Evil little dog

Morticia Addams daintily cut the blossom off the rose and watched as it dropped into the trash can, joining its sisters. Why anyone would want to destroy all these beautiful thorns with those gaudy blooms were beyond her ability to fathom.

"A masterpiece!" Gomez came up behind her and slipped his arms around her narrow waist. "You are a genius."

Morticia smiled, her happiness making her face light up like the surface of the moon. "Darling, I have done nothing but encourage their inner beauty." She tilted her head slightly and Gomez attacked her pale neck with a myriad of kisses and light nips.

"Cara, you make my blood boil with passion." He spun her in his arms and would have taken her then and there if Fester hadn't entered and started giggling.

"Passion tonight, my fiery prince. Fester now." Morticia's eyes promised fire and torment, everything that made love truly worth it.

"Truly the reward for the working man," Gomez cleared his throat and removed a cigarillo from the pocket of his smoking jacket. Immediately he began to puff away. "What's wrong, Fester?"

"It's Wednesday and Pugsley." He looked around the room frantically. "We were playing hide and seek."

Morticia glided across the floor to stroke his cheek. "Dear Fester, never too busy to play with the children."

"But they hid too well and I can't find them anywhere. I've even been through all the crypts. Uncle Mortimer said hello."

"Good old Mortimer. Still dead?"

"And still not very happy about it. He is the grumpiest ghost I know." Fester plopped down on the fainting couch and pouted. "I looked and looked."

"Don't be cross, Fester, they aren't here."

"What?"

"They left about an hour ago for a birthday party for one of their little friends. Lurch drove them."

"Well, gosh, I guess I'll have to wait until they get back now." That did little to quell Fester's disappointment.

"Would you like me to hide for you, dear?" Morticia carried the vase to the table and arranged it just so. Now the sun wouldn't damage it.

"Thanks, but it's not the same, Morticia. You always hide in the same spot."

"Sadly I lack the creative imagination of the children. C'est ma faiblesse."

Gomez threw the half smoked cigarillo across the room. "You don't need it. You don't need anything. Fester, avert your eyes!"

"Mother! Father!" Suddenly, their two children burst into the room, their clothes a mess, their hair soot-covered and still smoldering slightly.

Morticia welcomed her husband's attack with, "Gomez, children now."

"Seems to me that's how we ended up with these two. Children, how was the party?"

"Awesome!" Pugsley shouted. He reached into his gift bag and pulled out a smashed lump of cake and frosting. "I brought you some cake."

"Thank you, Pugsley. You are always thinking of others." Morticia's motherly pride swelled.

"It's because of the remarkable job you've done, my dear." Gomez bent down and scooped up his daughter. "Did you have fun, sweetheart?" He blew out the sizzling ends of her pigtail.

"It was wonderful, Father. They had a piñata!"

"What's that, dear?" Morticia used her handkerchief to dab at the soot on Pugsley's face.

Wednesday thought for a moment. "It's this paper thing stuffed with candy and toys. I don't think the cat liked it, though."

"Why not?"

"Pugsley got them mixed up at first. Mrs. Nelson got pretty mad."

"Little scamp." Gomez ruffled his son's hair. "It looks like you had fun."

"We did, especially the cake."

"Oh, what was special about the cake?"

"It was huge and Mrs. Nelson had it made in the shape of a volcano. It sort of smoked a little."

"It was lame," Wednesday said with an air of superiority. "We decided to improve it. Pugsley had some of those special candles Uncle Fester made."

"You mean the ones that-?"

"Uh, huh," Pugsley wrestled free from his mother's attention. "I dropped a couple down the throat of the volcano."

"Don't leave us in suspense, children. What happened?"

"And then, the cake exploded." Wednesday smiled at the memory. "That was the end of the party. We didn't even get to see Lewis open up our gift."

Pugsley nodded in agreement. "I sure hope he does before the spider dies. Father, what does collateral damage mean?"