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The Addams Family: The Story of the Movie: Movie tie-in
The Addams Family: The Story of the Movie: Movie tie-in
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The Addams Family: The Story of the Movie: Movie tie-in

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Bam! Gomez hit the mine straight back at Pugsley, and it detonated in the parachute, sending Pugsley spinning down into the greenhouse, where he landed with a crash.

Gomez gave him a hand up.

‘Morning,’ he said.

‘Morning,’ Pugsley replied cheerfully.

Gomez took his son by the shoulders and stared seriously into his eyes. ‘Pugsley,’ he said. ‘We’re supposed to be working on your swordplay every morning before breakfast. Your Sabre Mazurka is in two weeks, and you’ve barely practised at all!’

Pugsley pouted and shrugged. ‘So I missed one practice. What’s the big deal?’

Gomez’s eyes went wide. ‘The big deal?!’ he cried. ‘Why, the Sabre Mazurka is the most important day in the life of a young Addams man! It’s what makes you an Addams! It’s the day your entire family gathers round you and judges your worth as a human being.’

‘It’s basically Thanksgiving,’ Wednesday offered as she trooped by them on her way into the house.

‘There!’ Gomez agreed. ‘Thanksgiving! Whatever that is.’

Pugsley squirmed. ‘But swords are so old-fashioned,’ he whined. ‘I’m more of a demolitions man.’

Gomez frowned. ‘Explosives have no place in a Mazurka,’ he said. ‘Hand them over.’

Pugsley sighed and handed his father a stick of TNT.

‘All of it,’ Gomez prompted, and Pugsley rummaged through his clothes and produced another stick of TNT, a handful of fire crackers, several roman candles, some bang-snaps, a holy hand grenade and a small pile of other miscellaneous explosives.

‘Is that all of it?’ Gomez asked sternly.

Pugsley nodded. ‘I swear on my honour as an Addams,’ he said.

Gomez nodded his head, satisfied. He knelt down and took Pugsley by the shoulders. ‘Son,’ he said gently, ‘our family hasn’t been all together in thirteen years. Not since your mother and I got married. They’re coming from all over the world to see you on your special day.’

Pugsley stared up at his father, his eyes wide.

‘I just want it to go perfectly,’ Gomez said.

‘Okay, Pop,’ Pugsley said softly. ‘I’ll practise.’

‘That’s my boy,’ Gomez replied, and gave him a hearty pat on the back. It knocked a stick of TNT out of Pugsley’s pocket.

‘Oops,’ Pugsley said insincerely.

(#u897698cd-9c3f-564a-867e-030fe8097e66)

MORTICIA SAT DOWN at the breakfast table with a happy sigh. Family breakfast – her favourite time of day. Gomez snapped open a hundred-year-old newspaper, releasing a cloud of moths, and began to read. Wednesday and Pugsley kicked each other under the table. And Lurch slumped in and swept the silver cover off the breakfast platter with a flourish.

A fetid, horrible smell emerged.

‘Putrid,’ Morticia said approvingly. Lurch smiled and nodded his thanks.

‘Horrifying,’ Gomez agreed. Morticia smiled at him. Truly, they were so lucky to have a cook as talented as Lurch tending to their meals. Today’s breakfast smelled like it had spent a few weeks in an overheated funeral home.

As they ate, Morticia began sorting through the mail that had arrived over the past week.

‘Gomez,’ she said, ‘everyone we’ve invited to Pugsley’s Mazurka has threatened to come.’

Gomez beamed. ‘Wonderful!’ he said. ‘All the Addamses and Frumps under one roof again!’ He ducked as Pugsley flung a hatchet at his head. It hit the back of Gomez’s chair with a twang.

‘Yes,’ Morticia replied, ‘but where will everyone sleep?’

Gomez grinned. ‘We’ll get Lurch to fix up the mausoleum,’ he suggested. ‘It’ll be like sleep-away camp!’

Morticia plucked a beeping time bomb out of the pile of envelopes and tossed it casually over her shoulder. It flew out of the open window and detonated outside with an earth-shaking BANG.

Grass and earth flew everywhere, a few rocks pelted into the sky, and a man’s body flew through the window – glass exploding into the breakfast nook – and landed on the ground in a heap.

Whump.

The man sprang to his feet and brushed glass out of his clothing. ‘It’s okay!’ he said. ‘I’m okay; the plate-glass window broke my fall.’

‘Uncle Fester!’ Pugsley cried, and leaped out of his chair to greet his uncle.

‘Brother!’ Gomez said, standing and hugging Fester. ‘I’m thrilled you’re here!’

‘I’m not late, am I?’ Fester asked.

‘Actually,’ Morticia said a little tartly, ‘we weren’t expecting you for another two weeks.’ She shot a sharp look at Gomez, who winced.

‘I apologise, darling,’ he said. ‘I asked Fester to come early to help Pugsley with his Mazurka practice.’

Morticia sighed impatiently. Men. They never thought of the ways they inconvenienced their wives. They knew nothing about the rules of hospitality.

‘If I’d known you were coming,’ she said apologetically to Fester, ‘I would have prepared the dungeon.’

‘Please,’ Fester said hurriedly, ‘don’t worry about that. I’ll just sleep in the attic. You won’t even know I’m here. I mean, you’ll have no idea.’ He grinned. ‘I’ve practised that move in a lot of people’s homes. Most of them never caught on, not even after years.’

Fester turned to greet the Addams children. ‘I can’t believe it!’ he said. ‘The last time I saw you, you were this tall.’ He measured off about half a metre with his hands.

‘That’s because you buried us up to our necks,’ Pugsley reminded him.

‘Ooh, riiiiight,’ Fester said, staring off into space sentimentally. ‘And then those spiders came and laid eggs in your mouths!’

Wednesday nodded.

‘Isn’t family special?’ Fester said.

‘Uncle,’ Wednesday said thoughtfully, ‘can you tell us what’s beyond the gate?’

Lurch, who was on his way out of the room with the breakfast tray, stopped in his tracks and dropped it. Morticia set her fork down on her plate with a sharp clang.She turned to Wednesday.

‘Why would you ask that, dear?’ Morticia asked in a voice that was trying – and failing – to sound casual.

Wednesday shrugged. ‘I heard a strange noise in the fog earlier,’ she said. ‘I want to investigate.’

Morticia shook her head sharply. ‘There’s nothing out there but boring marshland,’ she said.

Wednesday knew she was pushing it. But she kept going. ‘But there must be something,’ she said. ‘We never go anywhere. Who knows what untold horrors we’re missing out on!’

Morticia laid a hand on her daughter’s hand. ‘We have all the horror we need right here, my love,’ she said.

Wednesday scowled. ‘Uncle Fester gets to go wherever he wants,’ she said rebelliously.

‘Now, now,’ Fester broke in. ‘That’s not quite true. There are some legal restrictions. For example, I can’t go to a shopping centre. Or a school. Or a public park. Or—’

Morticia broke in. ‘When you’re older, Wednesday,’ she said firmly, ‘you can travel to your heart’s content. But for now, it’s safer for you here.’


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