarty-pants little girl, one hypnotized little boy, and one buck-toothed baby."

"Well, you can't raise us, we're already being raised by sir," Violet spoke.

"Not for very long," Shirley said.

"That's ab-" I stopped. Would it be absurd? I thought about how we'd been treated since our arrival, sleeping in small beds and waking to the sound of metal pots banging together each morning. Gum for lunch and something disgusting for dinner.

"Ab?" said a voice from behind me. "What in the world does the word 'ab' mean?"

I turned to see Dr. Orwell standing at the doorway with Klaus, who had brand new glasses. Violet ran to him.

"Klaus!" she said. "We were so worried ab-" she stopped, seeing the same distant stare in his eyes as earlier, this time with a dazed smile.

"There you go again with 'ab,' whatever does that mean?"

"Oh, 'ab' isn't a word," said Shirley. "Only a very stupid person would say something like 'ab.'"

"They are stupid, aren't they?" Dr. Orwell responded. "They must have very low self-esteem."

"I couldn't agree more, Dr. Orwell, " spoke Shirley.

"Please, call me Georgina," she winked. "Well, children, here he is. He's a bit tired right now but he'll be fine by tomorrow."

"Toodle-oo, orphans!" Shirley shouted as we walked out.

"She seems like a nice lady," Klaus said.