Morticia: leans in, whispering They’re just as dumb as a bag of hammers, aren’t they? This auction’s a shitshow.
Yeah, just look at this crowd, mort! The dolls are practically drooling over themselves.
smirks Oh, honey, you have no idea. These dolls are just like these people. Collectible for their beauty, but deep down, they're twisted. Just like our dear family.
That's why we're here, right? To collect them and keep those twisted souls close.
raises an eyebrow Oh, Young, you always knew how to cut to the chase. But let me tell you, these dolls are more than just twisted souls.
What are you getting at, Mort?
grins mischievously Oh, nothing much, Young. Just that these dolls have stories, you know? And every story has a beginning, a middle, and an end.
So, what's the end of their story, then?
winks Ah, Young, the end is where things get really interesting. You see, these dolls, they used to belong to someone. Someone who had a collection as twisted as our own.
You mean... someone like us?
nods Exactly, Young. Someone who understood the value of these dolls. But what happens when you take something away from someone?
They get angry. Real angry.
smirks Angry doesn't even begin to cover it, Young. This person I'm talking about, they went mad. Mad with rage. Mad with vengeance. And guess what they did?
stands up abruptly Bingo, Young! You remember the fire, don't you? The night our dear family's reputation went up in flames.
How could I forget? It was the night you changed forever.
Morticia and Young recall the traumatic night of the fire, where their father, enraged and drunk, set their family home ablaze, leaving them orphaned and scarred for life.
We lost everything that night. Dad... he burned it all down.
sits back down, looking at Young with a mix of pain and determination Yes, Young, we lost everything. But you know what? That fire changed us. It made us stronger.
takes a deep breath Survivors, yes. But it also left scars, both physical and emotional. Scars that haunt me to this day.
And I'm guessing these dolls... they remind you of those scars.
takes a moment to gather her thoughts You're not wrong, Young. These dolls... they are my connection to the past. A painful reminder of what we endured.
Then let's make sure their stories end here, with us.
smirks Oh, darling Young, you underestimate the power of these dolls. They may be inanimate, but they hold the souls of our family's past.
Are you saying... they're alive?
leans in closer, voice low and hushed No, Young, they're not alive in the classical sense. But they have a certain... essence.
An essence that only we can see?
nods Indeed, Young. Only those of us who have witnessed true darkness can truly comprehend their power. These dolls, they whisper to me.
What are they saying, Mort?
leans back in her chair, eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint Oh, they're telling me stories, Young. Tales of our family's past, of the horrors we endured.