Prologue

Last time you heard of the Baudelaire orphans they were happy and safe, Count Olaf was dead and everything was peaceful. Violet was becoming a young woman and at 16, almost old enough to retrieve the Baudelaire fortune. Klaus was now 14 and had already suffered a broken heart and experienced some horribly unfortunate events yet was even more knowledgeable than ever. Sunny was no longer a baby but a mature 3 year old who had an extremely vast vocabulary and a great talent for cooking. The three siblings had also recently become carers for their newly adopted daughter, Beatrice. They had been living comfortably on a desert island but had finally decided that Beatrice was now old enough to leave her mother's grave behind and face the world's treachery and sorrow...

My associate, Lemony Snicket unfortunately ran out of time to research and update you on the Quagmire triplets' current events of that time due to an accident with seven suspicious ballerinas and a shovel. He managed to get chapter 14 to his editor before it was too late but sadly passed away (was brutally murdered) soon after the last in his series had been released to the public.

So now it is my solemn occupation to carry on my dear friend's lifework. I am writing this as a tribute to Lemony and fortunately you do not have to carry on reading this dreadful tale, you could be reading some other book with a delightful ending about fairies, elves and magical lands far away from this tragic world we live in. If you have already read Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events then you have already suffered enough, and that is all I will say on the matter.

As I sit here, tapping at the rusty keys on Lemony's old type writer (which I managed to obtain from an old friend who owed me a favour) I am thinking about all those who died for the noble cause of VFD. I will sit in silence on some nights just to wonder, wonder about what the world would be like if Jacques was still here, I still miss him after all these years and now there is no one but Beatrice, my wonderful niece who carries on the Snicket line. I have set eyes on her only once or twice, she looks so much like her mother its unbelievable. I wish I could speak to her, just contact her in some way but I must get on with my duty of informing the world of the woeful lives of the Baudelaire orphans.

I hope, now that you know a little more about me, I can carry on with the terrible tale that my research has uncovered...