(THUNDER CRASHING)

(PLAYING HARPSICHORD)

It's unbelievable.

Our own son.

He was always such a good boy.

Keeping to the basement, playing with his octopus.

It's terrible.

You--You must do something about it.

After all, darling, the Addams family honor.

You're right. Family honor.

(THUNDER CRASHING)

Thank you, Thing.

(THUNDER CRASHES)

It's worse than I thought. He's wearing it.

(GASPS) I don't believe it.

I want to see it with my own eyes.

We've lost him.

Can I look, Mother?

Certainly not.

Grandmama, take her to her room.

I can't stand these weird things.

I'm gonna sit in my tree house and watch the lightning.

Our poor boy. Something's come over him.

What are we going to do?

Darling, I must have time to think.

After all, this isn't some boyish prank

like setting the house on fire.

You've spoiled the boy, that's what you've done.

How?

How?

Well, what other boy has a playroom like this?

I don't see any harm in a few simple toys.

You call this rack a simple toy?

Why, this is luxury, pure luxury.

And how about this battle-ax?

It was the boy's fifth birthday,

and he was so tired of his blowgun.

Oh, fine.

You know, my father wouldn't even let me

touch one of these until I was eight.

You know, I didn't become what I am by accident.

I had upbringing like no other.

Like no other.

Eight years old.

And how old was he when you gave him this little toy?

That's not Pugsley's, that's little Wednesday's.

Oh, Wednesday's. You're gonna spoil her, too, huh?

(SIGHING) Perhaps we have been pampering them too much.

Well, there's really nothing to worry about.

Oh, yes, there is.

A 10-year-old boy sneaking around in a Boy Scout uniform.

GOMEZ: Darling, there's something I was hoping I wouldn't have to tell you.

The other afternoon I saw Pugsley playing with a bat.

A bat? Oh, well, that's more like our boy.

A baseball bat.

It's a game played outdoors. In the sun.

Oh, no.

You know what I think?

The boy needs help.

No, tomorrow's another day.

We'll bide our time.

Maybe he'll come out of it.

Perhaps you're right.

We can only hope.

Let's go upstairs to bed.

Why, thank you, Thing.

Thank heaven Thing is still normal.

Come along, darling, I want to show you my new nightgown.

Do you like it?

Adore it.

Tish, let's go down to the cave.

Oh, that we save for special occasions, bubele.

You know what you do when you call me that.

Well, it just slipped out.

Now control yourself, Gomez.

I'll try.

Let me do that. You did mine last night.

Oh, that scent's beautiful.

Buy a barrel of it.

That's the only way it comes.

Darling, I'm sorry,

I just can't think of anything tonight except our poor Pugsley.

(SIGHS)

I understand.

Who'd ever thought we'd have a problem child?

I wonder if blondes do have more fun.

(TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWING)

Watch it, Tish. Watch it!

Wonderful.

For a minute there I thought I was going to miss.

I love to watch you play with these trains.

It brings out the real you.

It's not the same without little Pugsley.

He's a great train wrecker.

It's a shame to see natural talent go to waste.

Tish, would you like to see me blow up three trains?

Oh, darling, you know I would.

But I have to fix your lunch.

We're having your favorite, eye of newt.

Broiled.

Just a minute, Son. What's the hurry?

I've got things to do. I gotta go.

But you forgot to feed Aristotle.

Gomez,

have you noticed how Pugsley's been ignoring poor Aristotle lately?

Well, he does look a little pale around the tentacles.

Look at those sad eyes.

I wonder where he went in such a hurry.

Oh, I do hope he went to the mineshaft.

The dankness does things for him.

(GASPING) Gomez!

What is it?

He's out there playing with an it.

Maybe it's a baby armadillo.

Please, let's not pretend.

We all know what it is.

It's a P-U-P-P-Y.

Lurch.

(GONG RESOUNDING)

You rang?

Go get Pugsley and take him to his room.

I wanna have a talk with him.

He's out there playing with...

I know.

Well, maybe we could all learn to love the little P-U-P-P-Y.

Uncle Fester, go to your room.

Come with me.

I can't right now.

(WHIMPERING)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

GOMEZ: May I come in, Son?

Just a second.

I hope I'm not interrupting.

No, I wasn't doing anything special.

Good, I thought we'd have a chat.

(SIGHS)

May be a little difficult for you to realize, Pugsley,

but I was once a boy your age.

It is a little hard to think of you at 10.

Oh, I was a typical child.

Faced with all the typical temptations.

The important thing, Pugsley,

is for a boy not to take a wrong turn.

I'll never forget when I was a boy,

I stood in front of Bailey's department store,

admiring a display of gaudy uniforms, mess kits, pup tents,

those fat little knives.

I often wondered what would have happened

if I had tied that first knot.

Gosh, Dad, you might have ended up as a Scoutmaster.

Boy, you're sicker than I thought.

Don't you realize that all he's going to grow up to be is a dog?

Oh, it went that badly, dear?

Terrible.

He even called me "Dad."

Thank heaven he's never called me "Mom."

First serious talk I've had with the lad and I botched it.

Where did we fail, Gomez?

Who knows?

I have it. He's still a baby.

Tonight when I tuck him in,

I'll read him something nice and soothing.

"Once upon a midnight dreary

"While I pondered, weak and weary

"Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore

"While I nodded, nearly napping,

suddenly there came a tapping..."

Pugsley, darling, you're not listening.

The Raven was always one of your favorites.

You said it made you feel so nice and cozy.

I like it all right.

I've just got other things on my mind.

Mother knows.