They do what to the beef?

Posted on Sat 26th Aug, 2017 @ 3:12pm by Purulence Addams

631 words; about a 3 minute read

Mission: Unity Week
Location: The Addams House, the American Villiage

The door creaked delightfully as Chlamydia opened it, stepping in to her youngest sister's bedroom. "Purulence, dear... are you awake?" she asked, soto voce.

Purulence sighed to herself. It hadn't taken much beyond the squeaking door to awaken her; she was a light sleeper. She opened one eye--one of her more eccentric talents--and caught sight of Chlamydia standing in the doorway. "I'm awake," she said. "What's up?" She sat up and felt for the floor with her toes and turned on the bedside lamp as she did so.

"Shh," Chlamydia shhed her sister. "Schemy's still asleep. I thought perhaps we could escape down to the American Villiage for some breakfast, and converse without her analyzing our hidden motives in every word."

Laughter bubbled up in Purulence, but she kept it silent and nodded at Chlamydia as her shoulders shook. If the three of us could ever all work together on something, instead of always splitting off into a pair, we could be unstoppable, Purulence thought, even as she could barely stifle a giggle at Chlamydia's apt description of Ischemia.

"As long as I can get waffles," she whispered to Chlamydia. "Shall I meet you downstairs? Give me about ten minutes."

"I shall await you on the porch," Chlamydia murmured, slipping back out of the room and ghosting down the stairs.

Purulence hastily visited the bathroom, changed into a flowing, pale blue dress, grabbed her purse, and hurried down the stairs. She stepped on the sides of the stairs, not in the middle, to keep them from squeaking under her weight. Reaching the first floor, she very, very quietly opened the front door and stepped onto Chlamydia's porch, gently closing the door behind her.

"Ready to go," Purulence whispered. "Is Thing coming along, too?"

"Dear Thing is never far away," Chlamydia answered breezily, linking her arm through her youngest sister's, drawing her down the porch steps and across the yard. "Have you brought your appetite?"

Purulence snickered. "Have you ever known my appetite to not appear when waffles are involved? I promise, I will even use sugar-free syrup--and I've actually lost a couple of pounds."

Chlamydia patted Purulence's hand fondly. "You're mistaking me for your other sister," she said. "I'm the physician, not the attourney; I don't care how much you weigh, as long as you're happy with it -- and you keep up with the nanotherapy to keep your vasculature clear of plaque."

"I'm not happy with it," Purulence said. "It slows me down. Or, at least, I feel slower. It distorts my face. I realized that when I looked at old images of myself when I was a bit lighter and then looked in the mirror. This is not the me I want to be. But I've been good for the last few days, and I really love waffles, so I think I can indulge a little bit this morning."

Chlamydia nodded. She didn't offer the services of her staff nutritionist or guidance on low-impact exercise, though both thoughts crossed her mind fleetingly. Though she sometimes acted childlike, Purulence was a grown woman, capable of plotting her own course through weight loss. "Waffles are nice," she agreed instead. "I was hoping for a corned beef hash scramble, myself. With potatoes. Possibly seasoned with the blood of my enemies."

"I hope the blood of your enemies is in short supply," Purulence said with a laugh. "Now Schemy's, on the other hand...She might have several gallons' worth."

"Of enemies?" Chlamydia asked, sounding as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. "Or blood?"

"I shudder to think how she might possibly have gallons of enemies," Purulence said, unable to hold back a giggle.

"If there's a way," Chlamydia laughed, "our sister would find it!"

 

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