Original subtitles

I'm so excited!

I haven't been dumped in the river in ages!

Glad to oblige, old man.

Thank you.

Hm?

What is it, Thing?

Pugsley did what?

It's worse than I thought.

He's wearing it.

I can't believe it.

"I will be the very best that I can be."

"I will obey my elders and serve my country and help my neighbors."

He's speaking in tongues.

My Pugsley.

The junior trooper...

Morticia.

Gomez.

I-I-I don't know what to say.

Querida..

Trust me.

We'll get through this.

He was always such a good boy.

Digging up relatives.

Playing in the mineshaft

I know, I know.

Oh, Gomez...

Where did we go wrong?

♪ Welcome to the Addams family ♪

♪ How you do, the Addams family? ♪

♪ Come into the Addams family ♪

Now!

Chachacha! *snap snap*

♪ Wonderfully scary ♪

♪ And pleasantly hairy ♪

♪ Delightfully? Very. ♪

♪ It's the Addams family! ♪

*snap snap*

♪ Welcome to the Addams family ♪

♪ Come into the Addams family ♪

♪ Come into the Addams family ♪

Now!

Chachacha! *snap snap*

Mama, what is it?

Look!

My kitchen!

It's spotless. It, it's gleaming.

It's.

It's sanitized.

It's ruined.

What monster could have done such a thing?

Oh.

The years I've spent,

building up the grime,

to just,

the right amount of thickness.

And the floors.

They're so... clean.

We'll never be able to eat off of them now.

Do you smell something?

It's coming from... over there.

Cherry pie?

Cherry pie?

I better call the police and file a report.

Good idea.

Maybe they can catch this vandal,

before he destroys someone else's kitchen.

Hello, operator?

This is an emergency.

Fester, hang up.

Read this.

"Thanks for being such a great Grandma."

"Love, Pugsley."

Pugsley?

Come on.

Let's get rid of this stuff.

If Morticia saw the kitchen like this,

she'd die of a broken heart.

The spice rack and flowers are bad enough.

But why did he have to ruin my cauldrons?

Polished. Spic and span!

The child is warped, I tell ya.

Warped!

None of this would've happened if he hadn't joined the Junior Troopers.

Next thing you know,

he'll be staying in all night,

and playing with toys.

I'm locking the doors to my room until he comes to his senses.

I don't want him getting his hands on my...

... dynamite!

My bombs... !

My stockpile!

I don't believe it.

He's cleaned out my entire closet.

He was just gonna throw it all away... !

Unbelievable.

That's it.

Pugsley must be stopped before it's too late.

There, there.

Two outta three?

Haha!

Mother,

he even vacuumed all the black widows out of the room!

I can't live like this.

I know, dear.

You can sleep in the crawlspace until this blows over.

You know what you and Gomez did?

You spoiled the boy.

How?

Look around!

This is just your average playroom.

You call this bed of nails average?

We gave that to him for his fifth birthday.

Thank you, dear.

And look at this!

I was ten years old before I was allowed to blow up the city dump.

Mother was so strict.

What about this luxury item?

That's not Pugsley's.

That's Wednesdays'.

Oh, Wednesday's.

Well, you spoil her too.

Wednesday?

Please? I'm talking.

Perhaps this...

This cult he's joined isn't that bad.

It's not just a cult.

He's doing other weird things, too.

I didn't want to tell you.

But the other day, I saw him playing with a bat.

A bat?

How lovely.

A baseball bat.

Baseball?

It's a game.

Played outdoors.

With... people!

Oh, no.

What are we going to do?

We'll give him another week.

If he doesn't grow out of it,

we'll take action.

Someone has to pick up the slack.

I hate what you've done to the place.

Really?

I think it's a nice change.

Let's play.

Sure.

Hey.

How about a game of Checkers?

I won't tell Mother.

This time.

Come here.

Hold this.

Wednesday?

This cord is dangerous.

It could set the whole house on fire.

I know.

So, could this.

Mother was right.

You have joined a cult.

It's not a cult.

It's the Junior Troopers.

You know, they have a sister organization.

The Junior Troupettes.

Maybe you could join.

Do you like it?

I adore it.

Oh Tish, let's go down to the cave.

Control yourself, Gomez.

I'm trying.

It's Pugsley, isn't it?

I'm sorry, love.

I can think of nothing else.

I understand.

Who'd have thought we would have had a problem child?

May I come in, son?

Uh-huh.

I hope I'm not interrupting.

Nope, I was just fixing this cord.

What are you doing?

You could electrocute yourself with that.

Here, let me show you how.

But, Dad.

This cord is dangerous.

That's why I'm taping it up.

Son.

Your sister told me you put out a perfectly good fire.

But the whole house could have gone up in smoke.

This is gonna take longer than I thought.

Son, it's okay to try new things.

But,

when you start hurting your sister and your Mother,

well, it's time to pull back.

Do you understand, Pugsley?

I think so.

That's my boy.

Dad?

Yes.

Son?

Will you help me sell my Good Little Trooper badge?

Watch it, Thing.

You haven't nicked me, once.

How did it go, dear?

Terrible.

He even called me...

"Dad."

Oh thank heaven, he's never called me "Mom."

My first serious talk with the boy, and I failed.

Lurch,

your face has a healthy glow.

What's wrong?

Follow me.

Hi-ho, hi-ho! I'm Troop Master Smiddly.

We're here to see Pugsley.

Tish, what are we going to do?

Hello, Mr. Addams. Hello?

Thing, we need a psychiatrist.

Dr. Bloodman, at least he sounds friendly.

Dr. Bloodman's office?

This is Morticia Addams.

We have an emergency.

Now, Mr. and Mrs. Addams.

It will be all right.

We'll get you some Prozac,

a little electroshock therapy.

Electroshock.

I like the way he thinks.

But we're not here about Morticia.

We're worried about our Pugsley.

And what is a Pugsley?

He's our son.

You know,

nicknames may start out as fun,

but they can actually be quite hurtful.

What's his real name?

Pugsley.

Moving on.

What seems to be the trouble?

For starters, it's those horrible clothes he's been wearing.

Heavy metal.

That would be an improvement.

Really?

And that's not the worst of it.

You should see his friends from the cult.

This sounds serious.

Look,

most parents suffer these problems.

The weird clothes,

the strange friends.

Pugsley just wants your attention.

So, give him some.

Cater to his childish whims.

Indulge his new interests.

Invite some of his little friends from the cult.

Over to the house.

Never!

Never!

Halt.

Hi-di yoho.

You must be Mr. and Mrs. Addams.

I'm Jerome Smiddly, uh, Pugsley's Troop Master.

Why don't I introduce you to a few of the guys?

I'm Biff.

I'm Willie.

I'm Arthur.

I'm scared.

These are for you, Mrs. Addams.

I picked them from my mommy's garden.

Well.

Tell her that a little battery acid

will get rid of these right away.

O...kay...

Well,

make yourselves comfortable.

So, Mr. and Mrs. Addams,

did Pugsley tell you about the fun, fun, fun camping trip we have planned?

Oh, Gomez.

The parents are always the last to know.

Yeah, we're going to go hiking next weekend

and sing around the campfire.

Campfire!

What a great idea!

Wednesday,

penny for your thoughts?

When burying someone alive,

it is more humane to do it after they have eaten.

So they won't be hungry, too.

Willie, come back!

Willie!

I'll help you look, sir!

She won't hurt you.

Now, come back inside.

Okay, kids.

Let's have a campfire.

What?

What an excellent idea!

What?

Ahh.

Mr. Addams, have you lost your mind?

Dad, don't!

What do you people think you're doing?

What does it look like?

We're making a campfire.

Are you nuts?

You don't build a fire in your home!

Why not?

We do it all the time.

Give me that!

Invigorating!

Let's get out of here.

This place gives me the creeps.

Here comes that girl.

You know,

there is no cure for smallpox.

Go away!

You're evil!

I can't believe those Junior Troopers left without saying goodbye.

And after we made them such a nice fire.

Is it safe to come out now?

Mama, have you been hiding there the whole time?

Of course I have.

You know I never socialize.

At least,

not with people.

I'm with Mama.

Those squeaky clean kids...

Talk about setting a bad example.

But it's what Dr. Bloodman recommended.

"Bloodman"?

I'll bet he's not even a real witch-doctor.

Morticia.

Look at the junk Pugsley has stowed away here.

-Surfboard!

Fishing lines!

Volley balls!

Life jackets!

You know what that boy needs?

Someone to knock some good old fashioned common sense into him.

I'll go get my boxing gloves.

Fester, that won't be necessary.

Gomez and I will handle the situation.

Besides, I'm sure the worst is over.

We've catered to his every whim,

and now he knows we accept him unconditionally.

Why, little Pugsley is probably back to normal, already.

Anyone want a ride?

It's fun!

For the whole, family~

You were saying?

Dr. Bloodman?

Pugsley is getting worse.

You should see the strange things he's bringing into this house.

But we did cater to his whims.

We even had that appalling, little cult over to our home.

Nothing works.

Well, you just have to come over.

Thank you so much for coming over.

You can see just how disturbed our little Pugsley is.

Look at this place.

I can see the problem.

Well, you asked us to cater to him, and this is the result.

It's horrible.

To be honest,

you went a little too far.

... much too far!

In fact, this is the most extreme case of over-catering I've ever seen... !

Is Pugsley in his room?

I've got something to cheer him up.

Excuse me, but, uh.

Aren't those dangerously large firecrackers for a child?

Those aren't firecrackers, old boy.

That's dynamite.

Mr. and Mrs. Addams.

May I have a chat with the little lad?

Certainly.

The door at the head of the stairs.

Thank you.

The one with the bars on it.

Come on, Pugsley.

They just finished putting the new roof back on the library.

Let's blow it off again.

Who is it?

It's Dr. Bloodman, son.

I'd like to have a little chat with you.

Come in, sir.

I think you've done more than your part.

I'll take it from here.

Good luck.

You know, you really shouldn't be playing with dynamite.

I know, sky missiles are much more accurate.

I can see we're going to have to have quite a little chat.

Now, tell me what comes to mind.

What's love like?

A rainbow.

A ruptured spring.

Either that or a rabbit.

Oh, yes, I see.

You're confused, Pugsley.

Why don't we start at the beginning?

Tell me your earliest childhood memory.

I guess it would be my mother.

Wrapping me in blankets,

and tucking me in.

... to my cocoon and hanging me on the wall.

She hung you on the wall?

She had to.

I kept crawling out of my cage

and eating all the paint chips.

Well, that's outrageous.

What did your Father have to say about this?

Then I should have saved some chips for Wednesday.

Then last summer, Dad took us on a vacation to the slaughterhouse.

Stop, I've heard enough.

It's pretty clear what your problem is.

But don't worry.

I'm going to call Child Welfare.

And we're going to find a nice, safe home for you and your "sinister".

Uh, sister!

Oh, no, you won't!

Hmm!?

But I don't want to have her home.

I'm perfectly miserable here.

Hello, Child Welfare?

Don't.

Go.

Anywhere.

Son, wh-wh-what are you doing?

Let go of me!

This is preposterous... !

I wonder what scared him?

Psychiatrists are so high-strung.

He got out of my knot, right away.

I guess I'm not a very good Junior Trooper.

Oh, Pugsley.

Those are the sweetest words I've ever heard.

Music to my ears.

Welcome back, son.

Thanks,

Father.

I can just feel my skin getting whiter.

The guys at the morgue are gonna be so jealous.

Oh, how I've missed you.

It's time for a swim.

But Wednesday,

how can I swim with an anchor around my neck?

Don't be such a baby.

Our son.

It's good to see him being dragged off again.

I know.

I'm so glad we're back to being one big, unhappy family, again.

Awooooo... !