I can’t just call Dad in the afterlife and be like, “Dad, could you just stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?”
Of course I’m going to die! That’s the way of the world, Baudelaires. Everybody runs around with their secrets and their schemes, trying to outwit one another, and then they die.
No offense, brother, but on the list of things I’d like to wake up to, your face falls somewhere after a horse’s head and Coldplay tickets.
Maybe you haven’t seen the world, Elliot, but I have, and trust me, it’s garbage. People lie, and they hurt each other. And they wear these things on their feet called Crocs.
I have to retrieve the sugar bowl, then I’m going up to the roof to retrieve the Medusoid Mycelium, then I’m going down to the lobby to poison everyone, then I’m going back up to the roof to escape the authorities. It’s a lot of ups and downs, but hey, so is life.