The Addams family manor sat perched on a dreary hill at the end of an empty cul-de-sac, its steeples and arches giving it the character of a cat rearing to attack.
While not a place which received many visitors, it had one today — standing out in front of its tall, wrought-iron gate was a slender young man in a brown peacoat.
"Uh, good morning... here on business!" Jeremy Brandt spoke awkwardly in the direction of the gate.
At a moment's notice, the gate appeared to spontaneously spring to life, and steadily swung open with a strained creak.
Jeremy shook his head in amusement, and began down the cobbled path toward the gothic mansion's front door. He ran a hand through his semi-styled hair as he mulled over everything he felt he needed to remember for the consultation he'd arrived to give. Memory wasn't particularly his strongest attribute, which made him a mediocre accountant, but he'd been receiving steady work from the peculiar family living at the edge of town who, for whatever reason, had appeared to have taken a liking to him.
"Jeremy!" exclaimed an ecstatic Gomez Addams, who had burst the door open just as Jeremy had reached his hand out to knock.
"Hey!" Jeremy chuckled, "you're always startling me like that, man."
"Nonsense!" Gomez moved in to embrace him. "You're exactly on time, the host should be here ready to greet you!"
Gomez was a jubilant Castilian man with a list of eccentricities too long to count, one of which being the pencil thin mustache he sported above his million-dollar grin. Jeremy figured that the unbridled enthusiasm with which the guy approached life was the reason the 50-year-old was able to maintain his vigor. Then again, the family were also known to brew potions.
Gomez lead Jeremy into the foyer where an enchanting Morticia Addams waited to greet him.
"Jeremy, have you been keeping well?" she asked sweetly, promptly gracing his cheek with a kiss.
"Uh," he laughed awkwardly, "actually, it's been a pretty dreary week for me—"
"Oh, well that's wonderful to hear!" she exulted.
He chuckled, as he knew better than to think she'd misheard him. Yet another Addams idiosyncrasy; he'd decided to himself that the family must collectively romanticize masochism, or something.
"Now now, we have business to discuss!" proclaimed Gomez, ushering the party into the home's library. The ornate gothic decor really made the entire manor feel like visiting a museum.
"Pubert! You'll crack your head playing on that! —Crack it again, I mean!" Gomez scolded joyfully.
Jeremy turned his head to see young Pubert Addams swinging on the bookshelf ladder, rolling from one side to the other, cackling to himself.
Jeremy had never seen a child with a mustache before, but Pubert inexplicably had one matching his father's, as well as an identical combover haircut. It was perfectly ridiculous, but something Jeremy had come to expect, having visited this home as many times as he had over the past year.
Still in play mode, Pubert ran toward the door screaming.
"Hello Jeremy!" he yelled, inadvertently shoulder-checking Jeremy on his way out, causing him to drop his bag.
"Oh, allow me," Morticia offered sympathetically, "isn't our son turning out to be just a terror?" she said with a glint in her eye, handing Jeremy his bag back.
"He gets a little, uh, louder every time I see him," agreed Jeremy, massaging his ear.
"Sit! Sit, let us make ourselves comfortable, please!" urged Gomez, pulling some armchairs over toward the desk in the centre of the room.
YOU ARE READING
A Crossbow Aimed at the Heart
FanfictionA 21 year old Wednesday Addams has moved away from her parents (on their dime) in an attempt to find some independence, however they are concerned that she has taken the opportunity to become a shut-in. Under the guise of an audit, Gomez and Mortici...
