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“Merry Christmas, honey,” Morticia said, handing a package wrapped in shiny black Christmas paper to Gomez.
He unwrapped the package, pulling out a rope. “Precisely what I was looking forward to for Christmas. Now I can tie the two of us up as the perfect Christmas package.”
Which cued the overly affectionate, overly passionate, lovey-dovey feelings for each other. Wednesday stared, frowning, before finally uttering. “Gross.”
“Thank you for the grenades,” Pugsley piped up.
“I liked the voodoo doll,” Wednesday said. “Even though I’ve moved onto bigger, better things.”
Thing tapped his fingers. Morticia pulled away. “Oh. He enjoys the manicure kit that you’re friend Enid sent.”
“Not surprised,” Wednesday said. “By the way? Where’s Uncle Fester?”
“I don’t know,” Gomez frowned. “I’ve been expecting him to….”
As if on cue, Fester attacked, always keeping his older brother on his feet.