Ophelia Frump had been gilted once again. No one, ever wanted her. They acted like they did and once they got to know her family, they never wanted anything to do with her. She felt awful. Is it the judo? She often wondered to herself. Am I too needy? She sighed and once again, knocked on her younger sister's door. What a shining example she was setting for her, never dealing with her problems. She waited and then looked through the window to find that nobody was in the living room. She then rang the doorbell.

Meanwhile, Morticia and her husband were in their bedroom, and didn't hear a thing. So, Lurch answered the door.

"Hello, Lurch." Ophelia sighed.

"Hello, Miss Ophelia." Lurch drew out is his low, zombie-like voice.

"Where is Morticia?" She asked.

"Upstairs... busy." Lurch groaned.

Ophelia, known for not being able to control her emotions, began to weep for the twentieth time that day.

Lurch felt very awkward. "Would you like to come in?" Before he could finish the sentence, Ophelia was walking into the house, sitting on the couch.

"Would you please get Morticia?" Ophelia asked.

"N-now?" Lurch did not seem very excited at that prospect.

"Yes." Ophelia said.

"B-but-"

"Hurry, hurry. My sister just has to see me." She waved her hands, gesturing for him to comply with her request.

Lurch groaned and shook his head, but began to walk up the stairs. When he got to their room, he stood by the door for a little while, trying to figure out if he should knock or not.

Gomez kissed his wife's neck. "Tish, you look even lovlier than the day I fist laid eyes on you." He told her.

Morticia smiled. "Merci mon cher. Que dites-vous que nous sauter le petit déjeuner?"

Those words set Gomez's whole being aflame. As this was going on, Lurch was still standing there. He hated to intrude on their privacy but he didn't really have a choice. Listening at the door was like listening to a French documentary, but one his parents would never have approved of. He listened for a while, although he hated to to try and find the right time to come in. Finally, he knocked on the door.

"Bubeleh, there's someone at the door." Morticia said.

"I didn't hear anything." Replied Gomez as he continued to passionatley kiss her.

Lurch knocked again, extremely uncomfortable.

"No, darling, there really is someone at the door. It could be something serious."

Gomez sighed. "Alright." He paused. "Who is it?"

"Uh... me." Lurch amswered from behind the door. "Visitor for Mrs. Addams."

"Oh, alright, Lurch!" Morticia called. "Tell them I'll be there shortly."

Lirch was thoroughly embarrassed. "Okay." He then rushed -which for Lurch was the speed of the average human being- downstairs.

In about twenty minutes, Mr. and Mrs. Addams were downstairs. "Ophelia! What a wonderful... suprise, dear." Morticia hugged her sister.

"Oh, thank goodness. I was wondering why Lurch was taking so long." Ophelia replied. "Hello, dear brother-in-law." She greeted Gomez.

"Hello." Gomez responded.

"Gomez, be honest with me. How do you feel about this?" Ophelia then flipped him, and Gomez yelled... as usual.

"I feel pain." Gomez explained bluntly as he got up.

"No, I mean emotionally." Ophelia tried again.

"I think-"

Just then, Uncle Fester walked in. "Oh, howdy, Ophelia!" He waved to his eldest neice. He then paused and saw the unhappy expression on her face. "Again?"

Ophelia nodded, and began to cry. "Everyone knows I'm pitiful!" She plopped down on the couch.

Nobody told her ot wasn't true, so Morticia gave Lurch, Thing and Gomez an annoyed look. "Ophelia, you are not pitiful." She put a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Morticia. But it's no use. I'm doomed to a lonely life of spinsterhood!" She cried.

"Don't say that, Ophelia." Uncle Fester -or rather is big heart- said. "Maybe I can help ya!"

"Really?" Ophelia asked.

"Here, dear." Morticia handed her sister a black handkerchief.

"Thank you." She loudly blew her nose.

Uncle Fester continued. "Yea, sure. I used to write advice to the love lorn column all the time!"

Morticia noded. "Remember, Ophelia?" She paused and looked at Uncle Fester sympathetically. "And he would probably still be doing it too if everyone had stopped suing him."

Uncle Fester sighed. "Morticia, the world just wasn't ready for me." He winked at her.

Morticia smiled. "How true."

Gomez slapped Uncle Fester on the back, playfully. "Good luck, old boy!"

"Gomez, you should be wishing Ophelia good luck." Uncle Fester corrected. "She's the student, I'm the teacher."

Gomez sighed. "I know."

Ophelia and her uncle had been in the play room for the past four hours. "Alright." Uncle Fester pointed to a chalk board with a drawing of a stick figure in a triangle to resemble a dress, flipping another stick figure. "This, is you." He used a wooden pointer, and pointed at the stick figure with the dress.

"Alright." Ophelia nodded.

"This." He pointed to the man. "Is... a man you just met." He paused. "What's wrong with this?"

"Nothing. I'm-" Ophelia then realized something. "I never asked his name?"

"Correct!" Uncle Fester shouted. "Now, I think that you're a great girl, Ophelia. But... you're kinda desperate."

"Uncle Fester!" Ophelia scolded, hurt.

"What?" He asked. "Ophelia, yea, you need to keep up with your judo but some men just wanna talk."

"Well, you see, Uncle Fester... that's the trouble. What would I talk about? My daisies? Weeds? Judo? That's all I know how to talk about." She confessed.

"No, it isn't. Whatever pops into your head, talk about it. Talk about yourself, talk about your family history. Like Pike Frump, he was the hanging judge in Salem for four years, then he was hanged himself."

Ophelia giggled, she always thought that to be a rather amusing story. "But I'm not..." She humphed. "I'm just not smart like Morticia and mother wish I could be. I don't even understand day and night."

Uncle Fester thought for a moment. "But, you understand night and day."

"Yes, that's true." Opehlia said. "But still, I want to be smart. I want to learn how to make men stay. I know how to get them. But alas, I can't ever seem to keep them."

"That does seem to be a problem." Uncle Fester admitted. "Why don't we find you a hobby? You can keep men interested with that. Say..." He snapped and gasped. "I just got a new cannon! Maybe we can fire it?"

"That sounds like a great idea!" Ophelia said excitedly.

Meanwhile, Gomez was rubbing his wife's neck in the parlor while she sat on a chair... worried sick about her sister. "Darling, this is the third time this week she's come over because she's been gilted. That's twelve men... this month."

"I know, carita. Your sister's a fine girl but you have to admit... she's not the easiest to have a relationship with. Romantic or not." Gomez told her.

"I suppose you're right, mon cher."

"Tish, that's-"

"Gomez, we have to think of Ophelia right now." She said before he could make a move.

"French." Gomez said, sadly. He sighed. "But, you're right, darling." He paused. "What do you think they're working on down there?"

"I'm sure that Ophelia and Uncle Fester are working on something very productive and worthwhile. Something that will really help her." Morticia said, seemingly trying to convince herself.

"Tish..." He then stopped, second-guessing his words. He decided to come back to them later. "I know that we should only be thinking about your sister. But, you're my wife, cara mia. And I can't help but worry about you. Perhaps some fencing would do you some good, or maybe you should feed Cleopatra a snack. I really hate to see you sulking." He confessed.

Morticia sighed and got up. "You're right, mon cher."

Gomez's blood began to boil and he rushed to his wife's side. He looked at her, with pleading eyes.

"Qui, mon amour." She answered his unspoken question and he began to kiss her up her arm.

Meanwhile, Ophelia and Fester were in the garden now, shooting off his cannon.

"Alright, your turn, Ophelia!" Fester stepped aside, making way for his neice.

She shot off his cannon, it was the loudest blast yet. "Uncle Fester, this is so fun!" She shouted.

"See, Ophelia?" Uncle Fester smiled. "Your a really fun, interesting girl. You just have to be willing to try new things." He told her. "And anyway, you don't have to be smart like Morticia. Your smart in your own way."

"Thanks, Uncle Fester." Ophelia sighed. "What should we do now?"

"Eat dinner." Uncle Fester said.