Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > AFOUE
The Bad Beginning
4 reviews"Yo, fools!" she cried, walking toward the children. "I got some news that is sick off the hook: fo shizzle! Yo folks have been iced in a terrible gang fight. 'Iced' means-" "We know what the wo...
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In a place not too far away, and a time like the present-despite the fact that there's no time like the present, three children lived happy, enriching lives. But eventually, they would find themselves in circumstances most unfortunate. Emma presents the one of a kind masterpiece
A FANFIC OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS
It was a foggy, unfathomable day-much like the foggy, unfathomable soup I am currently being served, or the foggy, unfathomable watermelon over at the next table-at Grimy Beach, a disgusting polluted place where three children were spending a P.A. day.
Evlet, the eldest of the three Ficdelaire children, was the smartest fourteen-year-old cow the world had ever known, relatively speaking. As she gingerly avoided a pile of sharp things, Evlet was concentrating on an invention. You could tell as such as she had taken a ribbon out of her pocket, and was ready to strangle anyone who disturbed her. She was trying to think of a way to keep a fullly grown cow in her rather large bedroom.
Manda, the middle child, was eagerly examining life in a nuclear waste pool which had been spawned by what looked like a radioactive bra.** Manda, an insomniac, loved to write, and wore contacts because she thought glasses made her look bookish. She began talking to one. She had not slept in over 96 hours.
Emmy,* the youngest, was a curious child. She enjoyed using her three sharp teeth-as one had been lost in a nightclub fight-to bite people, and was possibly the world's youngest sadist. She was currently chewing a tin can.
The children had been allowed by their parents-the word "parents" here means "people who were responsible for the creation of these... people" - to steal a rickety shopping cart and ride it down to Grimy Beach. Because of the putrid stench the children did not notice the smell of smoke that drifted from an ominous barbeque a few miles away.
Emmy cried out. "Look!" Because everyone around her was kind of dim, most people had a hard time understanding what she was saying. But evidently she meant the figure emerging onto Grimy Beach.
Madame Joe was the Ficdelaire's parent's friend and associate who worked as a clown. She enjoyed children very much, but she had no idea what they were into, thus generally making a fool of herself. Today she was attempting a rap star persona - unsuccessfully.
"Yo, fools!" she cried, walking toward the children. "I got some news that is sick off the hook: fo shizzle! Yo folks have been iced in a terrible gang fight. 'Iced' means-"
"We know what the word 'iced' means," muttered Manda, having a good vocab from reading horrid fanfics. She was angry, though she believed this was a joke.
"They w-were...iced?" Evlet asked incredulously. Madame Joe nodded, and took the children by their hands.
As they walked away from Grimy beach (Emmy cut her foot on something) the Ficdelaires didn't know that they were stepping into a new life.
- - -
It is incredibly easy for me to describe how the Ficdelaires felt on that mildly terrible day. Evlet was in a sate of mild sadness, as if she had dropped an ice cream cone. Manda had already forgotten what had happened, though for some reason she retained the idea he didn't have parents, and Emmy was dreaming of torturing a small snail.
Normally, the children would live with with Madame Joe, but because their home was virtually unharmed, the three children, as well as Madame Joe and her family, all moved into the Ficdelaire mansion.
Nothing changed really. Evlet began building her barn, Manda re-discovered the fun of sleep, and Emmy played with handcuffs and chains.
Next week, the children returned to Grimy Beach. The shore held no bad memories for them, and they resumed last week's activities. But soon another mysterious figure emerged from the fog.
A tall young woman walked over to the children. She opened her mouth to speak, but began rapidly sneezing into a tissue. Once she stopped, she spoke.
"Hello, children. I'm afraid I have some grave news. Madame Joe* and her family have perished in a mildly terrible fire."
"How unfortunate," sad Evlet.
"How displeasing," said Manda.
"SADISTIC!" shrieked Emmy.
"Seriously, though," asked Evlet, "this is crazy messed up. A gang fight, and a fire? Bad luck much."
"Anyway," the woman said after sneezing, "I'm Raely, executor of Madame Joe's estate and, by proxy, yours. I'm here to take you to your geographically closest relative."
"That doesn't sound like something our parents would do," said Manda.
"Actually," replied Raely, leading them away from the beach, "That's from Joe's will." Manda, Emmy, and Evlet shared a look.
- - -
The three siblings were sitting comfortably in the back of Raely's automobile-an electric blue Mercedes Benz. For a sick executor, she had a killer car.
The Benz pulled up to a neat little bungalow in the suburbs. A beautiful garden had been torn down by aphids, and only a single orange tree stood withered on the lawn. The tree was being tended to by a middle aged woman, who smiled warmly at them.
"You must be the Ficdelaires! I heard about you through the grapevine." She indicated a withered old crawler that had been attached to a speaker-effectively carrying neighbourhood news everywhere.
Evlet happily reached for an orange from the tree, to be rapped on the knuckles by the lady's trowel. "Did I say you could have an orange?"
"Sorry," muttered Evlet.
"I'm Injustice Casie," she announced.
"Weerdnaim!" Emmy cried.
"Actually, it's my title."
Raely was interested. "Where do you work?"
"Dairy Queen."
The adults got to talking as the children sat around, bored.
"So," Raely finally said, "are you married to Count Moolaf?"
Injustice Casie shook her head. "Nope," she said, "he's my neighbour."
The sundae-maker pointed to a stately house across the road. The house's lawn was neatly trimmed, and the windows were all clean, and the mailbox wasn't rusty. Horrifed, the children realized that this was the house of a business man - like an economist!
A well-kept man stepped out of the house, though nothing kind could be said about his dress sense. He wore huge sunglasses, most likely to cover up a unibrow, and a long sweeping trenchcoat probably concealing an ankle tattoo, though an inappropriate piercing was just as likely.
"Hi there," he said to the children. "I'm Count Moolaf, and I'm pleased to meet you."
The children groaned simultaneously. He sounded so boring. Each child reluctantly shook his hand.
Moolaf turned and the children obediently followed him into the house, wondering if this unfortunate man would be their caregiver for the rest of their lives.
* Not me. Bandgeekfreak, thank you. I'm going to be someone else.
** You shall find many nonsencical things as such. Thank the NTWF.
* Jess, here you are. No, I still have a part for you elsewhere, don't worry.
Okay, here's a run-down of the characters:
Evlet - Evie, moocow
Manda - Manda, rainydaykid13
Emmy - Emma, bandgeekfreak
Raely - Rae, rae_she_writes
Madame Joe - Jess, writing_maniac
Count Moolaf - No one. Since we are all girls, he is completely made up. But inspired by Evie, of course.
A FANFIC OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS
It was a foggy, unfathomable day-much like the foggy, unfathomable soup I am currently being served, or the foggy, unfathomable watermelon over at the next table-at Grimy Beach, a disgusting polluted place where three children were spending a P.A. day.
Evlet, the eldest of the three Ficdelaire children, was the smartest fourteen-year-old cow the world had ever known, relatively speaking. As she gingerly avoided a pile of sharp things, Evlet was concentrating on an invention. You could tell as such as she had taken a ribbon out of her pocket, and was ready to strangle anyone who disturbed her. She was trying to think of a way to keep a fullly grown cow in her rather large bedroom.
Manda, the middle child, was eagerly examining life in a nuclear waste pool which had been spawned by what looked like a radioactive bra.** Manda, an insomniac, loved to write, and wore contacts because she thought glasses made her look bookish. She began talking to one. She had not slept in over 96 hours.
Emmy,* the youngest, was a curious child. She enjoyed using her three sharp teeth-as one had been lost in a nightclub fight-to bite people, and was possibly the world's youngest sadist. She was currently chewing a tin can.
The children had been allowed by their parents-the word "parents" here means "people who were responsible for the creation of these... people" - to steal a rickety shopping cart and ride it down to Grimy Beach. Because of the putrid stench the children did not notice the smell of smoke that drifted from an ominous barbeque a few miles away.
Emmy cried out. "Look!" Because everyone around her was kind of dim, most people had a hard time understanding what she was saying. But evidently she meant the figure emerging onto Grimy Beach.
Madame Joe was the Ficdelaire's parent's friend and associate who worked as a clown. She enjoyed children very much, but she had no idea what they were into, thus generally making a fool of herself. Today she was attempting a rap star persona - unsuccessfully.
"Yo, fools!" she cried, walking toward the children. "I got some news that is sick off the hook: fo shizzle! Yo folks have been iced in a terrible gang fight. 'Iced' means-"
"We know what the word 'iced' means," muttered Manda, having a good vocab from reading horrid fanfics. She was angry, though she believed this was a joke.
"They w-were...iced?" Evlet asked incredulously. Madame Joe nodded, and took the children by their hands.
As they walked away from Grimy beach (Emmy cut her foot on something) the Ficdelaires didn't know that they were stepping into a new life.
- - -
It is incredibly easy for me to describe how the Ficdelaires felt on that mildly terrible day. Evlet was in a sate of mild sadness, as if she had dropped an ice cream cone. Manda had already forgotten what had happened, though for some reason she retained the idea he didn't have parents, and Emmy was dreaming of torturing a small snail.
Normally, the children would live with with Madame Joe, but because their home was virtually unharmed, the three children, as well as Madame Joe and her family, all moved into the Ficdelaire mansion.
Nothing changed really. Evlet began building her barn, Manda re-discovered the fun of sleep, and Emmy played with handcuffs and chains.
Next week, the children returned to Grimy Beach. The shore held no bad memories for them, and they resumed last week's activities. But soon another mysterious figure emerged from the fog.
A tall young woman walked over to the children. She opened her mouth to speak, but began rapidly sneezing into a tissue. Once she stopped, she spoke.
"Hello, children. I'm afraid I have some grave news. Madame Joe* and her family have perished in a mildly terrible fire."
"How unfortunate," sad Evlet.
"How displeasing," said Manda.
"SADISTIC!" shrieked Emmy.
"Seriously, though," asked Evlet, "this is crazy messed up. A gang fight, and a fire? Bad luck much."
"Anyway," the woman said after sneezing, "I'm Raely, executor of Madame Joe's estate and, by proxy, yours. I'm here to take you to your geographically closest relative."
"That doesn't sound like something our parents would do," said Manda.
"Actually," replied Raely, leading them away from the beach, "That's from Joe's will." Manda, Emmy, and Evlet shared a look.
- - -
The three siblings were sitting comfortably in the back of Raely's automobile-an electric blue Mercedes Benz. For a sick executor, she had a killer car.
The Benz pulled up to a neat little bungalow in the suburbs. A beautiful garden had been torn down by aphids, and only a single orange tree stood withered on the lawn. The tree was being tended to by a middle aged woman, who smiled warmly at them.
"You must be the Ficdelaires! I heard about you through the grapevine." She indicated a withered old crawler that had been attached to a speaker-effectively carrying neighbourhood news everywhere.
Evlet happily reached for an orange from the tree, to be rapped on the knuckles by the lady's trowel. "Did I say you could have an orange?"
"Sorry," muttered Evlet.
"I'm Injustice Casie," she announced.
"Weerdnaim!" Emmy cried.
"Actually, it's my title."
Raely was interested. "Where do you work?"
"Dairy Queen."
The adults got to talking as the children sat around, bored.
"So," Raely finally said, "are you married to Count Moolaf?"
Injustice Casie shook her head. "Nope," she said, "he's my neighbour."
The sundae-maker pointed to a stately house across the road. The house's lawn was neatly trimmed, and the windows were all clean, and the mailbox wasn't rusty. Horrifed, the children realized that this was the house of a business man - like an economist!
A well-kept man stepped out of the house, though nothing kind could be said about his dress sense. He wore huge sunglasses, most likely to cover up a unibrow, and a long sweeping trenchcoat probably concealing an ankle tattoo, though an inappropriate piercing was just as likely.
"Hi there," he said to the children. "I'm Count Moolaf, and I'm pleased to meet you."
The children groaned simultaneously. He sounded so boring. Each child reluctantly shook his hand.
Moolaf turned and the children obediently followed him into the house, wondering if this unfortunate man would be their caregiver for the rest of their lives.
* Not me. Bandgeekfreak, thank you. I'm going to be someone else.
** You shall find many nonsencical things as such. Thank the NTWF.
* Jess, here you are. No, I still have a part for you elsewhere, don't worry.
Okay, here's a run-down of the characters:
Evlet - Evie, moocow
Manda - Manda, rainydaykid13
Emmy - Emma, bandgeekfreak
Raely - Rae, rae_she_writes
Madame Joe - Jess, writing_maniac
Count Moolaf - No one. Since we are all girls, he is completely made up. But inspired by Evie, of course.
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