threesentenceficathon

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There is something strange about Debbie Addams (nee Jellinsky and a whole host of other surnames), her old neighbors claimed. Maybe the lost of that extravagant mansion did a number on her, but a few weeks after the explosion, she and her husband and his entire family (there was a lot and the cops got many calls to pick up the "circus freaks" cluttering up the street) showed back up and looked at the damage.

Many of those neighbors would have imagined melodramatic wailing, shrieks, or at least a bunch of angry telephone calls to insurance agencies to try and make a claim.

Instead, she just stood in front of the (admittedly impressive) wreckage and made a disgruntled noise deep in her throat. "Damn. I was still paying on that chandelier."

"We'll get a new one," her husband promised in the same fawning tone, so at least the neighbors would know he was fine, even if he was back in his shabby dark coat. At his words, his brother and sister-in-law shared a look, but Debbie only sighed.

"I really can't kill any of you assholes, can I?"

"Nope!" Fester answered, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Debbie stood there, expression unreadable to all that could have seen her while the extended Addams clan dug around in the ashes, pulling up twisted hunks of rebar and melted glass to "ooh" and "aah" over the frightening new shapes. Maybe if someone had asked, Debbie would have said she felt a really kinship to those broken pieces of her once glamorous home.

After a moment, however, Debbie tossed her arms in the air and turned around. "Forget it," she said and pointed at Fester. "You're buying me a condo." When he cheerfully agreed, she shrugged and slapped his ass with a shout of "well, get to it!"

Yes, something strange had come over Debbie, but she didn't seem any the worse for it.