Quigley twirled his gun and shoved it into his pocket, puffing on a cigarette. Behind him, Carmen fawned over Val. "Oh come on, honey, be a good girl and let my style your hair." Val groaned. "Aunt Carm, I already let you shove me into this way-too-showy dress, which is more than what I usually let you do." Carmen twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. "Please, that dress barely shows any skin."

Cassie strode into the room, dragging Violet along with her. "Val. Come. Now."

"What do you need, mom?"

Cassie tied her daughter to the wooden chair, and pulled a rusty old key out of her pocket. "Well, darling, I have an old friend of mine that I'm sure Violet would love to meet, and he's here to talk to you." Violet shifted. "Who is it?"

Cassie unlocked the door, and a filthy, dirty shadow crossed the threshold. "Ah, Violet. Still as mechanical as ever, it's a wonder you haven't become a machine yourself. Yet. Anyways, it is I"

"Count Olaf?"