Free A Series of Unfortunate Events: The Ersatz Elevator by Lemony Snicket

kind of doorman are you?" "Actually, I'm an actor," the doorman said, "but I was still able to follow your instructions." Esme gave the doorman a stern look she probably used when giving people financial advice. "Your instructions have changed," she said. "Your new instructions are to let me and my orphans go directly to my seventy-one-bedroom apartment. Got it, buster?" "Got it," the doorman replied meekly. "Good," Esme said, and then turned to the children. "Hurry up, kids," she said. "Violet and what's-his-name can each take a crate of soda, and Jerome will take the rest. I guess the baby won't be very helpful, but that's to be expected. Let's get a move on." The Baudelaires got a move on, and in a few moments the three children and the two adults were trekking up the sixty-six-floor-long staircase. The youngsters were hoping that Esme might help carry the heavy crates of soda, but the city's sixth most important financial advisor was much more interested in telling them all about her meeting with the King of Arizona than in buttering up any orphans. "He told me a long list of new things that are in," Esme squealed. "For one thing, grapefruits. Also bright blue cereal bowls, billboards with photographs of weasels on them, and plenty of other things that I will list for you right now." All the way up to the penthouse, Esme listed the new in items she had learned about from His Arizona Highness, and the two Baudelaire sisters listened carefully the whole time. They did not listen very carefully to Esme's very dull speech, of course, but they listened closely at each curve of the staircase, double-checking their eavesdropping to hear if Gunther was indeed behind one of the apartment doors. Neither Violet nor Sunny heard anything suspicious, and they would have asked Klaus, in a low whisper so the Squalors couldn't hear them, if he had heard any sort of Gunther noise, but they could tell from his idiosyncrasy that he was still thinking very hard about something and wasn't listening to the noises in the other apartments any more than he was listening to automobile tires, cross-country skiing, movies with waterfalls in them, and the rest of the in things Esme was rattling off. "Oh, and magenta wallpaper!" Esme said, as the Baudelaires and the Squalors finished a dinner of in foods washed down with parsley soda, which tasted even nastier than it sounds. "And triangular picture frames, and very fancy doilies, and garbage cans with letters of the alphabet stenciled all over them, and--" "Excuse me," Klaus said, and his sisters jumped a little bit in surprise. It was the first time Klaus had spoken in anything but a mumble since they had been down in the lobby. "I don't mean to interrupt, but my sisters and I are very tired. May we be excused to go to bed?" "Of course," Jerome said. "You should get plenty of rest for the auction tomorrow. I'll take you to the Veblen Hall at ten-thirty sharp, so--" "No you won't," Esme said. "Yellow paper clips are in, Jerome, so as soon as the sun rises, you'll have to go right to the Stationery District and get some. I'll bring the children." "Well, I don't want to argue," Jerome said, shrugging and giving the children a small smile. "Esme, don't you want to tuck the children in?" "Nope," Esme answered, frowning as she sipped her parsley soda. "Folding blankets over three wriggling children sounds like a lot more trouble than it's worth. See you tomorrow, kids." "I hope so," Violet said, and yawned. She knew that Klaus was asking to be excused so he could tell her and Sunny what he had been thinking about, but after lying awake the previous night, searching the entire penthouse, and tiptoeing down all those stairs, the eldest Baudelaire was actually quite tired. "Good night, Esme. Good night, Jerome." "Good night, children," Jerome said. "And please, if you get up in the middle of the night and have a snack, try not to spill your food. There seem to be a lot of crumbs around the penthouse lately."