When Jerome met Esme (by me, Kitty and Jessy)

[Lillie]

This was written by Me!

A woman casually glanced through the newspaper while sipping an aqueous martini. To my knowledge, she was not looking for what she found; she being a concieted woman, was mearly looking for a mention of herself. What she did find however, was an insignificant mention of very rich man, in a very large penthouse. And this glance would lead to one of the biggest disasters in VFD history.

To my knowledge, there were only three people glancing at that story on that particular morning. One was the woman, who was not casually glancing anymore, the second was a man looking for an address, not casually looking either, and the third was the man the artical was about, looking quite casually at the mention of himself, as he prepared for work.

Although he was being followed this morning, and the man looking for the address has told me numerous times the couse he took that particular day, only the woman did anything of particular interest, and that was pick up the phone, and dial a number she had dialed many times before, and spoke six words which still haught me in my sleep, "Hello Olaf," she said, "I have a plan."
A week later, a sleepy reporter, who was also being followed on that morning, walked to the end of her driveway to collect the paper and the mail. In her sleepy state, she shuffled through the mail not really noticing anything, until a name caught her eye.
"Oh My!," she screamed "I must see to this right away!"
She was barely inside the door before she ripped open the letter and began to read. From the pile of ashes that once was the letter I have spent many tediouis hour deciphering , and I was able to come up with this message:
Dear Ms. Jullianie,
I am the fabulous and very in Esme Gigi Genevive (burned)
I am writing in responce to your letter about Mr. Jerome Squalor. I would like to know if he is still available and if he still lives in penthouse apartment at 667 Dark Avenue. Be prompt, I need this information right away so I can move on to more "in" things.
Esme Gigi Genevive (burned)

Quickly, Ms. Jullianie happily wrote to Esme that, as far as she knew, Mr. Squalor and his apartment were both available, and she gave her a phone number where he could be reached, and a picture of Mr. Squalor standing in frout of his apartment with a doorman in the backround. As she sealed the envelope, she turned the corner to drop the letter in a close-by mail box. Had she done so, many problems could have been avoided, but she did not. She insted decided to deliver it personally, hoping to catch a glimpes of her favorite star, sealing the fate of two triplets, and three Baudelaires siblings.

[Lillie]

This was written by Kitty.

Esme who casually glanced quitly through the newpaper while sipping small bits of her aqueous martini. I do know she was looking for Mr.Squalor to flirt and make him fall for her. And she did find him waiting for a girl. I know that she wanted moneyand she didn't think before she killed the girl waiting for Mr.Squalor. So she smiled, flirted and ask if he wanted an aqueous martini.

To my knowledge she did ask him to marry her and I do know he and yes, with no haste at all, if he had stoped to think of what he was doing he should have stoped one of the biggest disasters in V.F.D history. She would now be Mrs. Squalor that very night.

The six words are haughting me right now it's going around in my brain, Hello Olaf, I have a plan, Hello Olaf, I have a plan. Esme was now rich and had a penthouse. There she would think of a plan to kiddnapp and kill the Baudelaires and the three triplets to get the two fortunates. But Mr. Squalor wanted to spend time with her and spent each sencod of his life with her, what he didn't know was she wanted the money. And I do know but he still does not know what happened to the girl he was going to meet the night got marryed to Esme.

[Lillie]

This was written by fun_lovin_jessy

Jerome took a long and tedious three days to unpack all of Esme's 34 suitcases into her four bedrooms, as he kept getting lost in the 71-roomed penthouse. But anything to please Esme, as he could not imagine life without her.
He really was in love with her, and he could even imagine putting up with those horrid Aqueous Martinis for the rest of his life just to be with her, but it was only on their second day of living together that the first big blow hit them.

Esme grimaced as Jermone gave her a hug to celebrate her moving in, but didn't have to grit her teeth for too long as the door bell clanged in a distant room. She leapt out of her chair, to the great surprise of Jerome and rushed to the sound of the doorbell.
She took a good ten minutes to reach the door, only to find two weary, drained looking policemen awaiting an answer. She did a double take when she saw them, but immediately planted a big smile on her face and welcomed the policemen into her home.
She questioned the out-of-breath men as to why they were doubled over panting, and the first constable replied " Sorry ma'am, the elevators out of order."
"No it isn't!" Esme sharply replied "It is 'OUT', and you think I would allow that, good gosh no!"
The policemen exchanged puzzled glances, and sat down on the leapord skin sofa.
"We have to ask you a few questions, miss" The second constable stated.
"Where were you on Wednesday evening?"
Esme quickly looked around to check Jerome wasn't eavesdropping, and said "I haven't the faintest idea what you are referring to sir, but I was... visting.. a very um sick aunt who lives very far from here so I couldn't possibly have done it."
"Done what?" The first policeman replied.
"What you are asking me about" Esme said quickly.
The policeman looked across at his colleague and nodded. The second constable withdrew a piece of paper from his blazer pocket.
"Do you recognize this man?" The policeman asked Esme who was beginning to get anxious.
The piece of paper had three pictures on it, one of a woman sitting behind a reception, with a big painting of an eye behind her. The second of a man who resembled a Sailor and the third of a man wearing joggers, and a turban on his head.
Esme immediately recognized the three pictures, but had to keep the confused expression on her face as not to give away her secret.
"N..no constable I have never seen this man.. i mean these people, before in my life, ever.."
"We'll see about that." The first constable said.
"And we shall take you down to the station to question you upon the whereabouts of Esmerelda Quagmire, who was last seen waiting outside the restaurant you were dining at on Wednesday evening, and the burning down of the Quagmire mansion, which claimed the life of her husband Isaac Quagmire. And you had better tell us the location of their son Quigley, who narrowley escaped the fire only to be thrown into the back of a long black automobile and separated from his brother and sister. Or you will enjoy a life-long prison sentence."

[Lillie]

Ok here is the last bit people, enjoy!

The gentleman mentioned in the newspaper was sitting down for a nice quiet dinner in one of the hundreds of kitchens he owned. He didn't particularly like the house, but the relator insisted that this was the house for him, and since he didn't like to argue, he had purchased it. He was just about to take a bite into a delicious stuffed cabbage, one of his favorite foods, when the telephone rang. He picked up one of the thousands of phones in the apartment, and on it was the second-most terrifying voices I have ever heard.
"Hello," said a woman on the other end of the phone, "I'm am Esme Gigi Geneve, oh, never mind. I insist that you pick me up at seven o' clock tonight for dinner at Cafe Salmonela."
"But," Jerome said, "I don't even know you. Wouldn't it be more convinient to meet on some other ocasion?"
"Listen to me," Esme commanded in a low whisper. "I am the city's sixth most important financial advisor, and what I say goes, got it?"
"Well," said Jerome halfheartedly, "I don't want to argue with you. I suppose I could pick you up at seven."
"Good," Esme replied. "I live at..."
The rest of the conversation was not recorded, but through two weeks of dedicated reaserch, I have not found any evidence suggesting that anything of importance was said. However, it is more important what happened on the other end of the telephone, and I do not mean Jerome or Esme. The man I am speaking of was the man recording the conversation, and the reason he recorded no more was that he realized there were more pressing matters to take care of. Very quickley, he began to write a frantic letter to Jerome, but due to unfortunate circumstances at the post office, the letter never arrived. If you are not a person in disguse, you might be unaware of how many people in this world are in disguise. Jerome was not in disguse, so he had no idea that the water at Cafe Salmonela was in disguise. Esme was in a disguise, but her disguise was not a costume, she was just pretending she was something she was not. Luckily, it took some time for her to realize that the waiter was in disguise, and there happened to be an evsdropping parot sitting at the next table, so I was able to obtain much of the conversation, and write it down here.
Esme: So Jerome, you just moved into the penthouse at 667 dark avenue?
Jerome: Yes, I did. Although I'm not sure what to do with all of that room. My friend insisted I purchase it.
Esme: I can think of something you could do with that room. You could share....
Waiter: (runs up, is panting) Would.... You.... Like... To... Order?
Jerome: Yes. Do you have anything other then salmon?
Esme: Of course not Jerome! You must order salmon!
Jerome: Oh, okay. I guess I'll have the salmon steak and potatoes.
Waiter: And for you miss?
Esme: I will have the salmon fille with an aqueos martini. Jerome, have you ever considered getting married?
Waiter: Excellent choice, and any side orders or desserts?
Esme: No. Now leave us alone. Have you, Jerome?
Jerome: No, not really, why?
Waiter: I insist you order something else. We have a wide variety of salmon things here. They're all very in.
Esme: No! Get away! I was thinking perhaps we should get married. Waiter! I told you to leave!
Jerome: Marrage seems like such a big comitment. I mean, we just met!
Esme: I insist we get married tomorrow! I'm not going to argue with you.
Waiter: I didn't realize this was a sad occasion.
Jerome: Well, I don't want to argue...
Esme: Then don't! I have already made the plans. We will get married at the Valley of... Waiter! Why are you still here! You're leaning in far too close! Is that a microphone?!!? Give me that.
And it was with the horrible proposal of Esme, that for the fifth and final time I was unable to marry Beatrice. We couldn't stop him, and we couldn't warn him, so Jerome married Esme.

[.:Yuna:.]

*claps*

[Lillie]

yuna said:

*claps*

Thanks! *blushes*