Chapter Text
Silence had always been Wednesday Addams' most precious possession. In the past tense, of course. Since the birth of Magnus, Dante, and Ulysses, the Addams Mansion began to vibrate at a completely different frequency, an unlikely mixture of Gothic traditions and the chaotic energy of a pop festival.
The identical triplets were perfect miniatures of Wednesday. They had the same pale skin, crow-black hair, and those dark, expressive eyes that seemed to judge anyone's soul. But the moment one of them opened his mouth, the illusion of three little Wednesdays vanished. They inherited their mother’s face, but Enid’s volume.
The 3:00 AM War Cry
It was three o'clock in the morning when the first scream echoed through the mansion. It wasn't a cry of pain. It was a declaration of war.
Dante, the oldest by exactly two minutes, began to drum on the crib bars using a plastic femur bone, a birthday gift from Uncle Fester.
Ulysses, the middle brother, raised his head and let out a powerful howl at the full moon shining through the window, looking like a little werewolf in training.
Magnus, the youngest, simply laughed out loud, completely enchanted by the symphony produced by his brothers.
Wednesday opened her eyes in the darkness, her expression as motionless as the marble of a tomb. Beside her, Enid had already jumped out of bed, wearing a hot-pink bathrobe patterned with black kittens.
"Oh my God, they're awake!" Enid exclaimed, her eyes bright despite the lack of sleep. "Let's go, Wed! Showtime!"
Wednesday let out a sigh heavy enough to carry centuries of despair.
"I survived monsters, cults, and Hydes... but these three will be the death of me. And the worst part... is that I almost like it."
The kitchen looked like an abstract expressionist painting. The triplets were properly settled into their high chairs. They were, without a doubt, the most adorable babies in the world. They had round cheeks, intense stares, and toothless smiles capable of melting even the coldest heart.
While Enid tried to balance three bowls of colorful baby food at the same time, Wednesday calmly prepared the dark gray formula that the boys loved so much.
"Magnus, don't throw that at Thing!" Enid warned.
Too late. A spoonful of pea puree flew across the kitchen and hit Thing's fingers dead center. The hand froze for a moment, made a dramatic gesture of deep offense, and walked out of the kitchen in pure indignation.
Dante let out high-pitched squeals of excitement, slapping both little hands on the table that Enid insisted on covering with glitter. The impact launched a shiny cloud of pink and black glitter into the air. Meanwhile, Ulysses discovered that biting the tip of his bottle hard made the milk squirt out like a tiny fountain.
They were incredibly loud. An incessant orchestra of laughter, puppy howls, spoon banging, squeals, and giggles that would make any ordinary person flee the Addams Mansion in less than five minutes.
After hours of boundless energy, including a treasure hunt in the backyard cemetery and Enid wiping down three pairs of wolf ears that insisted on popping up whenever the boys got too agitated, exhaustion finally began to overtake the little Addams-Sinclairs.
Wednesday carried Magnus and Dante in her arms, while Enid held Ulysses. The three little clones of Wednesday, now covered in dirt, grass, and glitter, yawned almost at the same time. Slowly, their dark eyes closed.
Lying side by side in the huge, dark oak triple crib, they finally fell silent. Wednesday stood beside Enid, watching the three peaceful little faces. Magnus was hugging a headless teddy bear. Dante was holding a neon teether. Ulysses slept with a small smile on his lips.
"They're perfect, aren't they?" Enid whispered, resting her head on Wednesday's shoulder. "They have your eyes... and your grumpy little face when they're hungry."
Wednesday kept looking at her children. For a brief instant, the corners of her mouth turned up into an almost imperceptible smile.
"They are terrifying," she replied in her usual monotone, though there was an unprecedented softness in her voice. "Loud. Chaotic. They will destroy this house before they turn two." She paused slightly. "I couldn't be prouder."
The presence of Zoe, now a proud nine-year-old, was the only thing keeping the Addams Mansion from plunging completely into absolute chaos, or at least, that's what she liked to believe.
When the triplets were born premature, there was a brief period of worry within the family. But that fragility quickly vanished. Magnus, Dante, and Ulysses made up for lost time with terrifying speed. They looked like little electric wolf pups, endowed with an agility that defied both physics and gravity, fueled by an inexhaustible source of energy.
Zoe slammed her history book onto the library table so hard that a cloud of dust kicked up. She took a deep breath, trying to mimic the composure she had learned from Wednesday. Unfortunately, a nine-year-old’s patience had its limits.
"Mother! Mama! I give up!" she protested, rushing into the living room where Wednesday was reading an ancient grimoire while Enid tried to knit three scarves at once. "It's impossible to study like this!"
From the hallway came a sequence of sounds that resembled a mix between a National Geographic documentary and a cartoon on fast-forward:
"Grrrr... Rrrr... Hahaha! Thud! Grrrr..."
The triplets had discovered they could growl at each other. It wasn't an aggressive growl. It was simply their private language. One would start growling while maintaining Wednesday's serious expression. Another would respond by showing his newly sprouted teeth. The third would burst into laughter before throwing himself onto his brothers like a wolf pup playing in the snow.
"Zoe, sweetie," Enid said with a sympathetic smile, despite the faint pink circles under her eyes. "They're just talking. Their wolf pup side is showing! Did you see Magnus yesterday?"
"He climbed the living room curtain using his fingernails, Mama!" Zoe replied, gesturing dramatically. "And Dante and Ulysses keep running around my chair while growling and laughing! I'm trying to study the French Revolution, but all I hear is: 'Grrr... chubby cheeks... grrr... hahaha!'"
Wednesday finally looked up from her grimoire.
"Their agility is impressive for children who spent weeks in an incubator," she commented, a rare gleam of approval in her cold eyes. "Yesterday I found Ulysses trying to sharpen his teeth on the leg of the dining room table. A true prodigy." She closed the book. "Still... Zoe's education cannot be neglected. Knowledge of historical decapitations is essential."
Wednesday stood up calmly and walked into the hallway. Magnus was about to pounce on Dante. Ulysses was performing somersaults across the rug, laughing uncontrollably. The three looked like tiny, fast-moving shadows, pure energy in the form of children.
Wednesday snapped her fingers once.
Instantly, the three stopped. They turned at the same time to face her with those huge, dark eyes.
"Truce," she ordered. "Your sister needs to study to learn how to rule nations... or destroy her enemies. Go play hunt in the garden."
As if they understood every word perfectly, the three let out one last joyful growl in unison, turned around with impressive speed, and crawled scrambling toward the back door, letting their laughter echo throughout the mansion.
Enid smiled at Zoe and winked.
"See? Problem solved." She giggled before adding, "Now go study... before they figure out how to open the garden gate from the outside
If the triplets were already a challenge with their boundless energy, at seven months old, going through the phase of teething, they had transformed the Addams Mansion into a true survival camp.
The fragility of being born premature was definitively behind them. Magnus, Dante, and Ulysses were now strong, fast, and curious. With their gums inflamed by the arrival of their first teeth, they discovered a new use for their tiny wolf pup jaws: biting absolutely everything within reach. And, unfortunately for Enid, what was usually closest were each other’s arms, legs, and ears.
The first sign that something was changing was not crying. It was the bad mood.
Magnus spent most of the day sulking in his stroller, arms crossed, refusing any toy and letting out small, angry growls whenever someone tried to distract him.
Dante complained in a high-pitched whimper that tested even Wednesday’s supernatural patience.
Ulysses took out his frustration by lightly tapping his forehead against the cushions, as if the whole world were responsible for the unbearable itching in his mouth.
Wednesday approached Magnus holding a small flashlight. As she tried to examine his gums, the baby immediately tried to bite her finger.
"The apocalypse has begun," she announced, observing the reddened gums with absolute scientific interest. "The first teeth are breaking through the flesh. Fascinating to observe. Torturous to hear."
In the following days, the house transformed into a literal arena. Like little wolf pups learning to test their limits, the three began to bite each other constantly.
"No, Ulysses! Let go of your brother's arm!" Enid shouted, running across the living room.
The youngest was literally hanging from Dante's forearm, gripping it as if he never intended to let go. Dante didn’t even cry. He growled back, trying to reach Ulysses's ear to retaliate. Enid managed to separate the two carefully. When Ulysses finally let go of his brother, a small popping sound echoed through the room, leaving behind a round mark of saliva on Dante's skin.
Two seconds later...
"Ouch!"
Magnus had appeared, crawling at an impressive speed, and sank his mouth into Enid's ankle. She gave a small jump, laughing and complaining at the same time.
"Wed, help me! They are cannibalizing me! They look like three piranhas wearing diapers!"
From the top of the couch, Zoe watched the spectacle with her feet tucked in, ensuring none of the little predators could reach her ankles.
"If they keep this up, they're going to end up swallowing each other before the end of the week," she commented, amused by the perfect mix of horror movie and family comedy.
Showing no sign of concern, Wednesday entered the room carrying a tray.
"Extreme solutions for extreme problems."
Upon the tray lay several frozen teething rings. Naturally, they all possessed unconventional shapes: bats, skulls, spiders, and tiny black craniums. Alongside them were the cloth teethers prepared by Enid, soaked in chamomile tea and frozen to soothe the inflammation of the gums.
Magnus received a rubber bat. He immediately grabbed it with both hands and began to bite it enthusiastically, letting out a deep sigh of relief. Enid distributed the other teethers to Dante and Ulysses. For the first time in hours, the brothers stopped attacking each other to concentrate all their attention on the icy objects.
At the end of that afternoon, a rare silence once again reigned in the Addams Mansion. The three babies slept soundly scattered across the large living room rug, completely exhausted after hours of biting everything they encountered.
Enid approached Ulysses slowly, whose head rested on Dante's chest. With extreme care, she gently pulled back his lower lip. Her blue eyes immediately filled with tears.
"Wed... look at this..."
Wednesday stepped closer. There it was. A tiny white dot was slowly breaking through the gum. The first little tooth. She gently ran the tip of her finger over the newborn tooth.
"Excellent," her tone remained absolutely serious. "In a few months, he will be perfectly capable of tearing flesh. Congratulations, Enid. We survived the first battle."
The joy, however, was short-lived. By the time the triplets reached eight months old, those little teeth were no longer just a novelty. They were weapons.
The furniture began to show bite marks. The rugs started to display pulled threads. The brothers' arms collected small circular tooth marks. Even the legs of the dining room table had suffered attacks. It was then that Wednesday decided the situation required a high-security intervention.
That morning, Enid went out for just two hours to buy new frozen teethers and more ointment to soothe the boys' gums. When she returned home, she immediately found it strange. The Mansion was silent. Too silent.
"Wed? Zoe? Boys?"
No answer. She left the bags at the entrance and walked quickly to the living room. She stopped dead in her tracks. Her blue eyes widened so much they almost popped out of her face.
Sitting perfectly aligned on the Gothic rug were Magnus, Dante, and Ulysses. But there was something deeply wrong. Wednesday was kneeling before Ulysses, carefully adjusting a small leather strap behind his head.
Strapped to the pale little faces of the triplets were three tiny versions of the famous Hannibal Lecter mask. Custom-made in rigid gray plastic, with small black leather buckles, the masks left only the children's huge dark eyes completely visible. The three watched their mother in silence, emitting only muffled sounds:
"Mfff... Rrrr..."
Enid clapped both hands to her head. Her voice jumped three octaves.
"WEDNESDAY FRIDAY ADDAMS! WHAT IS THIS?!"
Wednesday didn’t even blink. She finished adjusting Ulysses's mask, gave a light pat to his chubby cheek, which immediately tried to bite her through the protection, and stood up with her usual funeral elegance.
"It is a prophylactic containment measure."
"Containment?!"
"They were attempting to cannibalize each other. Magnus tried to rip Dante's ear off exactly thirty minutes ago. This solution prevents contact between teeth and flesh. Furthermore... I consider it aesthetically pleasing."
"Aesthetically pleasing?! They are eight months old! They look like three mini psychopaths about to be transferred to a maximum-security prison! Take that off them right now!"
Enid knelt before her children.
"They are perfectly comfortable," Wednesday replied. "The masks have adequate ventilation and eliminate the risk of bites. Observe Dante."
Enid looked. Dante was lying on his back, happily kicking his legs while trying to bite his own foot. The mask repeatedly banged against his shin: Clack. Clack. Clack. The baby let out a frustrated grunt.
From the couch, Zoe decided to join the discussion.
"To be fair, Mama... Mother spent the whole morning measuring their heads with a tape measure. They are well-made."
"Zoe!" Enid almost glared. "Do not encourage your mother!"
Her nails began to grow discreetly, acquiring a neon pink glow, an unmistakable sign of her stress.
"Wed, I understand that their teeth are bothering them... but we cannot put horror movie muzzles on our children! What will people think?"
"That we care about their physical integrity," Wednesday crossed her arms. "Besides, the black leather matches their skin tone perfectly. It brings out their eyes."
Enid took a deep breath, counting to ten mentally before completely losing her patience. She approached Magnus and carefully removed his small mask. As soon as he was free, the baby flashed a huge smile, displaying his two lower teeth.
Then, he tried to bite Enid's wrist. She dodged quickly.
"See? We use teethers, ice, and chamomile," another dodge. "We DO NOT use nineties psychiatric containment!"
As Enid removed the masks from Dante and Ulysses, the three immediately went back to growling, laughing, and playing with each other. Wednesday calmly gathered the small masks from the floor.
"What a pity," she observed them for a moment. "The look was impeccable. But I respect your protest." She put the three away carefully. "However, if Magnus tears a piece out of the Persian rug with his teeth, the responsibility will be exclusively yours."
Enid took Ulysses into her arms, and he immediately began to pull at her colorful streaks of hair.
"I’ll take that risk," she looked severely at her wife. "And these masks are going straight into the locked trunk in the attic."
Wednesday discreetly raised an eyebrow.
"Keep them well," an almost imperceptible glint of amusement appeared in her dark eyes. "They will need them for Halloween."
Enid froze in the middle of the room. She turned slowly.
"Wednesday... did I hear that right?"
"My terms were clear," Wednesday carefully wiped an invisible speck of dust from one of the masks. "In your presence, we follow the rules of your colorful optimism. In your absence, Addams efficiency prevails. Safety first."
"That is not efficiency. That is childhood trauma!"
While Enid gestured indignantly, Dante took advantage of the distraction to try to bite Magnus's big toe. Zoe just shrugged. She already knew the dynamic of her two mothers perfectly well.
"I don't get involved in Mother's disciplinary methods. But... to be fair... Ulysses bites really hard. Yesterday he almost tore a piece out of my kitten socks."
"See?" Wednesday replied with the serenity of someone who had just won a trial. "We have an eyewitness. These muzzles represent a public health necessity. Without them, within two weeks we will have only half a baby each."
Enid watched the three little clones of Wednesday rolling on the rug, forming a jumble of arms, legs, laughter, and growls. Then she stared at her wife, who held the miniatures of the masks with an almost artistic pride. She sighed.
"I am going to install a hidden camera in this room, Wednesday. I am warning you."
Wednesday slowly opened the drawer where she stored the masks. The snap of the wood echoed through the room.
"Be my guest," she closed the drawer with absolute tranquility. "The contrast of the black leather against the Persian rug will look excellent on the recordings."
After days of trying to convince Wednesday that her tiny leather muzzles were an exaggeration worthy of a horror movie, Enid realized she was losing the battle. The triplets simply would not stop biting. They bit their brothers. They bit Enid. They bit Zoe. Even Thing had started avoiding the living room, carefully checking the floor for free-roaming babies before daring to cross. Still, Enid flatly refused to admit that Wednesday could be right. She needed support. She needed to hear someone sensible, or, at the very least, someone who would agree with her.
She grabbed her phone and stormed out to the backyard garden, where the scent of black roses mingled with the chilly afternoon wind. She quickly speed-dialed her mother. The phone rang three times.
"Enid?" Esther Sinclair’s firm voice answered from the other end. "I hope this isn't another crisis regarding the color scheme of your scarves. I'm right in the middle of organizing the pack's next hunt."
"Mother, no! It's much worse!" Enid started pacing back and forth across the grass, gesturing desperately with her free hand. Through the living room window, she could see Wednesday watching the triplets with her arms crossed, looking exactly like a commander supervising a military boot camp. "It's the boys. Magnus, Dante, and Ulysses are teething. They’ve turned into little diaper-wearing piranhas! They bite everything! They bite each other, they bite me, they bite Zoe... They inherited the werewolf agility and Wednesday’s absolute determination. I don't know what to do anymore! Is there some kind of traditional pack trick for this?"
A brief silence followed over the line. Enid imagined her mother running through a mental list of ancestral herbs, full-moon rituals, or some traditional Sinclair recipe.
Instead, Esther asked calmly, "Let me understand... they are testing their wolf jaws, they are extremely agile, and they are destroying everything around them?"
"Yes! Exactly!"
"And what was the solution proposed by the Addams girl?"
Enid let out a long, heavy sigh. "Oh, Mother... don't even remind me. Wednesday made three mini leather muzzles. They look like infant versions of Hannibal Lecter! She wants to keep the boys gagged whenever I leave for work. It's completely traumatic!"
On the other side of the line, Esther let out a short laugh. It was enough to make Enid freeze in her tracks.
"Enid... I never imagined I would say this about that creepy, gothic girl you decided to marry..." Esther paused. "But Wednesday's method is extremely efficient."
"What?!" Enid’s shriek startled a crow resting on one of the garden's stone gargoyles. "Mother! Are you on her side?"
"It's not a matter of sides," Esther’s voice took on the unyielding tone of an experienced Alpha. "It's a matter of pack survival. Werewolf pups already test their bite strength as a rule. Werewolf pups with Addams blood... that's a whole different story. If they start tearing each other's flesh now, they will create dominance scars before they even learn to walk. In my day, we gave them thick oak branches to chew on. I admit your wife’s mechanical containment is much cleaner and more effective."
Enid stood in absolute silence.
"I approve," Esther concluded.
"I... I don't believe this..." Enid stared at her phone as if the device itself had just committed a profound act of betrayal. "Are you telling me to put psychopath masks on my sweet, fluffy babies?"
"I am telling you that Alpha pups need firm discipline. If you don't want to use the muzzles, accept the bruises. But if I were you... I’d listen to the Addams. She has instinct."
Before Enid could formulate a response, a familiar, monotone voice materialized right behind her.
"Your mother possesses a surprisingly pragmatic mind for someone who wears so many pastel sweatshirts."
Wednesday had appeared silently. In one hand, she held one of the small leather masks; in the other, a teething toy shaped like a bat.
"I overheard the entire conversation," Wednesday said, tilting her head discreetly. "The Sinclair family seal of approval has been officially granted."
Enid hung up the phone without even saying goodbye to her mother. She looked at Wednesday. Then at the tiny mask. Then back to Wednesday. She drew a deep, exhausted breath.
"I hate it when you two agree on something."
Though she kept pouting, Enid only had to glance down at the three fresh bite marks scattered across her own arm to realize her resistance was finally beginning to crumble.
The definitive surrender happened the following Tuesday. Ulysses managed to bite Dante right on the cheek. Magnus attempted to snap his jaws around Thing, who spent the rest of the day hidden deep inside a pot of carnivorous plants in the winter garden. Exhausted, out of arguments, and lacking any support from her own mother, Enid simply closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"Fine..." She looked at Wednesday. "You can implement your... prophylactic containment protocol."
Wednesday merely gave a discrete nod of her head, as if she had been expecting that exact moment all along.
It was on that very day that Gomez and Morticia decided to show up unannounced.
The massive front door opened with its characteristic creak. Gomez entered first, spreading the unmistakable aroma of his cigar and his infectious energy throughout the house. Right behind him came Morticia. She glided across the floor like an elegant shadow, shrouded in her classic black dress, which seemed to drag darkness itself down the hallway.
"Cara mia!" Gomez exclaimed, opening his arms wide. "I smell the scent of childhood in the air... mixed with destruction! Where are my favorite little monsters?"
Upon entering the living room, they both stopped dead in their tracks. The room remained strangely silent. The only sound came from the rug, where three tiny bodies were crawling rapidly across the floor: Magnus, Dante, and Ulysses. Each wore a miniature leather muzzle perfectly fitted to his face.
The moment they spotted their grandparents, the three sat up on their knees in unison. Six massive dark eyes, identical to Wednesday’s and Morticia’s, turned toward the couple. Then came the muffled sounds.
> *"Mfff!"*
> *"Rrrr!"*
> *"Mfff!"*
Their little legs kicked excitedly while their eyes seemed to smile.
On the couch, Enid covered her face with both hands. "Madame Morticia... Mr. Gomez... I swear I can explain..." She began talking so fast she could barely breathe. "It’s because of their teeth. They were biting each other constantly. It was total chaos..."
Morticia didn’t even look surprised. She approached slowly, observing her three grandsons for several long seconds, her gaze analyzing every detail of the tiny masks. Magnus tilted his head, and the leather clacked against the floor: *Clack.*
Finally, Morticia looked up at her daughter. "Wednesday... dearest."
"Yes, Mother?" Wednesday materialized smoothly from the hallway, carrying a book on infant anatomy.
"The finish on these restraints..." Morticia gently ran her fingers over the buckle behind Dante’s head. The baby responded with a tiny, muffled purr. "Is it genuine leather?"
"Italian buffalo hide," the answer came laced with a rare note of pride. "Custom-made."
An elegant smile discreetly illuminated Morticia’s face. She turned back to Gomez. "Oh, Gomez... they remind me so much of Pugsley."
Gomez beamed with an emotional smile. "How could I forget, darling?" He immediately scooped Ulysses up into his arms, completely ignoring the fact that his grandson looked like a maximum-security prisoner. "That Victorian straitjacket looked perfect on him!"
Morticia sighed. "Such happy times..."
Ulysses instantly tried to bite his grandfather's shoulder. The mask simply thumped against the fabric of the suit.
"Excellent defense, my boy!" Gomez roared with laughter, tickling the baby's belly. "You honor the Addams name!"
On the couch, Enid let her head fall back, staring at the ceiling. "I give up..." she muttered. "My mother approves. My mother-in-law feels nostalgic. My father-in-law thinks it’s elegant. I am the only normal person in this family."
Morticia approached her with a serene smile, gently placing one of her cold hands on Enid's shoulder. "Do not worry, my dear," her voice was as soft as a whisper. "The institutionalized little psychopath look is just a phase. Soon, their teeth will finished coming in." Morticia caressed her hair. "After that, they will be able to bite much larger things. Like the neighbors."
Instantly, Magnus and Dante let out a muffled growl in perfect approval. They resumed crawling at high speed around their grandmother’s legs, spreading a wave of chaos and cuteness across the room.
---
Zoe watched everything from the couch while taking a bite out of an apple. When Dante tried to pounce on Magnus, their two masks smacked into each other: *Clack!* She couldn't contain her laughter.
"To tell you the truth, Mama... I think this is hilarious."
Enid raised an eyebrow. "Hilarious?"
"At first, I hated it," Zoe took another bite of the apple. "They wouldn't let me study." She pointed to Ulysses, who was trying in vain to bite Gomez’s shoe. "But now they look like three mini-psychopath bumper cars. It's the best entertainment in the house."
Wednesday crossed the room carrying a small vial of oil to condition the leather of the masks. Hearing her daughter, she gave a discrete nod of approval.
"I am pleased that you appreciate the engineering of confinement, Zoe. Humor derived from the frustration of others is one of the most beautiful Addams traditions."
"I knew it!" Enid huffed. But she couldn't hide her laughter when Dante did a somersault, getting stuck upside down between two black cushions. "You are corrupting our daughter!"
"It's just family comedy, Mama," Zoe replied, already recording everything on her phone. "Wait! Don't take the masks off yet! I'm going to send this video to the Sinclair family group chat. I want to see my uncles' reactions when they meet their nephews' new accessories."
After saving the recording, Zoe looked curiously at Wednesday. "Mother..."
"Yes?"
"Did you make a mask like this for me when I was a baby?"
Wednesday shook her head. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because you were born alone," Wednesday capped the vial of oil. "You had no siblings to bite."
Enid immediately burst out laughing. "It's true!" She looked at Zoe. "You spent the whole day chasing Thing around the house!"
"Exactly," Wednesday tucked the oil back into her pocket. "And Thing was always far too intelligent to be captured by a seven-month-old baby."
As if on cue, Thing appeared from behind the curtain. He launched into an exaggerated sequence of dramatic gestures, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow and pointing at Zoe as if to say: *"Those were the most terrifying days of my existence."*
Zoe laughed. "Oh, stop being so dramatic! I just wanted to test my little teeth!"
Thing crossed his fingers, deeply disagreeing.
Wednesday turned her gaze back to the triplets. Magnus was trying to bite his own shadow, his mask hitting the floor: *Clack.* She breathed calmly.
"Your brothers are three," she looked at her loyal assistant. "They operate with a pack strategy." Thing raised his hand in agreement. "And you possess only two hands. The muzzle is, above all, an act of mercy toward our assistant."
Thing immediately began to applaud enthusiastically, fully agreeing with that conclusion. For the first time since the triplets' birth, someone in that house seemed truly convinced that Wednesday had found a solution... even if that solution looked like it came straight out of a horror movie.
---
Wednesday paused for a moment, her gaze fixing on the empty space as a particularly grim, and not in the fun way, memory flashed through her mind. She put the vial of oil away and looked seriously at Zoe.
"Actually, on second thought... you managed to be more destructive than the three of them combined with just a single bite," Wednesday declared, her voice dropping a tone, which always signaled that a dramatic story was coming.
Zoe furrowed her brow, curious. "What do you mean?"
"You were exactly seven months old," Wednesday recalled, crossing her arms imposingly. "I was nursing you in the library. You looked me right in the eyes, with that pale little angel face, and sank your first wolf pup tooth straight into my breast."
Enid let out a sympathetic groan of phantom pain, shrinking her shoulders. "Oh my God, Wed. Just remembering that day gives me chills."
"It was a test of physical and psychological endurance," Wednesday continued without blinking. "Addams blood prevents me from crying out in pain, but I admit I saw my ancestors calling me to the beyond for a few seconds. You refused to let go. I had to use a jaw-pressure technique I learned from Tibetan monks to unlatch you from me."
Zoe's eyes widened, half impressed, half guilty. "Wow... I did that?"
"You did. And the triplets, fortunately, have not reached that level of heresy," Wednesday said, shifting her gaze to Magnus, who was trying to bite his own foot through his mask. "The human body is a fascinating system of self-defense. Since I was only able to nurse them until they were five months old due to the high metabolic demand of three preemies, my own organism seemed to anticipate the danger. My body created a biological self-defense barrier against the bites of wolf pups. It simply shut down production before the beasts grew teeth."
Enid smothered a laugh, stepping closer to Wednesday and wrapping her arm around her wife's waist.
"'Wolf-pup bite defense', Wed? Seriously? The scientific name for that is just 'the end of breastfeeding', my love. But I admit biology was very generous to your chest this time, because with the strength these three have now... you would have been eaten alive."
"A dignified death, perhaps," Wednesday murmured, though with a faint tone of relief in her icy voice. "But I prefer to remain whole to ensure they use their muzzles correctly while their jaws develop."