A Haunting We Will Go

Posted on Wed 21st Nov, 2018 @ 8:19pm by Purulence Addams

483 words; about a 2 minute read

Mission: Oblivion
Location: Addams Parlor, Queen Anne Villas, Deck 1554
Timeline: MD 18, 1900

Watching the black widow walk across her black leggings and up the back of the sofa, Ischemia sighed. "I'm bored. We haven't done anything interesting in months."

Without pausing in her viola playing, Chlamydia turned away from the harpsichord and regarded her generation's middle child. She refrained from quoting their mother's favorite aphorism, that only boring people get bored, and instead noted, "The feast of the given thanks approaches."

"So it does," Ischemia said thoughtfully. "I'm sure we have much thanks to give, but tradition calls for sweet potatoes, and I haven't seen a single one anywhere on the base. I don't know what that gardener fellow is thinking to leave them out. And anyway, where would we find a turkey large enough for 20 or more? Replicators are only so big, and I don't fancy building a turkey from parts." As she voiced her discontent, she realized the real problem was that she had virtually nothing to do, and in reality, not a lot.

Chlamydia lowered the bow from her viola and looked thoughtful. "Viktor von Frankenstein was one of ours," she noted dryly. "As for the centerpiece entree... there are those birds they race at the downs, the chockobeaus? Or we could make a turkey loaf, and mold it into something interesting... a coffin, perhaps, or a bat?"

"Two smaller turkeys, one for each end of the table, could work well instead of a single huge one," Purulence said. "And we have to have a honey-glazed ham--if it's even possible to get one out here. Shall I make pie?"

"You both speak as if this were the savage wastes of Charidor," Chlamydia observed. "In fact, one-oh-nine is entirely civilized. I hardly even have to wear my six-gun, 'cept for Sunday-go-to-meeting."

"I figured you more for the 9mm Beretta type," Purulence said brightly.

"Oh, no, dear, not nearly enough romance. A Colt Peacemaker, or a Chicago Typewriter for me," the eldest sister answered flippantly.

"I'll keep that in mind, next time I go bullet shopping," Purulence said. "Getting back to pie--I'm planning a cherry one. Do we want pumpkin? Pecan?, Blueberry-feta?"

Ischemia yawned, "Bor-ing. How about something completely different and unexpected. Even Addams traditions can get stale, so let's break them!"

She suddenly sat up and spoke with enthusiasm. "Away with bats and coffins and spiders! Away with turkeys and pumpkin pies and stuffing! Let's back up to those running things you mentioned, Chlamy. They're rather large, aren't they? But it fits different! Do they even sell them for food? What about a new recipe? Air-roasting or ... oh, how about cooking it in a fire pit, like a pig!"

"You look into the techniques of Hawai'ian pit barbecue," Chlamydia directed, "and I shall look into the acquisition of a suitably-sized carcass." She raised her bow to the strings again. "As soon as I finish this movement."
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