It's a catastrophe! It's unprecedented!
It's off-book! It's unfortunate!
The Baudelaires are lost and unsupervised!
Do you know what that means?
-Without supervision? -Good God, man, you're right!
We must act now. We must act without delay.
We...
need...
We need...
Oh!
Oh, my.
Oh, my. This is excellent chowder.
Mmm, mmm. Good.
Oh, God...
I hope Mr. Poe isn't too worried about us.
Good point.
If you like watching stories
in which children enjoy pleasant rides in truck beds,
on their way to colorful destinations...
What the gum?
where they finally solve
the curious mysteries plaguing their lives...
Get a job, hitchhikers!
that story is streaming elsewhere.
-What now? -We walk.
It's okay, Sunny. I got you.
We're almost out of the woods.
"Out of the woods" is an expression
referring to the fact that woods are dangerous places to be.
In Hansel and Gretel...
two siblings enter the woods and are menaced by an elderly cannibal.
In Little Red Riding Hood, a wolf enters the woods
and is menaced by a rude little girl.
And in Walden,
a poet enters the woods and is menaced by revelations
that we should abandon civilization and live by a pond.
It is for that reason that "out of the woods" has come to mean
"a return to safety, away from menace and disturbing revelations."
I am sorry to say while Violet was right
in that the Baudelaires were almost out of the forest...
they were far from out of the woods.
It looks like there was a fire here.
- Everything's gone. - Not everything.
"Lucky Smells Lumbermill."
Maybe this is where all the clues lead us.
The secret safe and the strange photographs at Aunt Josephine's.
The secret message and the strange statue lady at Uncle Monty's.
The only thing standing between us and all our parents' secrets...
is an enormous wooden wall.
What if we don't like what we find? Knowing can be a terrible thing.
But not knowing, isn't that worse?
I bet I could invent a catapult to get us over.
I read about walls.
The Wall of Jericho, the Great Wall of China.
All I need is a lever, a counterweight and a very large spoon.
Pink Floyd's The Wall.
Although Mother wouldn't let me watch that one.
Sunny?
-Does this make us trespassers? -We're children.
Those aren't mutually exclusive.
If we get caught, we'll just say we were on a school trip. Come on.
What exactly are we looking for?
It's like Father said about fine art.
We'll know it when we see it.
I think we're in the right place.
Or the very, very wrong place.
-It could just be a coincidence. -It could be Count Olaf.
Maybe we should leave.
Forgive me. I thought you might be trespassers.
But now I see you're just children.
-They're not mutually-- -We're on a school trip.
Right, because we're schoolchildren.
Well, this lumbermill is hardly a safe place for children.
And I should know, I run it. I'm Charles.
Do you recognize any of these people?
I think you better come and see my partner.
Do you know what happened to the town over there?
Well, it's a sad story. Paltryville used to be booming.
We had a world food market, two hot yoga studios,
and there was even talk of a water park.
The name Paltryville was a misnomer.
And then one day, the whole town burned down in a terrible fire.
Luckily, the lumbermill survived... and the eye-shaped building,
which actually belongs to... Oh, look, here we are.
Uh, children, I'd like you to meet...
Call me Sir.
Everybody does 'cause I tell 'em to. I'm the boss.
They have to do what I say, even my partner here.
Doesn't "partner" mean "equal"?
Well, in fact, "partners" can mean several things.
It could mean "two people who own a lumbermill together, or a cupcakery."
Now, with the advent of more progressive cultural mores,
not to mention certain High Court rulings, it could also mean...
I do all the work. He irons my clothes.
I also cook your omelets.
The definitions are not mutually exclusive.
I found them wandering unsupervised, poor dears.
Well, you know what we do with trespassers, don't you, Charles?
But they're only children.
I thought we could take them in. Give them a loving, normative home.
Nonsense.
I believe you treat children like grown-ups.
Put 'em to work in the mill. It'll teach them responsibility.
It'll teach them the value of hard work.
And it'll teach 'em how to make flat wooden boards out of trees.
-But, Sir-- -Don't argue with me. We're partners.
If we work in the mill, do we get to stay here?
"Get to"?
This one gets it.
In this economy, children are lucky to have a job at all.
-What's your name, young lady? -Violet... Baudelaire.
-A Baudelaire. -Wait, do you... do you know that name?
Of course I do.
Every man, woman and child in Paltryville knows the name Baudelaire.
Why? Did you know our parents?
Who are the other people in this photograph?
I don't understand what "ack" means,
but if you want to know about your parents, they--
Sir.
Every time we're about to get some answers.
Seriously?
It's these cigars.
I hate the things, but I can't quit smoking 'em. I'm the boss.
Now, where was I?
Oh, yeah. There's a reason this town will never forget your parents.
They're the ones that burned it down.
Our parents did what?
I'm an important man. Don't make me repeat myself.
They burned down the town!
They're, um... not anywhere nearby, are they?
They died... in a fire.
Good.
What goes around comes around.
It's a terrible thing, startin' a fire.
Why are you still standing there? You got work to do in the morning.
Tell me, truck driver, you're sure there were three of them?
I'm sure I'm sure.
A tall girl, a boy with glasses
and a little baby who I think bit a hole in my spare tire.
And did they seem like orphans with an enormous fortune?
I don't know about that.
They snuck into my truck and I threw 'em out
maybe 2.5 miles outside of Paltryville,
- like I told you. - Paltryville.
-You've been there before? -Mmm. It's been years.
-Tell me, truck driver-- -I said my name was Evander.
Did you ever know a woman, truck driver, who took your heart
and rattled it like a baby in a cage?
Who joined you for years on a sequence of heists and schemes
until the two of you were forced apart by circumstance,
and also because you ran off
in the middle of the night with a bunch of her valuables?
Uh, no, I've been in the lumber industry all my life.
Hmm.
You can let me off here, in the middle of town.
For you.
Seriously?
That night in the lumbermill workers' dorm,
the Baudelaires pondered what they'd heard,
and the weight of it felt like it had aged them a hundred years.
Though, of course, it hadn't.
Did you hear about the new recruits?
-They're Baudelaires. -I hear their folks were arsonists.
I hear they checked out library books and never returned them.
I hear they drank blood from the skulls of chupacabras.
You mean they drank from baby skulls like chupacabras.
I know what I heard.
That's ridiculous. Did any of you actually meet our parents?
-I think Jimmy did. -Norma Rae is here longer.
Don't look at me. Look at Cesar.
Do you know anything about what happened to this town?
-We're not allowed to talk about that. -It's too terrible.
Also, we don't know.
Then you shouldn't be spreading rumors.
I never believed those rumors anyway.
So... where are your parents now?
We're orphans.
Lucky you!
The unsupervised life. No rules, no curfews.
Lights out. Two seconds.
But it's only six o'clock.
Oh, boy, more time for dreaming.
I'm Phil, and I am excited to work with you kids.
Thank you. I'm Violet. These are my siblings, Klaus and Sunny.
Listen, I... I know things seem dark.
But you have to look on the bright side.
So your parents burned down towns. You don't have to be like your parents.
My parents were Olympic athletes and look at me.
I work in a lumbermill.
From Phil's words,
the Baudelaires could tell that their new coworker was an optimist...
Who wants a welcome packet?
a word meaning "person who thinks hopeful thoughts
about even the bleakest situation."
For example, if an optimist were to have his right arm bitten off by an alligator,
he might say, "Oh, boy, half-price manicures for life."
Whereas the rest of us would say, "Ah, my arm!"
"Optimist" is not to be confused with "optometrist,"
a word meaning "healthcare professional who performs eye exams."
Though both can be dangerous.
Still, while they pored over the dense contents of their welcome packets
and poked at dense beef casserole with their welcome spoons,
the Baudelaires faced their first night in Paltryville
with some attempted optimism of their own.
Look. The mill has a library.
Maybe you can research what happened here and clear our parents' names.
Look. The mill has machines.
Maybe you could invent a way of making wooden planks out of trees faster.
What does it say it is?
Optimist's office.
I meant optometrist's office. Father always said he didn't trust either.
But what does an optometrist's office have to do with Count Olaf?
Maybe Phil was right.
We should look on the bright side.
This mill may be miserable,
but since we got here, we haven't seen Count Olaf once.
What if that eye really was a coincidence?
What if we've finally found a place where Count Olaf won't find us?
Wish I could say she was right, but Violet was asking the wrong questions.
The question she should have been asking was...
where does Count Olaf's ex-girlfriend work?
-Who is it? -I'm looking for a Dr. Orwell.
Um... who's calling, please?
I'm just an old friend.
Um, Dr. Orwell's not here right now.
And she doesn't have any old friends.
Ah, but this is an old friend who severely regrets his actions.
-Really? -Yes.
He's brokenhearted, and he wants very much to forget the whole thing.
So he isn't just knocking on Dr. Orwell's door
because he needs something for himself?
No. He's just in town, looking for Dr. Georgina Orwell,
in the hopes of somehow making things right.
Because life is so short, it is so rare to meet,
to find someone who shares one's brilliance, one's charm,
one's dubious moral code in a world gone gloriously wrong.
Such people must stick together like comrades, like partners, like...
You've changed your hair.
Olaf.
Georgina.
I swore I would never let you darken my door again.
I took a solemn oath that my office would be closed to you forever,
even during regular business hours.
You're not still mad about... whatever I did.
You left me to drown.
Water under the bridge.
-That's where you left me. -Are you sure that was you?
Sorry, I have my own life now, with my own evil scheme,
which I've put a lot of work into
and I don't need you ruining, like that bar mitzvah.
What if I told you we had another chance to destroy the Baudelaires?
The Baudelaires?
Well, their miserable children this time.
Fate has brought us together, my pet. Fate and fortune.
How big a fortune are we talking?
Is Sunny asleep?
She's dreaming about biting something. Why?
What Sir said about our parents.
-You don't think it could be true. -Of course not.
Then you agree what we have to do.
-Of course. Clear their names. -Get out of here. Wait, what?
If we clear their names, maybe we can finally get some answers.
-Maybe they wouldn't want us here. -Then they shouldn't have left us alone.
You know that's not what they did.
I'm sorry. I know it's not their fault.
And I know you're just trying to be cautious.
I guess we're not seeing eye to eye.
I wish they were here.
-Our parents. -I know.
I don't like this place either.
But staying is the best way to find out what our parents were hiding.
The best way to find out would be to ask them.
But we never can.
-We can't keep hiding like this. -You're right.
-Our enemies are too close already. -I mean from the children.
We can't keep hiding this part of our lives.
When we get back, we're gonna tell them everything.
What we do. Why we do it.
We need to make it back first. What do you think?
We're not out of the woods.
Morning is an important time of day,
because how you begin your morning can often tell you
what kind of day you're going to have.
If you wake up in a mansion to a butler serving you blueberry pancakes
and fresh-squeezed orange juice...
your day will probably be wonderful.
If you wake up in a lumbermill
to the sound of metal pots banging together...
Get up, lumber workers!
- This is your new foreman,
and you've got a new shipment of logs to turn into flat wooden boards.
What's that horrible noise?
It sounds like someone banging metal pots together.
I believe everyone has a good side.
But I have to admit, our last foreman was a lot nicer.
-What happened to your last foreman? -Must've quit in middle of the night.
It happens a lot around here.
Hurry up. It's log day.
I hate log days.
Now grab a debarker and start debarking.
You too, lumber midgets.
Oh, I love log day.
Lunch break, lumber slowpokes.
I hate log days.
Told ya!
We finally get a break.
Lunch break. Five minutes.
Oh, boy, five whole minutes.
It's gum. This is gum.
Gum isn't lunch. It's not even a snack.
It's not very filling, but it's all they'll let you eat until dinner.
Can we use our wages to buy some sandwiches?
Lady, we're not paid in wages.
We're paid in coupons.
I got one for 20% off a shampoo at Ed's Haircut Palace.
I got a free refill of iced tea.
I got "Buy two banjos, get one free."
'Course I can't buy any banjos 'cause I don't have any money.
Just coupons.
That can't be legal.
It's not like we have a constitution.
If this place is so miserable, why don't you leave?
Lucky Smells is our life. Lucky Smells is our home.
We need to find those answers and get out of here, fast.
According to the map, the mill library should be just behind...
behind this door.
Trying to get out of log day, are you?
We wanted to visit the library on our lunch break, Sir.
Oh, what a lovely idea.
I told you a library would be good for morale.
Nonsense.
Lunch breaks are for chewing gum, not sneaking off to libraries.
-That's why you only need five minutes. -But, Sir--
You're not gonna cause trouble for this mill, are you?
Trouble? I'm your partner.
-I'm speaking to the Baudelaires. -Right.
I took a chance on treating you like grown-ups.
Don't make me regret it. Now, get back to work!
You'll have to excuse Sir. He recently cut down on the smoking.
Do you know he feeds the workers gum and pays them in coupons?
Yes, well, I've tried to discuss that.
If you guys are partners, you should be able to stand up to him.
It's complicated.
I know Sir can be prickly,
but you have to understand, he had a very terrible childhood.
I understand.
I'm having a very terrible childhood right now.
Okay.
-You're thinking something. -It's the new foreman.
Phil said he just showed up last night.
What if he's Count Olaf and being a foreman's his new disguise?
He is cruel like Count Olaf,
but Count Olaf runs a horrible theater company, not a lumbermill.
But isn't it suspicious how we never see his face?
And we only ever hear his voice over the loudspeaker.
The mill is noisy.
Besides, it's probably the only way anyone could ever hear him.
I know what you're trying to do.
Keep us safe.
Find a reason to leave.
And we will, I promise, as soon as we clear our parents' names.
I... I need a new debarker.
-What are you doing, midget? -I... need a new debarker.
Spoiled brat wants a new debarker.
Old rusty one isn't good enough for him, eh?
They're over there, rich boy.
Wait...
-Whoopsie! -Klaus!
Your glasses, they're--
-Twisted. -Cracked.
Hopelessly broken.
They look A-okay to me.
The foreman kicked him and stepped on his glasses.
How could I kick him when I'm up in this booth?
It was probably karma.
-Can you see? -A little.
He'll live. Get back to work.
He can't work if he can't see. He needs an optometrist.
Lucky for you, we've got a great one right here in what's left of our town.
The building shaped like an eye?
Oh, yeah, Dr. Orwell treats all the workers.
You probably saw the coupon in your welcome packet.
I better get you there.
I'll be fine. Maybe I can find some answers.
Maybe I can find some answers, too.
Your cruelty is as sweet as this coffee I'm dumping this sugar into.
Oh, Georgina, I missed this.
You, me, an evil scheme, a little death.
La petite mort.
You know I love it when you speak Spanish.
Let's run away to Europe and find a charming little country to take over.
What about the children?
Shouldn't we live together first?
The Baudelaire children.
Hmm.
Oh!
Let me.
Dr. Orwell's office.
Hey, boss. He's on his way.
He--
He's on his way.
In the book The Great Gatsby,
there's a famous sign shaped like a pair of eyeglasses.
Does it represent an optometrist?
It represents the eyes of God staring down and judging society as a moral wasteland.
Oh, that sounds like a fun book.
Listen... I know going to the doctor can be scary.
But doctors are your friends.
Come on.
Phil was wrong, of course.
As anyone who's been to a doctor knows, doctors are not necessarily your friends,
any more than butchers, mail deliverers,
or refrigerator repair people are your friends.
I myself once fought with a most unfriendly refrigerator repair person.
I wonder what ever happened to him.
Ordinarily, we'd never impose, but we're in urgent need of a ride.
-Partners? -Always, darling.
We better hurry, before the foreman realizes we're gone.
Or before Sir gets back.
They're all The History of Lucky Smells Lumbermill.
Who would want so many copies of the same book?
Of course.
Whenever Klaus reads a long, difficult book,
the first thing he does is reads the table of contents.
"Chapter 12. The Paltryville Fire."
"The Baudelaires were unequivocally responsible..."
The rest is crossed out.
This one's crossed out, too.
This one's not crossed out.
Sir, your goat cheese and beef jerky omelet is ready.
We have to get out of here.
A dictionary.
But why are you showing this to me? You can't read.
The quote that Sunny found scrawled on the inside cover has been said
by many of my associates over the years. It goes...
"In every library, there is a single book
that can answer the question that burns like a fire in the mind."
It wasn't the quote that caught Sunny's eye,
nor was it the reference to fire that set Violet's heart racing.
It was the handwriting.
For when Violet saw the strong left lean of the L's,
and the confident closed loop of the O's, she knew who wrote it
even before she saw the name on the library checkout card.
"Bertrand Baudelaire."
Or as Violet and Sunny knew him...
Father!
They're good children.
I don't see why we have to lie to them. The truth is right there in your book.
Not anymore.
I had it redacted.
-Sir, you defaced your own book? -I didn't have a choice.
Charles, we made certain deals to keep this mill open.
And if she wants us to cover up the truth and blame the fire on the Baudelaires,
well... that's the cost of doing business.
Is it really worth it?
This mill is all I have, Charles.
And you.
Of course I have you.
Klaus Baudelaire.
You're Dr. Orwell?
Yes, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I was on my lunch hour.
Looks like somebody broke their glasses.
See? Perfectly friendly.
Well, you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.
Actually, you catch the most flies with manure.
Aren't you smart? It's just an expression.
A fancy way of saying you're more likely to get what you want
by acting in a sweet way, than in a distasteful way, like vinegar.
Wave goodbye to your friend.
Goodbye?
Is this really necessary to fix my glasses?
An eye exam is standard procedure for all my patients.
You look nervous.
Father always said he didn't trust optimists or optometrists.
Well, sounds like he may have had a bad experience with one.
I wonder who she was.
Or if she ever practiced optometry again...
after the heartbreak, and the lawsuit
and the plastic surgery to assume a new identity in a faraway town.
-What did you say? -I said try not to blink.
You're a smart boy. Do you know what bedside manner means?
- It's when-- - It's when a doctor speaks
in a calm and reassuring voice to make sure his patients trust him.
And how are we feeling, Klaus?
-Not good. -Because you broke your glasses.
Because of this town.
Everyone thinks our parents did this bad thing,
but they never even met them.
Well, I'm not like everyone else.
You don't believe it.
I met your parents.
Standard procedure for nervous little boys.
That's standard, too.
Now focus here, Klaus, and tell me what you see.
An E or an A?
-An-- -An E or an A?
-An A. -An A or a C?
-A C. -A sea or a lake?
-Wait, what? -A reptile or an amphibian?
Fire or accident?
A blonde or a bottle blonde?
A parent or an arsonist?
Tell me what you see, Klaus.
Yes, you little bookworm, tell us what you see.
I'm sure he'll be back soon.
Why don't you play a game of solitaire to pass the time?
-Violet? -Hmm?
That's not a window.
Lights out.
Klaus?
We were worried. You were gone so long.
You're not wearing your glasses. Are they still being fixed?
What was it like inside the eye? Klaus?
You're smiling.
I'm happy to be here, sir.
What? I'm not Sir. I'm your sister.
While you were gone, I heard Sir talking to Charles.
He said he made a deal to cover something up.
There's something bigger going on here.
- Shh. - Quiet.
Did you hear what I said?
I guess it's been a long day.
Would you like to go to sleep?
Yes, sir.
Your shoes are still on.
Klaus?
I promised our parents I'd always look out for Klaus.
But I didn't.
He wanted to leave and I made him stay.
Except now he's acting strange. It's all my fault.
There's no one else to fix it.
Get up, lumber laborers.
Lucky Smells has no time for dawdling.
Klaus Baude-liar, would you like to get out of bed this instant?
-Yes, sir. -Would you like to bring your baby sister?
Klaus?
Lucky boy.
It's wood chipper day.
Would you like to make some mulch?
What are you doing?
You're frightening Sunny and you're frightening me. What's going on?
Lucky Smells Lumbermill. This is he.
The Baudelaire orphans working here at the mill?
That's ridiculous. They're children.
They're probably somewhere
enjoying a hot cup of coffee in front of a roaring fire...
wherever they are, which certainly isn't here.
Now, who is this?
Hello?
-What's wrong? -With me? Nothing.
We've fought a host of unsavory characters,
including a most unfriendly refrigerator repair person.
We've flown a plane into a hurricane.
We've been to Peru and back to get home to our children.
And today, finally, we'll all be together.
What could be wrong?
Stop it and we can leave.
Lucky Smells is our life. Lucky Smells is our home.
No, it's not.
A home is where people take care of you, not make you work in a mill for gum.
I should've listened to you when you wanted to go.
If you're still in there,
I want you to know I miss you an inordinate amount.
Inordinate?
What... what the heck does that mean?
It can mean many things. Immoderate, irregular.
But in this case, I think it means you missed me a lot.
-Klaus, you're back! -Where was I?
Why am I not wearing shoes?
We'll have to explain how you hurt your leg.
-Ballroom dancing? -They'll believe that.
They've seen you dance.
I don't know what's going on here, but we need to--
Baude-liars!
-We need to-- -I'm talking to you, lumber brats.
Go to the very fancy door. You have visitors.
Ah, there you are, children.
Now, I know your time here hasn't been peachy,
but your luck is about to change.
Because I brought you... this peach.
But who's visiting us?
Oh, I don't know.
But they can't come inside, because that would be trespassing,
and then they'd be put to work.
But I can tell you they are just on the other side of that very fancy door.
Children?
Duncan, Quigley, Isadora?
Mother?
Father!
-Get over here, you three. -How was your work trip?
Oh, we're just happy to be home.
How did you hurt your leg?
Breaking out of prison in Peru.
I beg you, turn this program off now. Imagine this story has a happy ending.
You can pretend the woman at the door is the Duchess of Winnipeg,
and she's come to throw the Baudelaires a pony party at her chateau.
Or you can pretend that she's a butler with a tray of blueberry pancakes,
or a loving parent that you thought you'd never see again.
But if you choose to watch on, let me warn you,
the misery does not end here.
In fact, I visited Paltryville myself many years later.
It was long after the Lucky Smells Lumbermill had closed its doors...
and Dr. Orwell's office had fallen into disrepair.
Of course, the building wasn't originally an optometrist office at all,
but the headquarters of a secret organization.
That is where I learned what happened to Klaus Baudelaire.
Poor, poor Klaus Baudelaire.
It's enough to make you want to abandon civilization and live by a pond.
But if you choose to look this misery in the eye,
you should be asking one question.
It's the same question that the Baudelaires should've asked,
my beloved Beatrice should've asked on the day that she died.
And that question is...
where is Count Olaf?
My, my, my, my, my!
Aren't you a lucky boy?
Yes, sir.
Lucky Smells Lumbermill. Yeah, this is he.
The Baudelaire orphans, working at the mill?
Well, that's ridiculous.
You might be wondering about the identity of the mysterious caller
who rang to inquire about the Baudelaires.
I've conducted extensive research,
and all that I can tell you is that, whoever it was...
Now, who is this?
Hello?
they were of no help whatsoever.
Hmm, well...
Let's see what's next on the list.