Chapter 12: Getting Back on Their Feet

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Gordon, Tulley and Mrs. Craven were standing underneath all the chain levers in the vault. They each grabbed hold of one and pulled. Instantly, three metal hands grabbed them and pulled them up and through a tube where they landed outside.

"You're doing this on purpose." Mrs. Craven accused her son.

"That's right mother. Isn't this fun?" He replied sarcastically.

"I'll race you back." Tulley said, equally sarcastic.

...

Gomez sat emotionless in a chair while Thing rubbed his head.

"Yes, we've been forced from our home. Yes, we've been betrayed by those we trusted, and yes (Y/n) is being held captive by those terrible people, but we are Addamses, and we will not submit." Morticia said firmly.

"Who recalls the old fable of the tortoise and the hare? The swift yet lazy little cottontail and his slow but determined companion? What does this story teach us?" She asked.

"Kill the hare! Skin it. Boil it." Grandma suggested.

"Put the tortoise on the highway." Wednesday said.

"During rush hour." Pugsley added.

"Yes. We will survive. Poison us. Strangle us. Break our bones. We will come back for more. And why?"

"Because we like it." Grandma said proudly.

"Because we're Addamses." Pugsley answered.

"And we'll save (Y/n)." Wednesday added.

"Your girlfriend." Pugsley teased.

"Yes. My girlfriend. And no one else's." Wednesday stated.

...

Outside the motel where they were staying, Lurch passed Wednesday and Pugsley who were selling lemonade, if you could even call it that.

"Here Lurch. On the house." Pugsley held up a glass and handed it to Lurch.

Lurch took a sip and fire blew out of his mouth and set a nearby statue of fire.

...

Morticia sat in a lady's office, applying for a job.

"We have so many homemakers re-entering the work force. Your domestic skills can be very valuable. Uh, college?" She asked.

"Private tutors." she answered.

"Major?"

"Spells and hexes."

"Liberal arts." The lady assumed. "What about your husband? Is he currently employed?"

"He's going through a bad patch at the moment. But it's not his fault." Morticia explaiend.

"Of course not. What is he, a loafer? A hopeless lay-about? A shiftless dreamer?" The lady asked sympathetically.

"Not anymore." Morticia replied sadly.

...

Back at Wednesday and Pugsley's lemonade stand, a Girl Scout carrying boxes of cookies approached them.

"Is this made for real lemons?" She asked.

"Yes." Wednesday told her.

"I only like all natural fruits and beverages, organically grown with no preservatives. Are you sure they're real lemons?" She asked snobbishly.

"Yes." Pugsley said.

Well, I'll tell you what. I'll buy a cup, if you buy a box of my delicious Girl Scout cookies. Do we have a deal?"

"Are they made from real Girl Scouts?" Wednesday asked.

The girl glared at them for a moment, before huffing and walking away.

...

Morticia sat in front of a group of little kids telling them a story.

"And so, the witch lured Hansel and Gretel into the candy house by promising them more sweets. And she told them to look in the oven. And she was about to push them in, when lo and behold, Handel pushed the poor, defenseless witch into the oven instead where she was burned alive, writhing in agony. Now boys and girls, what do you think that feels like?" She asked.

The kids looked at her with shock before they all started crying.

...

Mrs. Craven and Gordon were sitting at the table eating lunch.

"After lunch well try again." She announced to Gordon.

"Yes, mother." Gordon muttered, playing with his food.

"We'll find the money. Meanwhile, we have this little nest, quiet and cozy. Without that dreadful family. (Y/n) is still here, but she's locked away, so she shouldn't be a bother."

"Yes, mother." Gordon muttered.

...

Speaking of (Y/n), she was still locked in her room trying to find a way out. Her windows were barred up and the door had three different locks on it.

She was pacing back and forth when she heard the doors opening. It was her grandmother. She entered carrying a loaf of bread and a cup of water.

"I brought you lunch."

"You can't keep me here forever." (Y/n) told her.

"Well of course not. I just need to keep you here until we get into the vault. Then I'll get rid of you." She replied in a casual tone.

"You're not going to get away with this."

"And who's going to stop me?" She scoffed. "Your little boyfriend? You don't really believe he loves you do you?"

"He loves me more then you do!" She snapped.

"Don't talk to me like that you little brat. I took care of you!" Her grandmother snarled.

"Yeah, only so you could kill me and take my inheritance!" She retorted.

Her grandmother slapped her across the face.

"You'd better watch your tone you ungrateful child. Your lucky I still need you alive in case this backfires, or I'd have tossed you out that window when I had the chance!" Her grandmother left the room and locked the door again.

(Y/n) sat down on the floor and began to cry. She hoped that Wednesday would come to save her.

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