“How many times must I remind you it’s not polite to interrupt?” Uncle Monty interrupted, shaking his head. “In any case, I know what you’re worried about. You’re worried what will happen if he stays here alone with the Incredibly Deadly Viper. But don’t worry. The Viper will join us on the expedition, traveling in one of our snake carrying cases. I don’t know why you’re looking so glum, Sunny. I thought you’d be happy to have the Viper’s company. So don’t look so worried, bambini. As you can see, your Uncle Monty has the situation in hand.”

When somebody is a little bit wrong—say, when a waiter puts nonfat milk in your es-presso macchiato, instead of lowfat milk—it is often quite easy to explain to them how and why they are wrong. But if somebody is surpassingly wrong—say, when a waiter bites your nose instead of taking your order—you can often be so surprised that you are unable to say anything at all. Paralyzed by how wrong the waiter is, your mouth would hang slightly open and your eyes would blink over and over, but you would be unable to say a word. This is what the Baudelaire children did. Uncle Monty was so wrong about Stephano, in thinking he was a herpetological spy rather than Count Olaf, that the three siblings could scarcely think of a way to tell him so.

“Come now, my dears,” Uncle Monty said.

“We’ve wasted enough of the morning on talk. We have to— ow!” He interrupted himself with a cry of surprise and pain, and fell to the ground.

“Uncle Monty!” Klaus cried. The

Baudelaire children saw that a large, shiny object was on top of him, and realized a moment later what the object was: it was the heavy brass reading lamp, the one standing next to the large cushioned chair in Klaus’s room.

“Ow!” Uncle Monty said again, pulling the lamp off him. “That really hurt. My shoulder may be sprained. It’s a good thing it didn’t land on my head, or it really could have done some damage.”

“But where did it come from?” Violet asked.

“It must have fallen from the window,” Uncle Monty said, pointing up to where Klaus’s room was. “Whose room is that?

Klaus, I believe it is yours. You must be more careful. You can’t dangle heavy objects out the window like that. Look what almost happened.”

“But that lamp wasn’t anywhere near my window,” Klaus said. “I keep it in the alcove, so I can read in that large chair.”

“Really, Klaus,” Uncle Monty said, standing up and handing him the lamp. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that the lamp danced over to the window and leaped onto my shoulder? Please put this back in your room, in a safe place, and we’ll say no more about it.”