Summary: SMK/Addams Family Crossover
Time Setting: Summer, 1986
Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs King and characters are owned by Shoot the Moon Productions. Scenes and lines are borrowed as needed for plot and setting purposes. The original Addams Family TV show is copyrighted by MGM Home Entertainment.
Author's Note: Thanks to Bohemian Fling for the inspiration. And the usual suspects for their beta skills.
Feedback: Always welcome
They're creepy and they're kooky.
Mysterious and spooky.
They're altogether ooky.
The Addams Family.
The house is a museum.
When people come to see'em.
They really are a scre-am.
The Addams Family.
Neat
Sweet
Petite
So get a witch's shawl on.
A broomstick you can crawl on.
We're going to pay a call on.
The Addams Family.
Lyrics by Vic Mizzy.
The silver Corvette came to a stop in front of 001 Cemetery Lane. The car's occupants exchanged a dubious glance upon viewing the creepy old mansion situated on the plot of land.
"What are we doing here, again?" Amanda King asked her partner.
"Billy says there are some Russians hiding out here who want to defect."
Lee Stetson shrugged. "It looks unlikely to me, but the
information came from one of our most reliable sources. C'mon." He
climbed out of the 'Vette and walked around to open her door.
He proffered his hand as he assisted her from the car. She didn't release it once she was standing next to the car, continuing to look at the house.
"It's creepy looking," Amanda reported. "Like something in a horror movie."
"It's just old," Lee insisted. "I don't think we need to worry about the boogeyman jumping out at us." He squeezed her hand reassuringly, then pulled her along behind him as he went up the walk to the front door.
He rang the bell; a foghorn sounded. They waited a few moments, but there was no further response. He knocked on the door, and it slowly creaked open. While Lee leaned forward to peer through the opening, Amanda backed away.
"I've got a bad feeling about this."
"Amanda, I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about." He smiled down
at her. They ventured through the doorway and paused in the foyer to survey
their surroundings. The room before them contained several pieces of sheet-covered
furniture. "See, it's just an abandoned house."
They stepped forward and were immediately enveloped in fog so thick they couldn't even see each other.
"Whoa! That was sudden," Lee exclaimed. He clutched her hand tighter. "Hold on, Amanda, I don't want to lose you." Her response sounded faraway and muffled by the fog. He cautiously took another step forward and found the floor was solid beneath his feet. He continued to walk slowly through the fog, Amanda's hand securely clasped within his own.
They eventually emerged from the fog into the living room. The furniture
was no longer covered with sheets, and all the room's
surfaces were neatly dusted.
"That was odd, but you were right, Cara Mia; there was nothing to worry about." Amanda was attired in a tight-fitting, black dress with long sleeves. The skirt reached all the way to the floor then flared around her feet.
"There's never anything to worry about, Cara Bella, when we are together," Lee proclaimed dramatically. His attire consisted of a black, double-breasted, pin-striped suit. He clutched a cigar in his free hand; several more could be seen protruding from the breast pocket of the suit.
"Mais oui!" Amanda agreed, smiling beatifically.
"Tish! That's French!" Lee exclaimed. He began to kiss her arm, beginning at the wrist and working his way up towards her shoulder. "You know it drives me wild when you speak French."
She smiled indulgently as she watched him, then reached out and touched his cheek. "Gomez! Where's your mustache?"
"I don't look good with a mustache," Lee replied. He turned his head and glared toward the assenting snickers emanating through a doorway.
"Mama! Papa! You're home!" Francine and Billy ran into the room and came to a stop in front of the couple.
"Did you bring me any presents?" Billy was wearing a close-fitting, striped t-shirt pulled over his rotund torso.
"We missed you so much!" Francine's hair was parted in the middle and braided. She carried a headless doll, which was clothed in a plain, black dress with a lace collar, not unlike her own.
Amanda exchanged an incredulous glance with Lee. She shrugged. "Hello, Wednesday. Hello, Pugsly." She gave them each a brief hug.
"Dear children," Lee greeted them with a pat on the head for each. "I believe you'll find something in my suitcase. Why don't you take our luggage upstairs?"
"Yes, Father." Francine curtsied and obediently went to pick up Amanda's bag. Billy followed suit, collecting Lee's.
"It's lovely to be home again," Amanda exclaimed, "But I have so much to do. The roses need to be pruned, and Cleopatra needs to be fed."
"First, you should rest," Lee insisted. "Maybe have a cup of tea?"
"That sounds perfect," Amanda agreed, moving towards a wicker chair with a basket of knitting lying beside it.
"Do you want to knit for awhile? You'll need more light," Lee said, assisting her to Morticia's favorite chair. "Uncle Fester, can you come in here?"
Paul Barnes entered the room carrying a light bulb. He went to stand
next to the chair, and stuck the light bulb in his mouth. It
immediately began to glow.
"Uncle Fester is supposed to be bald," Amanda pointed out.
"You're right; he is." Lee raised an eyebrow at Paul.
Paul glared back at him and pulled a flesh-colored latex skull mask from his back pocket. He pulled it on over his hair and tucked in the ends as best he could.
"I don't know why *you* get to be Gomez," he complained.
"It's my show, pal," Lee smirked. "This ain't 'The Wizard of Oz'."
"'It's my show', 'it's my show'," Paul mimicked until Lee jammed the light bulb back in his mouth.
"Um, I don't really feel like knitting." Amanda decided, seeing Paul's disgruntled look.
"Good," Paul declared, removing the light bulb from his mouth and dropping it into the knitting basket. "And I refuse to wear this ridiculous coat." He unbuttoned the black overcoat and flung it over a nearby chair. He was shirtless underneath and wore shorts. His chest, arms, and legs were well-muscled and hairy. Amanda and Francine, who had returned from her errand, cast admiring glances over his masculine form.
"Put that back on!" Lee gasped. "It's your costume."
"Make me!" Paul challenged.
"All right, I will!" Lee pulled a lawn flamingo off the wall and assumed a proper fencing stance. "En garde!" He glanced over at Amanda.
"Doesn't count." She shook her head. "*You* said it. Besides, I think you have other things to worry about right now."
Paul had retrieved the other flamingo, which had been hung criss-crossed
with the first, from the wall. He lunged at Lee. They
thrust and parried and chased each other about the room with elaborate
footwork and impressive dueling skills.
When it became apparent that they were evenly matched and the duel could take all night, Amanda stood up and clapped her hands for attention, "Boys, boys!" She picked up a sheaf of paper from the table and carried it over to Paul. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wear the coat. See, it says so right here in the script."
Paul stood beside her, his chest glistening with perspiration, and read the lines she indicated. He nodded, accepting defeat. "Anything for you, my dear," he declared gallantly, surreptitiously admiring the way Morticia's skin-tight dress fit Amanda's slender form like a glove.
He tossed his flamingo to Lee, who caught it expertly and turned to replace it on the wall along with his own. Paul returned his attention to Amanda, lifting her hand and gently kissing the back of it. Amanda smiled benevolently. Lee scowled as he turned back around then sprang forward to again take his place by her side.
"Back off, Fester," he growled. "Morticia is mine!" He grasped her wrist, pulling her hand from Paul's clasp, and possessively encircled her waist with his other arm.
Paul winked at Amanda, retrieved his coat, and chucked Francine under the chin as he passed her. He bowed with a flourish, sweeping the skull mask from his head as he took his leave of the room's occupants.
"We may have to recast that part after all," Lee groused.
"Que sera, sera," Amanda shrugged. Lee's eyes lit up, and he again began to plant kisses on her arm. "That wasn't French!" she protested, half-heartedly.
"Who cares?" Lee asked, planting a final kiss on her collarbone.
Dotty entered the room carrying a steaming cup. Her perfectly coiffed hair was in stark contrast to the disheveled black dress she was wearing.
"Thank you, Grandmama," Amanda said. "Is that my tea?"
"Actually, darling, it's milk," Dotty replied. "It's better for you."
"Just milk?" Amanda raised an eyebrow.
"With a splash of Galliano," Dotty explained, "for your nerves."
"There's nothing wrong with my nerves. I'd prefer tea."
"Suit yourself." Dotty shrugged and began to sip the contents of the cup herself.
"Your hair looks magnificent, Grandmama," Lee declared.
"Thank you, Gomez," Dotty responded. "I just came from Emelio's. He always knows just how I like it."
"Well, you look fabulous. We'll have to beat off your suitors with a stick."
"Oh, may I?" Billy volunteered, "It sounds fun!"
"I'll let you know, Pugsly." Dotty appeared to be considering the idea, as everybody else nodded in agreement that it sounded fun.
"Pugsly is always willing to help out around the house, n'est pas?" Amanda quickly thought of something French to say. Lee was immediately at her side, again kissing her arm with gusto. Amanda smiled contentedly.
This time, Lee's ministrations were interrupted by a bell.
"Mail's here!" Amanda called out gaily. Effram Beaman entered the room with a stack of mail and brought it to her. "Thank you, Thing." She looked him up and down suspiciously.
Francine rolled her eyes. "Believe me, he's *all* hands," she assured the group, answering the unspoken question.
Beaman began to wiggle his fingers at her in an exaggerated manner. Lee stepped forward. "Thank you, Thing," he spoke firmly, tilting his head towards the door, indicating that 'Thing' should leave. Beaman's shoulders slumped. His fingers slowly and dejectedly spelled 'W-E-D-N-E-S-D-A-Y' in sign language as he left the room.
Amanda resumed her seat and began to sort through the mail. "You still don't have your tea, Querida," Lee observed solicitously. He reached over and pulled on an embroidered, tasseled strip hanging down the wall. A gong sounded loudly, vibrating through the house.
"You rang?" Fred Fielder asked upon entering the room. He cleared his throat then repeated the question in a deeper voice.
Dotty stared at him disbelievingly. "HE's supposed to be Lurch?" she asked.
Amanda shrugged. "We don't have anybody tall enough in the cast."
"Lurch, bring Mrs. Addams some tea," Lee ordered.
"Yes, sir," Fred responded in a low voice then bowed stiffly and left
the room.
"Thank you, Bubula." Amanda smiled benignly at Lee, who puffed out his chest proudly and leered back at her.
Their interaction was disturbed when Dr. Smyth entered the room. He was wearing a long, blond wig which covered his face, head, and shoulders. He removed his cigarette holder and chattered at them nonsensically.
"An inspired piece of casting!" Amanda clapped her hands in delight.
"I particularly like the wig," Lee agreed.
Dr. Smyth impatiently shifted from one foot to another and babbled at them some more.
"Hmm, I guess he's trying to tell us something. What is it, Cousin Itt?" Lee regarded Dr. Smyth quizzically, then tilted his head and listened carefully. A look of concentration formed on his face as Dr. Smyth prattled on.
"I think he wants you to look at something outside," Francine volunteered.
"How do you know?" Lee asked her.
She waved her hand dismissively. "Years of experience."
Lee nodded in acceptance. Dr. Smyth stuck his cigarette back in his mouth and puffed in satisfaction. He stuck his hands in his pockets and waited expectantly as Lee turned to Amanda.
"Cara bella," Lee held out his hand.
"Mon cherie." Amanda stood and took his hand, smiling triumphantly when he again began to anoint her arm with kisses.
"Run along, children!" Dotty ordered, coming over and pushing them gently towards the door.
As they re-entered the foyer, the fog again enveloped them. "Gomez!" Amanda cried in alarm as she lost sight of her partner.
"I'm right here, Morticia. Don't worry," Lee reassured her, patting her arm with his other hand.
They emerged from the fog onto the front porch. Blinking in the bright sunshine, they turned back to gaze through the open doorway.
"What the hell was that all about?" Lee exclaimed.
"What was what about, Lee?" Amanda inquired innocently.
"*That*, Amanda!" Lee insisted, gesturing towards the open doorway. "You, me, the others. Those clothes!" He looked at her, noting that she was once again attired in the pink-striped shirtdress she had been wearing when he picked her up this morning.
"Come on, Lee. They're not here. Let's go report in to Billy." Amanda blinked her wide, brown eyes at him and smiled munificently. The door slammed shut.
"Yeah, OK," Lee blinked and ran his hand through his hair.
Amanda tugged on his hand and pulled him back down the walk to his car. When they reached it, Lee stopped and put his hands on her waist; he smiled winningly. Her eyes twinkled and she slid her hands up his lapels to his shoulders. They leaned in for a kiss.
"Where do you want to go for dinner?" he asked when they separated. He reached around her to open the car door.
"I don't know; can I think about it?" she requested, settling into the passenger seat.
"Mais oui!"
"You know I love it when you speak French," Amanda sighed, kissing his hand before releasing it. Lee grinned in response as he gently shut her door and walked around to his side of the car.
The End