The sun had barely dared to rise over the Addams estate — not out of fear, of course, but out of respect. No one wished to disturb the delicate symphony of creaks, groans, and hushed whispers that danced through the mansion’s endless corridors like loyal ghosts.

Inside the grand and delightfully foreboding dining room, the chandeliers tinkled above the long, timeworn table as Gomez Addams dipped his perfectly charred toast into a goblet of thick, midnight-black espresso. Still in his maroon velvet robe—trimmed with cobwebs that shimmered faintly when he moved—he sighed contentedly.

Across from him, Morticia sat like a vision from a haunted oil painting, her pale fingers deftly snipping the heads off decayed roses, arranging them lovingly in a vase of soil and bone meal.

“Mon cher,” Gomez breathed, eyes shining as he admired her from behind a cloud of steam. “You sever those stems like the French severed kings. It’s… divine.”

Morticia gave him a small, knowing smile. “And you always make death sound so romantic, my love.”

Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek echoed from upstairs, followed by a thud, a muffled giggle, and the faint squelch of something… gelatinous.

A moment later, Wednesday Addams, age six, appeared at the top of the grand staircase. Her black dress was slightly singed at the hem, her pigtails askew. She gripped the edge of the banister with one hand, and in the other, she held a small glass jar. Inside it, something green and three-eyed floated lazily.

Behind her trudged Pugsley, age ten, shirt smeared with soot, clutching what looked suspiciously like a handmade detonator. He was whistling innocently, which made it worse.

“Mother. Father,” Wednesday announced solemnly, lifting the jar. “The frog from last night has developed a second heartbeat. And possibly a thirst for blood. I’ve named him Benedict.”

Morticia stood, dark pride gleaming in her eyes. “How precious, darling. Do bring him down—your father hasn’t had a decent surprise in his cup since that bat hatchling.”

Pugsley grinned. “And I finished the tunnel to the furnace room. It only caved in twice!”

Gomez beamed, arms flung wide in pure paternal joy. “Ah, my beautiful children. Such promise! Such carnage!”