Chapter Text
Wednesday considered the determined expression on her roommate's face, and after a few moments of internal calculation, decided on the most appropriate course of action.
"Enid, if you believe eating an entire Chipotle Quesarito in one sitting is the best way to trigger your lycanthropic transformation, then I won't stop you."
Across the table, Enid clasped her hands together and beamed. "Thanks, roomie!" she said. "I knew I could count on you!"
In front of them sat the quesarito. It was, apparently, a type of burrito. But instead of being wrapped in tortilla, it was wrapped in a cheese quesadilla. How many calories it had Wednesday couldn't even begin to guess. It hadn't even been on the menu. Enid had put in a special request for it.
Wednesday could appreciate the idea of a restaurant with a second, secret menu. But there was no way this was going to help Enid become a werewolf. At best it’d give her indigestion.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Enid said, raising a hand. “You think it’s all crap. But my cousin Jake swore this worked for him.”
Wednesday examined the quesarito. They were sitting in the Chipotle, on opposite sides of a chrome table. Enid had dragged her here after class, insisting simply that it was “important.”
She’d ordered both types of rice, both types of beans, every topping, every sauce, and double steak. There was so much cheese in the quesarito. There was so much cheese.
“Enid, you know I like suffering, but this is extreme, even for me,” Wednesday said. “This is like some kind of biological weapon.”
Enid rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad. It’s just carbs.”
“I’m serious Enid, I think this might be breaking international law. No food should be made this cheesy. If they fed this to prisoners it’d be considered a war crime.”
Enid set her face in a hard line. “Okay, well. I need to do this. Right now, I’m the only who can’t wolf out. So, are you going to be here for me, or not?”
A flicker of some emotion in Wednesday’s mind. Sympathy? She knew how much Enid was struggling with her inability to transform.
But she was Wednesday Addams… she didn’t feel sympathy. Sympathy was a childish emotion. No, what she was feeling was probably just morbid curiosity. What would the quesarito do to someone if ingested?
“Enid, I can’t say that I think this’ll do what you want it to, but I’ll be here for moral support, and to write the elegy at your funeral if this thing kills you,” Wednesday said.
Enid blinked, and Wednesday realized with some shock that her roommate was actually tearing up.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” Enid said. “You’re gonna get to see me wolf out for the first time. It’s gonna be like, so cool.”
To be honest, Wednesday wasn’t sure why Enid wanted her first transformation to be in the middle of a Chipotle, but she wasn’t about to question it. She suspected Enid hadn’t actually thought that far.
“Wait.” Enid frowned suddenly. “I think… I think Jake actually said I would need to eat two quesaritos for it to work.”
It took everything in Wednesday’s power to suppress the snort and keep her stone-faced expression. This Jake guy was definitely playing a prank. And it was going to be glorious.
“I want to die,” Enid moaned.
“That can be arranged,” Wednesday said.
They were back in the dorm. Enid was curled up on her bed, her hand on her stomach. Two quesaritos: eaten. Wolf transformation: zip, zero, nada.
“Why did I think that would help?” Enid cried. “Wednesday, I’m such an idiot. Eating quesaritos? God!”
Wednesday sighed. Enid had been crying for the last five minutes straight. Ever since the parents’ visit, this had become a regular occurrence. It was a huge distraction from her case. Worse, it was distracting Thing, and she needed him focused.
No, there was only one appropriate course of action. She couldn’t put up with Enid’s angst any longer.
“Look,” she said, sitting up and turning toward her roommate. “I’m not one to get involved in others’ peoples personal lives, but for you I’ll make an exception. Enid, we’re going to solve your problem. I’m going to help you wolf out.”
Enid looked up at her through tear-stained eyes. “You… you mean that?” she said.
Wednesday churned through a series of responses, each one with a varying degree of snark. Finally, she settled on something sincere. There was more at stake, after all.
“That’s what roommates are for.”
“Oh, Wednesday!” Enid bounded over, arms outstretched, her indigestion apparently forgotten. She stopped just short of the divider, seeing Wednesday’s icy stare. “Oh, right,” she said sheepishly. “No hugs.”
“I have a few ideas for how we might get started,” Wednesday said.
She was going to have to do some research into lycanthropy, gather some material. It might be a lot of effort, though admittedly, the topic did seem interesting.
As for her ideas on where to start… she did have a couple, but she suspected Enid wouldn’t like them. Not unless she was into... well. Wednesday suspected waterboarding was more of an Addams family pastime.
“How do you feel about torture?” she asked Enid, innocently.