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As you probably know, children can often be rude and bratty. Of course, this is not always applicable to children like Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire, but it is applicable to children like Carmelita Spats. Carmelita Spats is always rude and bratty and (sadly) first entered the unlucky lives of the Baudelaires during their semester at Prufrock Prepretory School. She joined Count Olaf and Esme Squalor in their horrible schemes after being adopted by the uncaring villans. Carmelita had a large frown on her round, cherry-red face as she watched her adoptive 'father' pace around her in distraught circles.

"What are we going to do?" Count Olaf wheezed, looking at Esme and Carmelita with his beady, gleeming eyes, "Those wretched orphans have gotten away again!"

Esme looked at her red nails and huffed impatiently, "Thinking about a bunch of useless, dirty orphans isn't very in at the moment, darling," she said. She wrapped her long arm around Carmelita and quickly added something as she watched Olaf grow angry, "But-! Kidnapping is very, very in..." her tone was endearing to the irratable Count.

The term 'smiling as wide as a cheshire cat' comes from mainly from the tale of Alice in Wonderland. If you haven't already gathered, it would probably be better if you read a story like Alice in Wonderland rather than this series of unfortunate events. A story about a young girl finding herself in a strange land may not be too interesting for some people, but it is far better than wailing and screaming in sympathy for the pained lives of the Baudelaire siblings. However, the term 'smiling as wide as a cheshire cat' is very fitting to describe the grin Count Olaf sported during that fateful moment.

This was the moment that ruined the mentality of Klaus Baudelaire forever...

"That's it! Ho, ho, ho!" he cried, bursting into a fit of crackly laughter, "Of course!" he shook his head and clapped.

Carmelita stomped her foot on the floor and huffed. Esme frowned at her 'daughter' -being dissapointed, "What is it, my cute, adorable princess?" the bodacious lady asked, bending down to be level height with her.

Instead of being concerned about the wellbeing of any three of the Baudelaire children, which she unluckily should have been, she was only concerned about the money her 'family' would recieve. The little snarky girl clammered her feet in a temper tantrum.

"We've tried kidnapping them before!" she cried, with a forged sniffle and an equally fake sob, "How are we going to do that if we don't even know where the cakesniffers are?!"

"Well, they surely can't be too far away!" Olaf said, although he was very doubtful. Even with his hatered towards the Baudelaires, he knew they were very clever and bright children, who where probably far away with another V.F.D. nuicance before the V.F.D gathering on Thursday.

"Honestly," Esme sighed, putting her hands on her hips, "I don't want all three orphans being kidnapped. Those out-smarty pantses will find some way to escape if they're all coluding..."

This only made the angry and irritable more cantankerous (a word which means angry and irritable). Count Olaf furrowed his one, bushy eyebrow and huffed. He rubbed the little goatee on his chin and groaned.

"Oh! Oh!" Carmelita piped up, "I know, County! I know!" her fake tears had all been 'cried' away and she was now grinning as if she herself was a cheshire cat and bouncing in her spot.

"What is it, Carmelita?" He turned his head towards her waiting to see what she had in mind - even of he was sure it would be no help to him or the situation.

"We only need one of the ugly cakesniffing brats to get the fortune!" she smiled, waiting her usual ego-boosting praise.

Esme smiled in return and patted her 'daughter's' red hair, "That's so clever! Isn't that clever of her, darling?" she urged to Olaf.

"Ugh," Olaf nodded, "Very clever- But which orphan do we take? They're all as bad as eachother..." he wheezed again.

"What about the baby?" asked Esme.

"We already tried that back up on the Mortmain Mountains and she'll take the longest to come of age," he said impatiently. He scoffed and tapped his foot, "What about the other girl? She'll be of age in just three years..."

"Olaf!" Esme exlaimed, covering Carmelita's ears as if she was a pure, innocent soul, "That girl will make our precious Carmelita feel like she has competition!" she removed her plush fingers away from the sides of Carmelita's face.

"So," Olaf said, "That leaves the boy, what do you call him?" he knitted his brow into a frown, before smirking triumphantly, "Klyve!" he jeered.

"Klaus," Esme corrected.

"Whatever, since when do you care?" Olaf quipped back, deflated, "Now, we need to hurry! Those parent-less brats are getting further away from my-"

"Our!" Esme exlaimed, "Our..."

"Our clutches," The villan sighed, "We need a scheme, urgently."

Carmelita smiled mischievously, "What do we do with the others?" she snickered behind her hand, "Do we make the little cakesniffers suffer? Oooh! I know! We ca-"

"Forget about them," he said with disregared, "They aren't needed anymore."

Count Olaf looked at Esme, "Do you have any ideas in that brain?" he asked.

Her villanous eyes gleemed, "Of course, I d-" she began.

"About the orphans..." Olaf clarified.

"Oh! No. None at all," she admitted carelessly. Esme gave zero cares when it came to the Baudelaires, all she wanted was her dear-sweet sugar bowl. Whatever she had to do to get it was just another casualty in Esme's little world.

"God!" Count Olaf snapped, he huffed and puffed as if he was the big bad wolf in the story of the three little pigs, a tale that is much happier than this one, "Do you!?" he shouted to Carmelita.

She hugged Esme's waist, "Mommmyyy! County's yelling again!" her fake tears glossed him her beady, greedy eyes. Again.

"Sorry, sorry," Olaf apologised - fake apologised - to the little girl he, regretably, adopted, "But, do you have any ideas?" he asked in a put-on tone of voice, a phrase which means 'as not to cause more drama with his spoiled daughter and girlfriend.'

"Hmmmmm" she pondered, not sure what to say, "I don't know." Carmelita didn't want to think - in her mind, it did no good and she was just a cute little girl that only gets the best of sucky situations.

"For the love of-" he took a deep breath and groaned, "Then be quiet while I do all the thinking."

The room was as quiet as a mouse. 'Quiet as a mouse' is a curious phrase, because most mice are quite loud and sqeak a lot. The phrase should be 'as quiet as a man in a crate to Peru' because, as I have learned, a man in a crate to Peru has no choice but to be silent.

"Eurika!" Olaf jeered, "Those cretants know all about the V.F.D. gathering at The Hotel Denouement on Thursday... We were already planning to infiltrate, we can nab that slimy little boy and escape with him!" His face was as bright as the Sun, of course that is hyperbale, because if his face was as bright as the Sun, Esme and Carmelita would be blind and burnt to a crisp. I'm sorry to say that didn't happen, "Why should we care about why V.F.D were gathering at that fancy hotel if we've got the orphan?" He had become desperate to the point where nothing mattered, he'd drag the whole world down for the Baudelaire fortune.

"But where are we to go afterwoods?" Esme groaned. People say it is rude to say rude things about someone's ideas when one has no ideas themselves, but Esme had made a valid point.

Olaf rolled his eyes, "Can't you come up with that? Surely, you must know some place secluded and far away from civilization?" he asked, anger laced in his wheezy voice.

"Well," Esme began through gritted teeth, "There is ONE place I may or may not know of..." she whispered.

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"Where?!" Olaf yelled, grabbing Esme's wrist, "Tell me, damn it!" the distraught Count cried in his crackly tone.

Esme forced her wrist away and scoffed. She adjusted her wavy, blond hair and gave Olaf a look of utter disgrace. Her large, red lips were tied into a pout and she knitted her brows together, "I am NOT one of your stupid Baudelaire orphans! You don't need to wrangle me to get information from me. It's not very in right now, Olaf," she said, snobbishly like every other thing she had ever done and ever will do.

Olaf meerly rolled his eyes, "I couldn't care less about whatever you think is 'in' or 'out' or 'upside down', Esme! Just spit it out!" he demanded.

"Fine!" Esme spat, her voice seething with a poisonous malace, "A few years ago, before I lived at 667 Dark Avenue, I owned a home in the woods on a hill up south. You see, I didn't want to say it because it isn't in to live like that anymore. I promise back then it was the innest in thing that had ever been in. People crazed over the idea of being so rich that you could build your own mansion in the woods far enough away from the world that you couldn't hear the shrieking of cats being banged against walls at protests," she explained.

Raising his eyebrow, Olaf grinned into his girlfriend's eyes - his passion for the city's sixth most important financial adviser returning once again. He traised his bony hand up her arm and grunted.

"Any clue how far it is from here?" he asked, his suggestive grin wider than his whole face, "Or if there is any homeless beggers are staying there since it isn't technically a legal piece of property?" he asked again.

"Eck!" Carmelita said, sticking her tongue out. This was either at the mention of homeless people or Count Olaf's disgusting, flirtatious comments towards Esme. She crossed her arms, "Are we going to live in some jungle shack or not?" she asked, impatiently.

Esme gasped and pushed Olaf away from her. The frantic women immediately turned to the fussy girl, "Darling! I would never own a 'jungle shack'! I hired a bunch of Esme Squalor obsessees to build me a large house in the cleanest part of the forest," she sighed, putting a hand on Carmelita's cheek, "Never assume Mommy is a little hippie freak, yeah?"

"Are you two done?!" Olaf yelled again, "I need you to give me the location of this place, Esme. Talking to your dau-"

"OUR," Esme screeched, "Clementi- Carmelita, is OUR daughter," she scolded the Count, as if she hadn't just called her precious, dearest girl the wrong name.

"OUR daughter!" he put his head in his hands and let out a loud, crackly grunt, "Just give me the fucking location!" he bellowed, feeling anger turn inside his flaming core as Esme grew on his nerves even more as Carmelita.

Esme huffed and covered Carmelita's ears as Olaf cursed, "Alright! Once we reach the bottom of the Mortmain Mountains, we'll need to set off for 667 Dark Avenue, there's a map in the glove box, from there, we'll likely need to go on foot because driving a car through a non existant pathway isn't very inconspicuous. However, after a few minutes of walking up hill it becomes flat again, so we'll probably reach the house in ten minutes if we stop the car outside of The Diner Dresendo," she said in one big swig of air.

Olaf smiled.

"Happy now?" Esme groaned.

"Very," Count Olaf replied.

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I'm very sorry! BUT! (:3) I will update the next story more frequently and it will make more sense and have better plot/pacing. It will be on my account soon! :D

Thank you, stars!