[At "Herring Houdini", a fake restaurant run by Olaf's acting troupe]
[deadpan] Welcome to Herring Houdini, home of pickled fish.
Everything here's been prepared for you!
And very quickly!
But not because we got a phone call five minutes ago.
For the children, we offer a tour of the kitchen!
Where they'll probably not be thrown into a burlap sack.
And for the adults...
[appears, offering] Vodka martinis?
Which don't have any sleeping potion in them, at all.
[Jerome and Esmé, bewildered, do not initially respond.]
Mr. Squalor, we can't eat here.
This sounds perfect, please. Yes!
I don't like to argue. I'll let my wife decide...
[composes herself] ...Vodka in a martini?
[The hook-handed and bald men nod eagerly.]
Are we living in garbage?! [leaves in disgust, followed by Jerome and the Baudelaires. Olaf gives his troupe an annoyed look.]
[simultaneously] Isn't this a fine kettle of fish!
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