A Series of Unfortunate Events (2017–…): Season 2, Episode 3 - Episode #2.3 - full transcript

The episode you are about to watch,

assuming your eyes are open
and tilted towards me,

is a story which can teach you
the difference between the word "nervous"

and the word "anxious."

The word "nervous" means
"worried about something."

The way you might feel if you were served
prune ice cream,

because you'd be worried
it would taste awful.

I'm nervous.

"Anxious," on the other hand,
means "troubled by disturbing suspense."

The way you might feel
if you were served a live alligator,

because you'd be troubled by the suspense



of whether you would eat your dessert
or it would eat you.

I'm anxious.

If you are thinking about the story
of the Baudelaire orphans,

you might feel nervous
because you do not know how it ends.

But if you are viewing this story,
you will be anxious and troubled

by the disturbing suspense in which they
find themselves hopelessly trapped.

Now, Baudelaires,
I know you must be nervous.

I was a little nervous
trying to find you a new guardian,

given your track record.

But never fear.
This is a very fashionable block.

Much more fashionable
than where you lived,

even though it's a few blocks away.

We're not concerned
with how fashionable it is.

We're more than nervous, Mr. Poe.
We're anxious.



Our friends have been kidnapped by Olaf.

- Yes, the Quagmire twins.
- Triplets.

- There's only two of them.
- Quigley died in a fire.

Then no need to worry about him.
As for Dennis and Iphigenia...

Duncan and Isadora.

- Do you know what that is?
- A police car?

A citywide manhunt to apprehend Olaf
and rescue your friends.

We at Mulctuary Money Management
are co-sponsoring every effort

to bring this ghastly villain to justice.

Look at the wanted posters
we had pasted up all over town.

You can't see them.
The trees are blocking the light.

Trust me. It's a good likeness
of a very bad person.

Once I have dropped you at this apartment

where old friends of your parents have
promised to be your guardians,

I'm taking a helicopter ride
to search for the Quagmires

using the binoculars my wife gave me
as an anniversary present.

Now, let's see...

Has anyone seen the numbers 667?

It should be somewhere on this block.

Another mysterious set
of our parents' friends.

Who we've never met.

Found the building. It's right next
to this lamppost I just ran into.

Names?

I'm Violet, and these are my siblings,
Klaus and Sunny.

You're expected. But who's that
behind you with a nosebleed?

This is a restricted area.

Don't mind me.
I'm just dropping off the Baudelaires,

and then I'm off to find a clinic
and/or bag of frozen peas

before I miss my helicopter.

Sorry.
No unauthorized parties allowed.

There's a manhunt going on.

Well, in that case, goodbye, Baudelaires.

If you need to contact me,
remember I'll be in a helicopter

and won't be reachable
at any moment at any time.

- Friend of yours?
- Oh, he works at a bank.

I know the type.

In fact, you'll be staying with the city's
sixth most important financial adviser.

Mr. and Mrs. Squalor
live in the penthouse,

which is the top floor of 667 Dark Avenue,

the most fashionable
and secure building in town.

Count Olaf won't be able
to get in or out of this building.

Sorry about the lighting. Dark is in.

- In what?
- Just in.

You can take these stairs
to the penthouse.

Is the elevator out of order?

I'm good with mechanical devices.
I'd be happy to look at it.

A kind and unusual offer,
but it's not out of order. Just out.

I'll phone the penthouse and tell them
to expect you within the hour.

People who live in penthouses
are rich and powerful.

I hope they can help us
find the Quagmires.

We don't have a clue
where Olaf could have taken them.

We're in the dark.

The phrase "in the dark,"
which I'm sure you know,

can refer to not only
one's shadowy surroundings,

but also to the secrets
which might be surrounding you.

Every day, the sun goes down
over all of these secrets,

so everyone is in the dark
in one way or another.

If you are sunbathing in the park,

but you do not know
about the deep and dangerous pit nearby,

then you are in the dark even though you
are not actually in the dark.

If you are on a midnight hike

knowing full well
that several ballerinas are following you,

then you are not in the dark
even though you are in the dark.

Of course, it is possible
to be in the dark in the dark,

and to be not in the dark
not in the dark.

But there are so many secrets
in this world

that it is likely that you are
always in the dark about something,

whether you're in the dark in the dark
or in the dark not in the dark.

So you'll eventually fall

into the deep and dangerous pit
dug by several ballerinas,

which is dark in the dark in the park.

That's odd.

There's two sets of elevator doors. See?
On every other floor, there's just one.

You must be the Baudelaires. Welcome.
The door's always unlocked.

My name is Jerome Squalor.
I'm so happy you've come to stay with us.

How do you do, Mr. Squalor?

You must be out of breath from that climb.

I can think of two things
to do about that.

One, stop calling me Mr. Squalor
and start calling me Jerome.

Number two, I am gonna make you
a nice, cold martini. Come this way.

- A martini? Isn't that an alcoholic drink?
- Usually it is.

But alcoholic martinis are out
and aqueous martinis are in.

Aqueous martinis?

It's just cold water in a fancy glass
with an olive in it.

We've never had aqueous martinis before,
but we'll try them.

You're adventurous,
just like your parents.

I remember when we went up
to Mount Fraught

and did high-impact bird-watching.
How many years ago was that?

- Was Montgomery Montgomery there?
- Or Josephine Anwhistle?

Who? No, I never met
any of your previous guardians.

- You don't happen to own a spyglass?
- No.

But one of the eagles flew off
with my best pair of binoculars that day.

I was not happy.

And then, soon after that, I lost touch
with your parents.

You know how it is.

You get older.
You find different interests.

You marry a woman
who despises all of your old friends.

But there's no need
to discuss such unpleasantness.

I wanted to adopt you
the moment I heard about the fire.

Unfortunately, it was impossible.

Orphans were out then.

But now they're in.

- Good evening.
- It's mid-morning, my precious.

I'm Esmé Gigi Geniveve Squalor,

the city's sixth most important
financial adviser.

Even though I am unbelievably wealthy,
you may call me Esmé.

I'll learn your names later.

I am very happy you're here.

When all my friends hear
that I have three real live orphans,

they'll be sick with jealousy.
Won't they, Jerome?

I don't know. I don't like to hear
that anybody's sick.

You'll have such a glamorous life with me

that your friends' eyes
will roll back in their heads.

You will be exposed
to all the innest restaurants,

the innest boutiques, premieres,
cockfights, gallery openings.

What my wife means is that we hope
you'll feel safe and secure.

- Don't tell them silly things.
- Okay.

Children, here are things you should know.

Dark is in, light is out.
Stairs are in, elevators are out.

- Pinstripe suits are...
- In.

In.

- In.
- Yes.

Those horrible clothes you're wearing
are out.

What my wife means is we hope
you'll feel comfortable while you're here.

I feel awful about all
the terrible experiences you've had.

This entire time,
we could've been taking care of you...

It couldn't be helped.

When something's out, it's out.
And orphans used to be out.

We're glad you're interested
in orphans now,

because we are concerned
about some of our friends.

- Mmm.
- Oh...

The Quagmires. I'm sure you're
anxious for them to be rescued.

We are anxious.

If there's one good thing
about being rich and powerful,

it's you don't have to be anxious.

After they're found, the Quagmires
will live right here with us.

The more orphans the better.

- It's handy to have a few spares.
- Okay.

Rest at ease, Baudelaires.
You live in a penthouse now.

You're never going to want
for anything again.

All we want is for our friends to be safe.

Well, I'm sure
we'll hear good news soon.

Big fat fantastic news
about what we were just talking about!

- Has Olaf been captured?
- The Quagmires rescued?

Better.

- Dark is out, light is in.
- Oh.

We have to turn on lamps
and open curtains before anyone sees.

Flip the light switches in the west wing.

Baudelaires, open the curtains
in the living room.

I'll run around in panicky circles.

Something tells me the Squalors
won't be as helpful as we need them to be.

Meanwhile, Olaf could be
getting further and further away.

Does this seem like a nightmare?
A bad dream?

Because that's the effect I was going for.

Well, I have nightmares, too, orphans.

I wake up
in the middle of the night screaming,

and the only thing that comforts me

is knowing the three of you
will soon be screaming.

Just like another set of wealthy orphans
that happen to be in my clutches.

- Duncan and Isadora.
- Where are they?

You mean you don't know?

I thought everybody
could smell wealthy orphans

when they were in arm's reach.

Well, not to worry.

Soon all of you orphans
will be in my clutches.

Quagmires in one clutch,
and you, Baudelaires, in the other.

This pesky citywide manhunt
may have foreshadowed me

from taking them far away,
but not for long.

You mean "forestalled."
But we're gonna stop you.

- Mr. and Mrs. Squalor!
- Olaf is here!

- What?
- It can't be!

Did I hear you right?

How did he get past the doorperson?
How did he slip by the citywide manhunt?

- Where is he?
- Right here!

It is true, please,
what the babushka is saying.

- What?
- Count Olaf, please, is right here.

This poster is limited edition, please,

and is autographed by the star
of this month's manhunt.

How in the world did you manage that?

Please, pretty lady, I am foreigner.
We have secret ways.

Who is this man?

Jerome, I told you
Gunther was coming over today,

and that he might need
to hide behind the curtains.

Oh, yes! It is a pleasure
to make your acquaintance.

- Hello, please.
- Okay.

I hope you'll forgive
the way I am talking,

but I am, please, a foreigner.

Very nice to meet
the husband of pretty lady Esmé

and three hideous children.

Is "hideous" the right word
for what it is I am trying to say?

So foreign, so in.

This is Olaf, and I don't mean the poster.

Beautiful, no?

I can see that Count Olaf is
as handsome as a noble steed

riding on the back
of a beautiful princess.

His legendary handsomeness is celebrated

in special weekly holidays
in my faraway land, please.

What faraway land is that?

Far away.

Oh.

I don't think Count Olaf
can get very far away.

Not with the law closing in.

Oh.

But think about the poor Quagmire twins
and their sparkly sapphires.

They're not twins.

If this Count Olaf is somehow recognized
and taken to jail,

the little Quaggies
will never be found in their,

how do you say in your language,
super-duper hiding place,

and they will starve to death

like castaways on desert island
or vegetarian restaurant, please.

Oh!

Let's not talk about depressing things
like others being kidnapped.

Let's talk about exciting things
happening to me,

- like the In Auction we're planning.
- Ah!

The In Auction is happening
on the innest day, tomorrow,

at the innest auction house, Veblen Hall,

and is being hosted
by the innest auctioneer,

this foreign man named Gunther.

Just look, look, look, look.

Just look at this glossy
but classy catalog.

This auction is going to be so fashionable

that people are going to have
heart attacks and hives.

Of course, all the money
goes to a good cause.

Aw! Which good cause?

- Me. Me.
- Me. Me.

Every last penny goes to me.

Yes, but there will be auctioneer's fee
and incidentals, so...

Shouldn't we give the proceeds
to those who need it?

Perhaps those starving people
we were reading about?

Starving people can't eat money.

Plus, if we give money to poor people,

they won't be poor, and we won't have
anyone to feel sorry for.

Aw, poor people.

Which reminds me,
you poor wealthy orphans,

go far away, please.

Esmé and I have to talk big fat business.

Yes! Yes, yes, yes!

Jerome, I need you to put
the children into pinstripe suits

before anyone sees them in those clothes
and my life is ruined.

Ah.

Come this way. Okay.

Ah, now, the Duchess of Winnipeg
once stayed in this very room.

- No, this one.
- How many rooms are there?

Seventy-one, I think.
I don't know what's in half of them.

The other day I found a kitchen
I'd never seen before,

and the omelet was really good.

So the penthouse
has lots of places to hide.

Oh, I love hide and seek!

But it's so big, I thought
you'd like to bunk together tonight.

Children could get lost
in this penthouse for ages.

Here's your pinstripe suits.

I'm going to make
another round of martinis

while you three change.

I am so glad you're here.

I can't believe Olaf found us so quickly.

That means the Quagmires are close.

He said they were in arm's reach,
because the manhunt forestalled him.

What if he's hiding them
in this apartment?

Jerome said he doesn't know
what's in every room.

And that children could stay lost
for ages.

Esmé invited Gunther here.
Do you think they're working together?

Esmé's already rich.
She doesn't need our fortune.

Yeah, but she seems to be falling
for Count Olaf.

He could marry her
and become our guardian.

If something happens to Jerome.

Would pretty lady Esmé und husband
like to see party trick?

- Yes.
- Come, come, stand right here.

No.

This sofa belonged to the King of Arizona.
You don't recline on it!

- Sorry, darling.
- But Gunther and the chandelier.

Gunther was just showing us cane tricks
that earned him a bronze medal

for his country's non-trademark-violating
version of the Olympics. Right?

In my country, children do not interrupt

married couple
and foreign man turning tricks.

Let's forgive them this once,

seeing as they've finally put on
some in suits.

Where is the other one, please?

My sister's exploring.

She said she wants to see
every inch of this penthouse.

I hope she's careful.
Without a system, a person could get lost.

My sister's very resourceful.

I'd like to see
the rest of the apartment...

No, no, please. I do not approve
of small child browsing penthouse.

It shouldn't take long.

This penthouse has,
I'm guessing, two to three rooms?

Two or three rooms?
Two or three rooms?

Step this way, orphan boy,

and prepare to be so dazzled
your eyes will turn black.

I know
what your sister is up to.

We know what you're up to.
You won't get away with it.

Really? Have you seen my press clippings?

I could get away with murder... again.

This is the formal dining room.

- I love these vases, don't you?
- Mmm...

Sturdy enough to cause
a fatal concussion, no?

This is the semiformal dining room.

These vases are cute, too.

Yeah, but still heavy enough
for a good whacking.

The informal dining room.

Tiny vase can shatter
into a million pieces and hit your eye.

This is the games room.

Bowling alley.

My powder room.

- I'm not allowed in here.
- That's right.

Now, in this wing,

I have a number of rooms where I display
my most expensive, most in objects.

This is an enormous basket of rutabagas,
the innest root vegetable.

This is a collection
of extremely long rubber bands.

And this is Spain's largest handkerchief.

This looks large enough for,
how do you say, suffocating rich person.

- What was that?
- I said...

- Oh, bless you.
- Thank you, pretty lady.

I'm allergic to something in this room

that is not large handkerchief
or you two adult people.

The orphans, perhaps?

They're orphans? Qué pasa?

Yes, I'm allergic to orphans.

- Is it their dust?
- Yes, yes, or their ashes.

This clogs up my whole...
What is the word for it?

- Glands?
- Life.

Ah! We found Violet.

- How was the tour?
- It was thorough.

And?

We're back where we started.

Don't be silly.
We started in the dining room.

Speaking of dining,
I am so hungry, I could chew off your arm.

The innest restaurant
is half a block away.

We'll take the block-long limousine
to get there.

Think of the publicity.
We could get our picture in the paper.

- Let's take one now.
- Yes!

- I'm not sure the Baudelaires would...
- Jerome, camera. Kids, come on.

Oh, no, no, pretty lady, please.
Just a money shot.

Orphans in the photo
will generate excitement,

like celebrities or sled dogs.
Come on. Come on. Come on.

Lovely. There we go.

Get the pinstripes in, Jerome.
There we go.

Say cheese!

Gorgonzola!

"The Baudelaire orphans
are this season's fashionable accessories

for the city's sixth most important
financial adviser,

Esmé Gigi Geniveve Squalor, center,

who is organizing the In Auction
with Gunther, far left,

and her husband Jerome, not pictured."

Do you have any idea
how many orphaned students from Prufrock

are ending up
in the hands of dreadful people?

- Surely you're not afraid of foreigners.
- What? Of course not.

I am talking about the parade of tsuris
that has plagued

the Baudelaires, the Quagmires,
and who knows what other orphans,

whose affairs you are supposed to be
vice president of.

"Tsuris" means "trouble" in Yiddish.

I know what "tsuris" means.

I have taken an unpaid sabbatical
from my job as a school librarian

to come to the city and investigate.

Frankly, the more I read,
the more confused and upset I become.

The same thing happens when I read.

It's why my wife and I prefer
to curl up on the sofa

and watch a few episodes
of streaming television.

I have discovered startling facts
and developed disturbing theories.

If you have a few minutes...

I'm afraid I don't.

If you've ever had to postpone
a helicopter ride,

you'd know how grumpy the pilots get.

I don't care about grumpy pilots.

The Quagmires must be found,
and Olaf must be brought to justice.

Mr. Poe, please.
I haven't anywhere else to turn.

That's nice. Jacquelyn, could you bring
the helicopter safety harness?

Please?

In a world too often governed
by corruption and arrogance,

it can be difficult to stay true
to one's principles.

What did you say?

In a world too often governed
by corruption and arrogance...

It can be difficult to stay true
to one's principles.

- I've heard that a lot recently.
- There's cause to say it.

- Let me call you a taxi.
- Oh...

No, I can't afford a taxi
on an unpaid sabbatical.

I should take the trolley back to Prufrock
and beg for my job back.

The trolley!

- Jacques Snicket?
- Jacquelyn Scieszka.

- I need to arrange a pickup.
- What sort?

There's a person armed with curiosity
and well-defined morals

indicated by a concern for children

who could be of benefit to the world
were she pointed in the direction

of its most sinister secrets
instead of taking the trolley.

Got it. Where can I find her?
What does she look like?

Trolley stop, northwest kitty corner
from Mulctuary Money Management.

Bright-eyed woman with a copy of

The Incomplete History
of Secret Organizations.

Jacquelyn, I'm having some tsuris
with my three-hole punch!

Jacquelyn.

All aboard for the suburbs
and other less-exciting destinations.

All aboard!

Not all aboard yet! Wait!

If you could just wait. Please.

You almost hit me!

A thousand pardons.
I didn't mean to scare you.

I'll never forgive myself.

- Never?
- Not for a long time.

- You leaving town?
- I interviewed an ice cream vendor,

saw 20 minutes of a confusing movie
about zombies,

and ran into a dead end at a bank.

I don't know where I can go
except home... in defeat.

Maybe this story's not over. Need a ride?

It's my first day in the city,
but it's not my first day in the city.

You can't expect me to hop into the car
of a total stranger.

That is how taxis work.

It's troubling to think about orphans

who lost their home and parents in a fire
only to be kidnapped from Prufrock.

How did you know I was searching...

The taxi is just a day gig.
I'm also a member of an organization.

A secret organization?

If you know about it,
maybe it's not a secret.

- I have been reading.
- That's usually the first step.

- You're a volunteer.
- Jacques Snicket.

Olivia. Olivia Caliban.

Lean closer, Olivia Caliban.

See better now?

Depends on what you show me.

Oh, dear. They're cutting down
all the trees on our street.

Of course they're cutting them down.
Dark is out, light is in.

Have a wonderful lunch, Mrs. Squalor.

There's still a manhunt to catch Olaf.

So sorry, please,
to keep you waiting, please!

I was not on phone call
in phone call room.

Ugh. It is so drafty in here.

Oh! What the...

Some help, please?
A little help?

- Easy.
- Okay. I'm through.

- Limousine, good afternoon.
- My name's actually Abraham.

Our sources are correct.

Only Olaf would feel the need
to hide under a cape.

Jacquelyn, it's as we suspected.

Count Olaf is hiding the Quagmires
at 667 Dark Avenue

until the manhunt is over.

He and the Squalors are going to lunch.

We'll take it from here
if you take it from there.

Who's "we"? The new recruit, that's who.

Good. We need all the help we can get.

My wife is here
to drive me to the helicopter pad.

But, Mr. Poe, it's Secretary's Day.

Are you saying I shouldn't fly
in a deathtrap

but instead take you out to lunch
on solid ground?

- I can be ready in five minutes.
- Me, too.

Tell me, where do the city's most powerful
financial advisers lunch?

Let's go someplace spiffy and schmancy.
Someplace in.

Limousine, corner of Dark and Stormy.
Step on it.

- I love that new coat.
- Yes, isn't it in?

Imprisoned nuns made it from the feathers
of a rare species of bat.

Bats don't have feathers.

- Not this species.
- Not anymore.

Other door! Other door!

Here we are, Mrs. Squalor.

- Thank you, Limousine.
- My name's actually...

- You searched the entire penthouse?
- I'm sure. I had a system to keep track.

- If the Quagmires are in arm's reach...
- They must be in the building.

Welcome to Herring Houdini.

Welcome to Herring Houdini,
a legitimate business.

With no secret agenda behind it.

Welcome to Herring Houdini,
home of pickled fish.

- Everything has been prepared for you.
- And very quickly.

But not because we got a call
five minutes ago.

For the children,
we offer a tour of the kitchen.

Where they will probably not be thrown
into a burlap sack.

- And for the adults...
- Vodka martinis.

Which don't have
any sleeping potion in them at all.

We can't eat here.

This sounds perfect, yes.

I don't like to argue.
I'll let my wife decide.

Vodka martini?

Are we living in garbage?

Isn't this a fine kettle of fish?

Limousine, take us to a restaurant
that is actually in.

There.

Pretty lady, why don't you eat here
with your boring husband?

I'll take the children
to the herring restaurant for kidnapping.

- I mean hors d'oeuvres.
- We're not driving back there.

- It is, please, important.
- You're either in or you're out.

Besides, look at this place.

Daily Punctilio says it's the innest thing
since that bakery on 9th Street.

Sliced Bread.

- Café Salmonella?
- You're going to love the theme.

Mmm!

Hello. I'm Larry, your waiter.

Welcome to Café Salmonella,
the innest restaurant,

and the only one serving
an all-salmon menu,

including beverages and table linens.

It's that waiter. He's everywhere we go.

He's always trying to help.

Larry. I, uh...

I am feeling queasy, please.

I need to run back
to pretty lady's apartment

- where there is nothing hidden.
- Nonsense.

We've had the menu translated
for our foreign guests.

What language did you have it
translated into?

The one you speak most fluently.

Well, well, I speak all of them
hella fluently, so...

- Then there's nothing to worry about.
- I... Ow.

How did you...

May I start you off with still
or sparkling salmon-flavored water?

Salmon-flavored?

You are making my mouth water
and turn pink.

How do you make it salmon-flavored?

We put salmon in it.

- I'll have regular water.
- So would we.

Nonsense! What if someone sees you?
Regular water isn't in.

It's the primary ingredient
in aqueous martinis.

The young people might enjoy playing along

with the theme of Café Salmonella
and its virulently fishy decor.

We just wish our friends could be here
enjoying it with us.

That's understandable.

It's quite a quagmire
to be stuck in a fashionable apartment

while others are enjoying
the escape of a glamorous meal.

Can you be more specific?

Sit tight for a long lunch,

and everything will be taken care of
by your loyal wait staff.

I suggest a 46-course tasting menu

designed for persons
living in a 46-story building.

It is a nice, slow, leisurely meal

that keeps people in their seats until
everyone has been successfully rescued.

My brother once said suspicious activity
is like good jazz.

We'll know it when we hear it.

We have agents making sure Olaf's lunch
will take as long as possible,

giving us time to search the building.

All 46 stories.

Even if we get past the doorperson,
46 stories is a lot of ground to cover,

and a lot of stairs.

- Who said we'll take the stairs?
- How long do we have?

As long as it takes rich people
to eat lunch.

"Rich People Have Lunch."

Wait until the readers
of the Daily Punctilio see this.

Esmé Squalor dining at Café Salmonella

with three orphans
and a handsome foreign man.

- And her husband.
- Not pictured.

Je m'appelle...

Ooh! Continental.

Baudelaires, so happy to see you,
and in such stylish circumstances.

An unemployed librarian
came into my office

who had her doubts
about you living in high society.

Now that I see you eating
in a stylish restaurant,

I know you'll be properly cared for

by the city's seventh most powerful
financial adviser.

Sixth!

- Sixth! Sixth most...
- Sixth. Sixth.

Mr. Poe, it's important we speak with you.

It's important I speak
with the lady with flashy camera.

It's true that you're deciding
which restaurant is in und which is out?

The Daily Punctilio
has an impeccable reputation.

We predicted the outcome
of two of the last nine elections.

Would you like a hot tip
on the next restaurant to be in?

- From a handsome foreign man? Do tell!
- Right this way.

If you're here,
who's looking for the Quagmires?

An excellent question, Klaus.

You remember my administrative assistant,
Jacquelyn.

- Of course.
- We've seen her in a movie.

And a labyrinth.

And in my office.

She asked for a lunch
to celebrate Secretary's Day.

I was in the mood
for some vigorously fancy dining.

So we can all sit back and relax,

because everything is going
according to plan.

Plan?

- Suction cups.
- Suction cups.

Non-slippery shoes.

Non-slippery shoes.

Safety rope.

- I have a question about the rope.
- It attaches to your waist.

Then what does it attach to?
The building? The fire escape?

Me.

So, Jacques Snicket, we go down together.

No, Olivia Caliban, we go up together.

I'm back! Oh! Did I miss the entire lunch?

You didn't even miss the first course,

which is creamy salmon soup
with a hint of salmon

and the eye of a salmon
hidden in the bottom.

Keep your eyes peeled.

I hope we find the Quagmires soon
and that these ropes are sturdy.

The next course is salmon sabayon,

which I'll pour very slowly
from this little pitcher

that looks like a salmon throwing up.

We're just gonna sorta dance
this around a little bit.

Salmon bread
served with salmon butter

distilled from the head
of a freshly caught salmon.

What am I tasting here?

Rutabaga.

The life cycle of the salmon is not unlike
the life cycle of human beings,

in that it begins in cozy circumstances,

gets progressively colder,
and often ends in suffering and tragedy.

Now this salmon here was burned alive.

One of the most difficult aspects
of a salmon's life cycle

is when they swim upstream to spawn,
a word which here means

"spend quality time
with the salmon they love most."

Swimming upstream
is a difficult thing to do,

because you are swimming
against the current.

The Baudelaires felt as if they were
swimming upstream at Café Salmonella,

and not just because they were surrounded
by so much salmon.

- Gravlax!
- Gravlax?

- Salmon.
- Ah.

They were swimming against the current

of everyone believing Olaf was
a foreign man named Gunther.

Gunther, your culture is so interesting.

Not like other countries that make me
feel guilty and uncomfortable.

Jerome, have you noticed
anything about Gunther?

He has a bit of an accent.

- Something more suspicious than an accent.
- Baudelaires, I'm surprised at you.

Do you know what "xenophobia" means?

Phobia means "the fear of,"
like podophobia means "the fear of feet."

Yes, but xenophobia
is the fear of strangers

because they come from different places
or happen to eat different foods...

Salmon tail salad

- with some salmon skin croutons.
- Lovely.

- Ooh!
- Ooh.

I never expected you children
to be xenophobic.

Your parents weren't afraid of anything.

You should've seen your mother
when she fought that eagle.

She was a remarkable woman.

I just wish that I'd listened to her more.

Why did you lose touch?

- There's many factors...
- Make way for an important reporter.

I just phoned in a hot scoop
that will really elevate our readership.

Elevate our... Elevate our...

Elevator... Elevator...
Elevate our readership.

What did you say?

I said,
"Important reporter coming through."

You're thinking.

It could be nothing,
but it could be everything.

Can we get back to 667 Dark Avenue?

Not until you get through
the entire life cycle of the salmon.

This is, how do I say,

the end, il finito, el end de lunch
de salmono, please. Please!

Please, sir. There are more floors,
I mean courses, to go.

We can't leave now.

Eating too much food for too much money
is the essence of civilization.

Nothing would make me leave this place!

Café Salmonella is out!
Herring Houdini is in!

Finally!

I'm putting the orphans in doggy bag
to take home.

What are you talking about?
It's time to eat!

- After a meal like that...
- Hurry, hurry, hurry.

Before anyone else sees us eating in this
hole-in-the-wall! This place is so out!

This is our chance.

Jerome, that place is fishy.

Don't eat or drink anything they give you.

I never want to eat
or drink anything fishy again.

- It's no use!
- We're swimming upstream!

Where...

Donner, party of five? Donner?

You did it again, Eleanora.
Look at this crowd.

Every journalist knows
when a foreign man gives you a tip,

you should believe him without question.

- Right this way, rich people!
- Oh!

You're certain there's no herring in this?

- I promise.
- Oh, thank God.

This isn't working.
You need to shut this place down.

Are you kidding?
We're booked through February.

Never mind that! Where are the orphans?

Ow! God!

We've searched 45 floors.
No sign of the Quagmires.

Let's hope we get lucky in the penthouse.

What Mrs. Poe said about elevators
got me thinking.

On every other floor there is
one elevator, but here there's two.

There has to be an explanation.

Maybe it's where Count Olaf
hid the Quagmires.

No platform, no console, no cables
or electromagnetic braking system.

- There's no elevator at all.
- The elevator's ersatz.

- It's just a long dark tunnel.
- A shaft.

The Quagmires got kidnapped
while trying to help us.

- It's our fault they're gone.
- It's not.

- It is if we don't rescue them.
- We will.

Mmm! Mmm-mmm-mmm.

This food is so much better than all that
other delicious food at that other place.

Excuse me.

They disappeared.

We've managed to lure everyone else
except for the orphans.

We'll skip dessert, please.

Yes. Yes, this food is so in,

it's actually hard to be in my mouth.

What do you think, Jerome?

I'm sorry. I'm feeling so sleepy.
It must be something I drank.

You can sleep it off on way home.
Hurry to penthouse

to make sure nothing has been stolen
during the afternoon.

You're not going anywhere...

until you entertain us with a song.

What?

Didn't that man work at the other place?

My sources have learned
you're quite the chanteuse.

No, that's the lighting.
My skin is regular foreign color.

He's being modest.

Gunther's songbird skills have earned him

more or less favorable reviews
in one small magazine.

No, no.
You must be thinking of other foreign man.

Why, you'd have to launch
a citywide manhunt

to catch a singer this good.

Won't you please grace the crowd
at this in restaurant with a little song?

I know the readers of the Daily Punctilio

would love to hear about a man from
a foreign country singing in a restaurant.

Mmm, mmm, mmm! Publicity.

Some music will help me
digest my fish heads.

No! No! No! Absolutely... What's the word?
Never as long as I live.

Pretty please?

For Secretary's Day?

For Secretary's Day!

For Secretary's Day! For Secretary's Day!

For Secretary's Day!
For Secretary's Day!

For Secretary's Day!

For Secretary's Day! For Secretary's Day!

- For Secretary's Day!
- For Secretary's Day!

If you insist.

Mind the tempo on the bridge
and watch me for the key changes.

Let's hear it for the band!

Ow.

You nervous?

I'm anxious.
I'm not sure if I'm ready to do this.

Me neither.

If we wait until we're ready,
we'll wait the rest of our lives.

- Duncan!
- Isadora!