Dear reader, the word 'carnivorous', which appears in the title of this book, means 'meat-eating', and once you have read such a bloodthirsty word, there is no reason to read any further. This carnivorous volume contains such a distressing story that consuming any of its contents would be far more stomach-turning than even the most imbalanced meal. To avoid causing discomfort, it would be best if I didn't mention any of the ingredients of this story, particularly a confusing map, an ambidextrous person, un unruly crowd, a wooden plank, and Chabo the Wolf Baby. Sadly for me, my time is filled with researching and recording the displeasing and disenchanting lives of the Baudelaire orphans. But your time might be better filled with something more palatable, such as eating your vegetables, or feeding them to someone else. With all due respect, Lemony Snicket.