The Final Halloween Fic!
Title Grave Humor
Genre: Addams Family
Rating: PG
Word count: 1098
Prompt: Local gravestones begin disappearing.
My thanks to everyone who played along and as always to my Wobbie for her beta
Morticia Addams considered herself a cultured and well-rounded individual. She read extensively, enjoyed music and painted. She moved in the best circles easily and entertained with grace. She gardened, took long walks, and always made sure she remembered where she’d come from. Miss Broomhilde would be proud of her. Of course, she hadn’t gotten the paranoid insanity quite right that her sister had achieved, but thankfully Gomez didn’t care. For some reason, he preferred it.
She offered Cleopatra, her African Strangler, another forkful of food. “Now, chew carefully, my darling. You know that dragon gives you indigestion if you don’t chew it well.”
The plant slurped and chomped while its leaves quivered with happiness.
“Ah, there is nothing more heartening than seeing a girl and her strangler.” Gomes slipped behind her, crushing her ribs in the most affectionate way. “Cara mia, seeing you like that. My blood boils. I want to throw you down and take you.”
“Take her where?” Fester asked and immediately Gomez released his wife.
“Um, to the cemetery for a nice walk.”
“Don’t go there, then. It’s ugly… and heart breaking.” Fester flumped down onto a fainting couch and dust poofed up around him.
“Looks like Lurch just dusted.” Gomez retrieved a lit cigarillo from his jacket pocket and began to puff.
“He is a genius with it.” Morticia used a napkin to wipe any excess from Cleopatra’s petals and smiled at her proudly. “There’s a good girl.”
“You certainly have a way with that plant. I remember when she was barely able to strangle a house fly. Earlier this week, I found the postman, two deliverymen, and a small pony.” Gomez beamed, every bit as proud of his wife as she was of her gardening abilities. “Is there anything you aren’t adept at, Cara?”
“It’s only because I have the love and support of my dear family.” She minced a few steps away from the plant and closer to Fester. “Now, Fester, dear, what did you mean by the cemetery being ugly and heartbreaking? I know for a fact that we have perpetual care.”
“Not ours, the city cemetery.”
“Now, Fester, what did we tell you about lurking in other cemeteries? The Myers still have a restraining order against you.”
“I never get to have any fun.” He pouted like a little boy losing his best toy.
“It’s for your own good, Old Man.” Gomez let his ashes fall to the floor. “We can’t take the risk of having you sent to prison. With your looks, you wouldn’t last a week.”
Fester motioned him away. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
Morticia moved closer and hugged him. “It’s true, Fester. We’d be lost without you.” She kissed his bald head and he giggled at that. “Now what about the cemetery?”
“The gravestones are disappearing.”
“They make disappearing gravestones?” Gomez was confused, but it was Morticia to the rescue.
“I think he means someone is taking them, Gomez. Am I right?”
“Yup, they are being stolen.” Fester seemed very proud of himself.
“Why?” Gomez’s eyes narrowed. He was onto something.
“Nobody knows.”
“And if we searched your room, Fester? We wouldn’t find them?”
“Gomez! Morticia! I’m surprised at you! Why would I steal gravestones? I have plenty of my own out back. Remember all the ones I brought back from England.”
“He has a point, Cara.”
Just then the front door opened and the Addams’ children ran in, carrying something draped with a dirty cloth. It looked almost like a shroud.
“Children?” Morticia hurried over to them. Immediately, the item was tucked from view.
“Good afternoon, Mother,” Pugsley intoned. “How are you today?”
“What are you hiding?”
“Nothing,” Wednesday said, then to her brother. “I told you that we should have taken the basement route.”
Gomez walked up and regarded them seriously. “We know you have something.”
“It’s nothing, really.” They both edged closer to the stairs, but unbeknownst to them Fester had come up behind them and snatched the cloth off whatever they were carrying.
“Not even a grave… what is that?” He stepped back and made a face.
“It’s a Green Anaconda. Her name is Gretchen,” Pugsley said sadly. “We found her in the sewer. Her owner flushed her.”
“Why?”
“Apparently, she ate his mother-in-law.”
“I’d give her a medal for that.”
“Gomez Addams!” Morticia drew up to her full height. “I don’t know whethere to hit or kiss you.”
“Both?” His voice was hopeful.
“Perhaps later. Children, why were you smuggling her into the house?”
“You said no more pets, but, Mother, she’s a special case.” Pugsley hugged her. “She just needs a good home.”
“She could grow to over 550 pounds,” Wednesday added. Her lips curled at the thought.
Morticia sighed. “All right, but feeding her will be your responsibility. “
“Yes, Mother,” they answered happily in unison.
“And none of your classmates,” she added. Their faces fell.
“Except for that King kid. He gives me the creeps.”
“Yes, Father.” And they were gone.
“There is nothing more warming than seeing one’s children with a pet.” Morticia glided to her chair and sat. “However, this doesn’t get us any closer to our gravestone thief.”
“Well, it’s not the children and it’s not Fester.” Gomez thought for a moment. “I’m pretty sure it’s not me. Grandmamma?”
“What would she be doing with gravestones?” Morticia asked. “Unless she’s planning on a very different sort of dining service for Thanksgiving.”
“By Jove, Cara, you might be right. Fester, to the kitchen.”
Morticia watched them race away and smiled to herself. She gathered her shawl and parasol and went out into her flower garden. It was struggling, although she was doing her best. No matter what, some flowers could not be killed.
She shuddered and carefully pushed aside a bush of heavy pink hydrangea blossoms and smiled benevolently down upon the slime trails of many slugs. They covered the pile of stolen gravestones with it as they crawled along.
Once they finished cleaning the stones of their moss and lichen, the slugs would move onto the plants and soon she would be free.
She was as bad as the children, bringing home unloved gravestones. Her heart would break for them, forgotten and ill-used, but at least once they were clean, she could mysteriously discover a pile of them by the crypt and as a family, they would return them to their rightful places. Addams were many things, but they were not gravestone robbers. Grave robbers, yes, but gravestones - never!
She sighed. Yes, Miss Broomhilde would be very pleased with her. Very pleased, indeed.
Genre: Addams Family
Rating: PG
Word count: 1098
Prompt: Local gravestones begin disappearing.
My thanks to everyone who played along and as always to my Wobbie for her beta
Morticia Addams considered herself a cultured and well-rounded individual. She read extensively, enjoyed music and painted. She moved in the best circles easily and entertained with grace. She gardened, took long walks, and always made sure she remembered where she’d come from. Miss Broomhilde would be proud of her. Of course, she hadn’t gotten the paranoid insanity quite right that her sister had achieved, but thankfully Gomez didn’t care. For some reason, he preferred it.
She offered Cleopatra, her African Strangler, another forkful of food. “Now, chew carefully, my darling. You know that dragon gives you indigestion if you don’t chew it well.”
The plant slurped and chomped while its leaves quivered with happiness.
“Ah, there is nothing more heartening than seeing a girl and her strangler.” Gomes slipped behind her, crushing her ribs in the most affectionate way. “Cara mia, seeing you like that. My blood boils. I want to throw you down and take you.”
“Take her where?” Fester asked and immediately Gomez released his wife.
“Um, to the cemetery for a nice walk.”
“Don’t go there, then. It’s ugly… and heart breaking.” Fester flumped down onto a fainting couch and dust poofed up around him.
“Looks like Lurch just dusted.” Gomez retrieved a lit cigarillo from his jacket pocket and began to puff.
“He is a genius with it.” Morticia used a napkin to wipe any excess from Cleopatra’s petals and smiled at her proudly. “There’s a good girl.”
“You certainly have a way with that plant. I remember when she was barely able to strangle a house fly. Earlier this week, I found the postman, two deliverymen, and a small pony.” Gomez beamed, every bit as proud of his wife as she was of her gardening abilities. “Is there anything you aren’t adept at, Cara?”
“It’s only because I have the love and support of my dear family.” She minced a few steps away from the plant and closer to Fester. “Now, Fester, dear, what did you mean by the cemetery being ugly and heartbreaking? I know for a fact that we have perpetual care.”
“Not ours, the city cemetery.”
“Now, Fester, what did we tell you about lurking in other cemeteries? The Myers still have a restraining order against you.”
“I never get to have any fun.” He pouted like a little boy losing his best toy.
“It’s for your own good, Old Man.” Gomez let his ashes fall to the floor. “We can’t take the risk of having you sent to prison. With your looks, you wouldn’t last a week.”
Fester motioned him away. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
Morticia moved closer and hugged him. “It’s true, Fester. We’d be lost without you.” She kissed his bald head and he giggled at that. “Now what about the cemetery?”
“The gravestones are disappearing.”
“They make disappearing gravestones?” Gomez was confused, but it was Morticia to the rescue.
“I think he means someone is taking them, Gomez. Am I right?”
“Yup, they are being stolen.” Fester seemed very proud of himself.
“Why?” Gomez’s eyes narrowed. He was onto something.
“Nobody knows.”
“And if we searched your room, Fester? We wouldn’t find them?”
“Gomez! Morticia! I’m surprised at you! Why would I steal gravestones? I have plenty of my own out back. Remember all the ones I brought back from England.”
“He has a point, Cara.”
Just then the front door opened and the Addams’ children ran in, carrying something draped with a dirty cloth. It looked almost like a shroud.
“Children?” Morticia hurried over to them. Immediately, the item was tucked from view.
“Good afternoon, Mother,” Pugsley intoned. “How are you today?”
“What are you hiding?”
“Nothing,” Wednesday said, then to her brother. “I told you that we should have taken the basement route.”
Gomez walked up and regarded them seriously. “We know you have something.”
“It’s nothing, really.” They both edged closer to the stairs, but unbeknownst to them Fester had come up behind them and snatched the cloth off whatever they were carrying.
“Not even a grave… what is that?” He stepped back and made a face.
“It’s a Green Anaconda. Her name is Gretchen,” Pugsley said sadly. “We found her in the sewer. Her owner flushed her.”
“Why?”
“Apparently, she ate his mother-in-law.”
“I’d give her a medal for that.”
“Gomez Addams!” Morticia drew up to her full height. “I don’t know whethere to hit or kiss you.”
“Both?” His voice was hopeful.
“Perhaps later. Children, why were you smuggling her into the house?”
“You said no more pets, but, Mother, she’s a special case.” Pugsley hugged her. “She just needs a good home.”
“She could grow to over 550 pounds,” Wednesday added. Her lips curled at the thought.
Morticia sighed. “All right, but feeding her will be your responsibility. “
“Yes, Mother,” they answered happily in unison.
“And none of your classmates,” she added. Their faces fell.
“Except for that King kid. He gives me the creeps.”
“Yes, Father.” And they were gone.
“There is nothing more warming than seeing one’s children with a pet.” Morticia glided to her chair and sat. “However, this doesn’t get us any closer to our gravestone thief.”
“Well, it’s not the children and it’s not Fester.” Gomez thought for a moment. “I’m pretty sure it’s not me. Grandmamma?”
“What would she be doing with gravestones?” Morticia asked. “Unless she’s planning on a very different sort of dining service for Thanksgiving.”
“By Jove, Cara, you might be right. Fester, to the kitchen.”
Morticia watched them race away and smiled to herself. She gathered her shawl and parasol and went out into her flower garden. It was struggling, although she was doing her best. No matter what, some flowers could not be killed.
She shuddered and carefully pushed aside a bush of heavy pink hydrangea blossoms and smiled benevolently down upon the slime trails of many slugs. They covered the pile of stolen gravestones with it as they crawled along.
Once they finished cleaning the stones of their moss and lichen, the slugs would move onto the plants and soon she would be free.
She was as bad as the children, bringing home unloved gravestones. Her heart would break for them, forgotten and ill-used, but at least once they were clean, she could mysteriously discover a pile of them by the crypt and as a family, they would return them to their rightful places. Addams were many things, but they were not gravestone robbers. Grave robbers, yes, but gravestones - never!
She sighed. Yes, Miss Broomhilde would be very pleased with her. Very pleased, indeed.