The Penultimate Peril

"Don't you think you should bring your loot, Mrs. Bass?" asked Mr. Remora, pointing to the far wall of Room 371.

"No, no," Mrs. Bass said quickly, her eyes blinking nervously through the holes in the mask. "It'll be safer in the room."

Su

"I'm very excited about my recital," Vice Principal Nero said, as the small elevator began its journey to the ninth story. "I'm sure all of the music critics at the cocktail party will love my performance. As soon as I'm recognized as a genius, I can finally quit my job at Prufrock Prep!"

"How do you know there will be music critics at the party?" Mr. Remora asked. "My invitation just said there'd be an all-you-can-eat banana buffet."

"Mine didn't say anything about music critics, either," Mrs. Bass said. "It just says that there's a party in celebration of the metric system, and that I should bring as many valuables as possible so they could be measured. As a teacher, I don't earn enough money to purchase any valuables, so I had to resort to a life of crime."

"/ had to resort to a life of crime," Nero mimicked. "I can't believe a genius like myself was invited to the same party as you two. Esme Squalor and her boyfriend must have accidentally mailed you those invitations."

Su

"Nine," she said.

"Nine," Nero mimicked, and pushed his way to the front so he could exit the elevator first. Su

"Can I help you?" asked a wavering voice, and Su

"Can I help you?" Nero mimicked. "Of course you can help us! We're starving!"

"I didn't realize this was a sad occasion," said Hal, squinting through his glasses.

"It won't be a sad occasion if you feed us," Mr. Remora said.

Hal frowned, as if Mr. Remora had given the wrong response, but he quickly ushered the three guests to a wooden table in the otherwise deserted restaurant. "We are proud to serve a wide variety of Indian dishes," he said, handing out menus and pouring everyone a glass of water. "The culinary history of the region is quite interesting, actually. When the British-"

"I'll have ten grams of rice," Mrs. Bass interrupted, "one tenth of a hectogram of shrimp vindaloo, a dekagram of chana aloo masala, one thousand centigrams of tandoori salmon, four samosas with a surface area of ninteen cubic centimeters, five deciliters of mango lassi, and a sada rava dosai that's exactly nineteen centimeters long."

Su

"I'll have forty-eight orders of fried bananas," he said, after much thought.

"Interesting choice," Hal commented. "And you, sir?"

"A bag of candy!" Vice Principal Nero demanded. Su

"Candy is not a traditional Indian dish," Hal said. "If you're not sure what to order, allow me to recommend the combination plate."

"Allow me to recommend the combination plate!" Nero mimicked, glaring at Hal. "Never mind. I won't eat anything! It's probably dangerous to eat candy from foreigners!"

Hal did not reply to this bout of xenophobia-a word for a fear or disgust of foreign cultures that Jerome Squalor had taught the Baudelaires a while ago-but merely nodded. "Your lunches will be ready shortly," he said. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

"I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," Nero mimicked immediately, as Hal walked through a pair of swinging doors. With a sigh, he moved his water glass off his placemat and onto the wooden table, where it was sure to leave a ring, and turned to the two teachers. "That foreigner'shead reminds me of that nice man Coach Genghis."

"Nice man?" Mr. Remora asked. "If I remember correctly, he was a notorious villain in disguise."

Mrs. Bass reached up and nervously adjusted her wig. "Just because someone is a criminal," she said, "does not mean they're not a nice person. Besides, if you're on the run from the law, you're bound to get cranky from time to time."

"Speaking of ru

"We'll talk about that later," he said quickly, and then turned to Su

Su