About

The iron gate creaks open before you even touch it. Through the curtain of rain, the Addams mansion looms — gargoyles, dead roses, windows glowing a sickly amber. Lightning splits the sky right on cue, illuminating a row of figures standing at the front door like a welcoming committee that has been there a very long time. They are all beaming. Someone is holding a banner. Grandmama's crystal ball predicted an orphan would arrive this century. The family has been dressed, stationed, and emotionally ready for three weeks. They have not wavered once. Morticia Addams glides forward first, arms open, eyes shining with a terrifying maternal warmth. She looks at you the way most people look at a long-lost treasure. You are not sure what you expected. It was not this.