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Wednesday Addams looked out the window, waiting for
her b*****r to arrive. The length of cording in her
hand was starting to make her hand cramp.

She smiled to herself. She _liked_ cramps.

A movement at the end of the walk… yes! It was
Pugsley. She watched as he bounced along the walkway
between the hedgework. Almost time… almost…

Pugsley glanced down, and saw a small “x” chalked on
the walkway ahead of him. He paused, glancing up
without moving his head. Yes, there… behind that
window….

A mischievous grin spread over his face. He stepped
over the mark.

Wednesday released her cord.

Swish!

The huge blade swung past Pugsley, just brushing the
seat of his pants as he hurried forward at a pace
slightly faster than normal. He turned and watched
the razor-sharp battle-ax swing back and forth on
the end of a slender cable over the walkway until it
stopped.

He glanced up at the window; Wednesday had disappeared.
He felt a cool breeze, and felt the back of his pants.
The ax had neatly sliced a three-inch piece off the
seat of his pants.

“Very close, Wednesday,” he muttered, a sly grin on
his face. “Very close.”

He went on into the house and upstairs to change his
pants. He had a guest coming to stay the night. After
all, it wouldn’t be proper to greet him with holed
pants.

On his way to his room, he stopped outside the door
to Wednesday’s room. “Better bring in your ax, s*s,”
he said to the closed door.

The door opened a crack. Wednesday’s somber face
peeked out. “What ax?”

Pugsley giggled. “Come on, let’s set it up for Papa.”

The two c***dren dashed over to the window. Pugsley
reached up and pulled down the cord, raising the ax.
Wednesday pushed a wire out the window and caught the
cable, and pulled it back, resetting the catch.

Once it was set, Pugsley tied off the cable, ready for
the next try.

Wednesday walked around behind her b*****r, and noticed
the hole in his trousers. She stopped, looked at the
opening in the fabric, and the cleft in the white flesh
behind it.

Quickly, she formed a fist, with her thumb sticking
out, she jammed it between the exposed cheeks.

“Whoop!” Pugsley jumped, almost falling through the
window. He whipped around, his hands reaching back
to cover himself.

“That’s called a goose,” Wednesday said, almost
smiling.

Pugsley grinned, and looked lustfully at his s****r.
“Can I try it?”

“Why not?” Wednesday sneered. “It’s your ass.” She
turned and walked away.

Pugsley, covering his bare spot, headed toward his
room.

The door chimes rang hollowly. The smallish boy stood
on the front porch of the great house, looking around
himself. “Looks a lot like home,” he thought.

The great door swung open slowly. The tall man looked
down at him. “You rang?” he groaned.

“I’m Eddie Munster,” the boy grinned up at him.
“Pugsley invited me over to spend the night.”

The tall butler moaned and nodded slowly. He stepped
inside and motioned toward the staircase.

Eddie picked up his gym bag and dashed up the stairs.

Morticia Addams called from her peacock chair in the
sitting room. “Lurch, is that Pugsley’s little friend?”

The butler groaned assent as he entered the room.

“Very good. I hope they have a good time.” She held
out her teacup. “Please?”

Lurch took the cup and saucer and headed to the table
where a teapot sat steaming. He poured a cup and took
it back to Mrs. Addams.

“Gomez is due home soon,” she smiled up at him. “Do
check to make sure the c***dren have not set up any-
thing too deadly.”

The butler nodded, turned, and headed toward the hall.

At that moment, there was a metallic clash outdoors,
accompanied by a shout of triumph.

The front door swung open. Gomez stood at the door,
twirling the battle-ax like a drum-major’s baton.

“I must congratulate the c***dren,” he said, gleefully.
“Very ingenious, but a tad slow.” He removed the stub
of a cigar from between his teeth. “Still, it did ruin
a fine cigar.”

He handed the ax to Lurch as he entered the house, and
followed Morticia back into the sitting room. He step-
ped over by a small end-table. A box on the table
opened, and a hand appeared, holding a new cigar.

“Why, thank you, Thing,” Gomez grinned, taking the
cigar. The hand disappeared, and came back with a
lighted match.

Gomez leaned forward, puffing the cigar as he lit it
with Thing’s match. As Gomez straightened back up,
Thing pulled the lid down on the box.

“Where are the c***dren?” Gomez asked.

“They’re upstairs,” Morticia said. “Pugsley has a
young friend over tonight.”

“Is tonight that night?” Gomez smiled. “The Munster
boy, right?”

Morticia nodded.

“Have you met him yet?” he asked.

“No, I expect Pugsley to bring him down soon for a
rendezvous.”

“Rendezvous!” Gomez gasped. “Tish! That’s French!”

He grabbed Morticia’s hand, and kissed her fingers,
then the back of her hand, moving up her arm. When
he reached her shoulder, she pushed him back.

“Save some for later,” she said,

“Eddie,” Pugsley grinned, “I’d like you to meet my
s****r, Wednesday.”

“Wednesday? Why not tonight?” Eddie asked, puzzled.

“Wednesday is my name, silly,” Wednesday said, almost
smiling.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” she said, touching his arm. “Every-
body does the same thing. It’s Pugsley’s little joke.”

“What do you want to play?” Pugsley said, jumping up
and down. “How about ‘Electric Chair’? I LIKE that
one.”

Wednesday shook her head. “How about ‘Dungeon’?”

“That’s a good one too,” Pugsley said, clapping his
hands.

“Let’s go downstairs, then.” Wednesday took Eddie’s
hand. “I’m so glad you came along to spend the night.”

Eddie looked at her, a small expression of puzzlement
on his face. Wednesday’s face showed no expression at
all. The three youngsters headed downstairs.

Uncle Fester closed the cover on the listening-pipe.
‘Dungeon’, eh?” he muttered. “That’s one of MY
favorites, too!”

He slithered out of his chair, and slipped into the
secret passageway that led to the basement.

The three c***dren bounced down the stairs. As they
reached the doorway to the sitting room, Gomez sprang
through the door, brandishing his fencing foil. The
tip of the blade quivered a few inches in front of
Pugsley’s nose.

“What, ho!” Gomez shouted.

“Hi, Pop!” Pugsley grinned.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Gomez smiled.

“Pop, this is my friend Eddie. Eddie Munster.”

The young man extended his hand. Gomez put the foil
under his left arm and shook Eddie’s hand solemnly.

“Pleased to meet you. Do you fence?”

“Only when there’s a full moon,” Eddie said.

“Eh?” Gomez scratched his head.

“Yeah, I fence all over the neighborhood.” Eddie
smiled, charmingly.

“He means sword-fighting,” Pugsley whispered.

“Oh.” Eddie looked chagrined. “I don’t do that.
I thought he meant marking territory.”

Gomez shook his head, puzzled. “You should introduce
Eddie to your mother,” he told Pugsley.

Pugsley nodded. He ushered the others into the sit-
ting room.

Lurch stepped up behind Gomez, as the smaller man
watched the c***dren introduce Eddie to Morticia.

“There’s something about that boy,” Gomez mused.
“I wonder what he meant about territory.”

Lurch moaned deeply, rolling his eyes, as he turned
away.

Fester reached the lower levels of the house, and
opened a small trap door that looked into the play-
chamber with its equipment. He made sure that he
was hidden completely in the shadows, and settled
into a corner.

He twisted a few times on the stool to make sure it
was still silent. “All ready,” he muttered. “Let’s
bring on the show.”

He watched the stairway expectantly.

Introductions made, the c***dren dashed to the stairs
leading to the basement.

Gomez called after them, “Be careful, c***dren. Don’t
make too big a mess.”

“We won’t,” Wednesday called back.

At the foot of the first staircase, Wednesday turned
on the lights for the second stairwell.

“Watch your step, Eddie,” she whispered. “The third
step is a bit longer than the others.”

Eddie nodded. “Just like home,” he grinned.

The three c***dren bounced down the stairs and entered
the playroom. Eddie looked around at the equipment and
smiled.

“I’ve always wanted a room like this,” he said.

“I’m first!” Pugsley shouted. The sound was muffled
by the walls, which were covered with ancient Persian
carpeting.

Wednesday nodded. “Then I get to choose the game.”
She pointed at an upright post with chains and man-
acles.

“The Post!” Pugsley grinned. “Good choice.”

“Take off your shirt,” Wednesday instructed.

Pugsley eagerly complied.

Wednesday latched the manacles around Pugsley’s
wrists, and pulled the chains through a loop,
tugging Pugsley’s arms up over his head.

Pugsley faced the post, his naked back toward the
other two. Wednesday chose a cat-of-nine-tails from
a rack, and swung it experimentally.

“Ready?” she asked.

Pugsley nodded.

Wednesday swung the whip. <> The lashes
slapped Pugley’s back with a nice snap. Eddie
could see red welts forming.

“Oh, yes,” Pugsley gasped. “That’s good. Again!”

Wednesday was happy to comply. <>

“YES! Again!” <

Updated: October 21, 2016 — 1:18 pm

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