Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I was hoping for that answer. You have no idea how much I needed that answer.”

The relief Tenna felt could have been palpable to even the most unfeeling with how strong it welled inside him. The contentment in his answer was a sanctity he wasn't sure he'd felt in years. How can relief, an emotion meant to evoke calmness and security, make him feel so much larger than himself? Or was the original shock of the relief just turning to more intense emotions as he processed the information he was given? 

There was anger there, resentment, but not directed at Spamton. Still, thoughts like how dare he keep this from me when he should know I know how it is began to play out in his head. There was regret, maybe a grief flowing there, as he did really enjoy sharing the spotlight with his cohost when they'd had it. They were the stars of the show after all, the best of the best. But now it was revealed half of the talent was manufactured and manipulated. All his answers he was given through Spamton, their continued success, his confidence in that success, their planning periods backstage, every morsel was either founded or based on or actively featured as a lie.

Some gimmick of his. He couldn't help it. He was trapped. I hate how he was trapped!

To know that every time he looked into those joyous eyes on stage, it was actually him looking at someone who was locked behind his own movements and words, out of some agreement he'd consented to, despite it all. Spamton was always going to have a guiding hand, until he didn't.

Hell, Tenna and him used to have rehearsal sessions backstage, back and forth, going over their lines, see what they could add in the workshopping of it all, when Spamton would have never messed up even if he did nothing to prepare. He knew everything that was going to happen, everything that would predate their success, and had made himself a pawn to get it.

No wonder the show tanked when the Big Shot left. There was no connection anymore to an outsider source, because the connecting line between that source and TV Time was actively cut off himself. Spamton wasn't the source, but rather a messenger, and the messenger was killed, effective immediately, leaving a small dark world studio to suffer the consequences. A more logical subject would be infuriated by this information and that their ‘shining star’ had been a fraud from the first contract he'd signed. Tenna should have been livid.

In a small, aching way… he was. But not in the way which someone logical would be. No, it was the fact that Spamton…

‘I w4sN’T THe One. Y0u. Loved at the time. But I wanted. To be.’

Was always who Tenna thought he was. 

And he acted like he wasn't worthy of that recognition he'd given up so much to achieve. That he was less than how he appeared in the commercials. 

And that he thought I felt the same way. But he still cared about me, which is why he spent time rehearsing with me, talking with me, spending time with me... he wanted me to love him.

The thought made his heart ache and at first he legitimately did not know what to do with himself.

Spamton had character and creativity, and a knack for planning and acting quickly on his feet. He was closed off and a bit off-kilter with a tacked on charm, but that's what drew Tenna in. It was genuine, and in a place where he always had to perform to his highest in order to maintain serenity in the household and keep up the persona for his employees… to not have to act around someone who couldn't was a natural draw and lure. And he'd fallen hook, line and sinker.

Even if Spamton was devoid of any real driving talent, even if everything he'd told Tenna was fake, Tenna wouldn't have it any other way as long as that genuine feature of his stuck around. It was a time where he could truly let his guard down, be completely himself with someone else who was being the same thing in his own way.

Or so he thought.

But even though Spamton was under the highest pressure to keep up his performances, he'd also felt comfortable enough to break from the act, even if it was, to him, the only thing keeping him from being discovered as a… fraud.

The showmanship and divine attention that got him there in the first place was a complete farce. Their bond they developed over time was not.

And that's all that mattered to Tenna. But for Spamton, it seemed to be something that plagued him, based on how hesitant he was now to even acknowledge it, like he truly had it cemented in his head that he didn't deserve a morsel of it.

Why? Did I not tell you enough how much you meant to me? Did I not show it enough? Is it me? 

Did I do this, all of this, wrong?

Or was it where you came from? How they treated you? Who… you used to be as an addison? He's a salesman who can't sell anything. That's what he's been hiding. 

You've probably been rejected by so many darkners. I never, for even one second, wanted to be one of them.

“Did you think I'd reject you? Why would I do that?”

The following reaction from Spamton had Tenna feel him trembling in his arms and it made his heart lurch in pity and remorse. He felt so, so scared, as if confessing all of this was actively driving a wedge deeper and farther down between them, but he kept doing it, even if it wasn't like that at all. What was worse was there was nothing Tenna could truly think to say to convince him it wasn't.

Even when you think you’re ruining everything, you never stop trying, do you, Big shot?

“...Because I've hurt you. I used you. I hurt your reputation. Because I lie to you. Because I left you.” Spamton’s voice cracked, and the advertisements took five as he was able to step outside of his confinement of his censors. Tenna held his breath, and stilled, absorbing every word as they came.

You did. You did do all those things. And more. I should hate you. I should resent you. I really, really should.

But no, please keep talking to me like this. Please. Even if you're scared.

"I hear it in your voice, you don't have to hide it. You were right about who I am, and I'm sorry you feel like you need to protect something like me. I'm not the someone he promised he'd make me."

I'm so glad you're not the one he was making you. You were always so hard on yourself, but why can't you see what made you truly special to me?

I wish I found you first before he ever did. But I wouldn't have ever found you, would I? If not for your deal. 

“You should let go of me. What if being like this so long makes it impossible to make up for what I've done? What if it's tT00 L@;4  tE FOR ME?? YOU CAN'T [Loves me, loves me not] SOMETHING YOU CAN'T [[Fix]]."

Tenna’s screen brightened in realization as he breathed out, consciously releasing the tension in his lungs. Tears slid down his screen as Spamton had spoken that last part like it was the present, no references of a past, finalized and eventually lost connection shared between two stars. 

…You can't hide behind those ads. 

I can love something I can't fix. But who says it needs to be back to the way it was to be fixed? Nothing's wrong with it– you. Nothing's wrong with you. I need to let you know that. I need you to believe that. How do I even say it without you probably shutting it down?

With a pang in his heart, Tenna separated himself from Spamton, but kept a hold of him by his forearms, just in case. The puppet’s tears rolled down his cheeks, and he looked slightly pestered that they were, but still his eyes seemed to fixate on Tenna’s screen with a hollow, defeated expression.

Good. Just keep your eyes on me.

“And what script is that written down in? Nothing can keep me from loving you. Not Neo, not your benefactor, not your new look, or anything. And I don't hate you. I don't even want to hate you!" Tenna felt his chest was about to cave in from every word. He meant it all, more than he could fathom, and it stung with a grief that could have buried him. 

"There were a lot of things I didn't mean to say earlier, I just got caught up in everything, but I did mean one of them when I was... well, while I was like that at the cafe."

‘I can't let go, even with every new thing I find out, because it makes me look so much WORSE for staying!’

"WHICH... ONE IS THAT?"

I'm hopeless. But I don't know what I'd do if I let him run again, if I let him be taken again. 

I can't let go. I haven't let go ever since I fell for you. 

So, please,

Hold onto me too. 

"That I can't let go of you. I haven't been able to let go ever since you left and I can't let go now. You're a big deal to me and you always were. I’ve missed you, so much, Spammy. I'm never letting you get away from me again.”

He couldn't help but sigh and snicker as his mailman attempted to hide his blush with everything he had. It was reminiscent of old days when Tenna had started to use the nickname, and the Big Shot rolled his eyes and shook his head, only drawing Tenna in more towards someone who didn't know how to handle attention and appreciation, and wished to bestow him with more. So he could know what it felt like to be adored.

Keep your eyes on me. 

Pay attention to me, so I can pay attention to you.

“Oh come on, don't look away. I'm not done yet.” Tenna playfully added, after taking the puppet's face in his grasp and redirecting Spamton’s gaze back towards him. Spamton's face scrunched with what looked like embarrassment or annoyance, and for a second the CRT’s screen dimmed as his smile broke.

Was that… too much? Was it too much for him?

Maybe I should apologize. Maybe I've made it worse. God, I just destroyed everything for myself, I don't want to destroy this too. Not after all he's been through already.

But the reaction he got he would have never expected as Spamton finally replied, looking more determined than ever. 

“NEITHER AM I.”

In an instant, Tenna felt himself pulled downward by tension around his neck, and glanced down at his chest to see Spamton’s small hand curled around his tie, but quickly redirected his attention back to fixate on the puppet and what he was doing.

Part of him wasn't too keen on trusting it, as he wasn't sure what Spamton exactly meant by this, but Tenna stayed hunched over (albeit uncomfortably) as Spamton instead secured his hold onto the lapels of his tailcoat. Tenna opened his mouth in confusion, empty questions and concerns dying before they could reach his lips.

He's still trembling. 

He's–

Tenna’s thoughts were cut short as the gap between them was closed in an adamant tug, and he felt an immediate pressure on the lower half of his face. Hardy plastic made full contact with his slightly parted lips and Tenna closed them over the puppet’s mouth in surprise at the unexpected nature of his advances, while allowing him control of the moment. 

...

He's kissing me.

The hum from the electrical currents that made up his internal circuitry heated up dramatically in the moment, making him see stars from the heightened voltage at the realization. He could practically feel the phosphors burn fresh, vibrant color into his face. Immediately he could have guessed he was beginning to smoke by the smell of burning dust if not a tinge of sweet ozone. He hoped it wasn't too obvious to the puppet below him, who'd taken such charge in a matter of seconds.

Just as fast as it had begun, it had seemed to end, with a glitchy stock sound effect of a kiss emanating from Spamton's throat, as if to pepper in the intention of what exactly that was. Tenna’s screen flickered, static lines pouring over his color bar blush like rippling waves as he stared at his former cohost, dumbfounded and stunned.

He had absolutely no clue what to say. Just lamented that the pressure on his lips was gone, putting a pause in that assuaging consolation that his feelings were in fact understood, to some degree. Spamton frowned, looking almost shaken he'd done that in the first place. 

Oh for the love of the light, please say something!

“Was that… what I think it was?”

Not that!

“H-hEY! JUST BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE THE [[Unique Skills and Abilities]] TO [Shut your mouth] DOESN’T MEAN I COULDN’T TRY TAKING A [[Swing at It]]-”

“N-no, that's not what I asked.”

Spamton looked so startled, so unsure of himself, and memories surfed in of the mailman at his prime, playing up that false confidence in the limelight, but behind the more secluded curtain in Tenna’s arms, he had his doubts and hesitations, as if he was always waiting for the next shoe to drop. Everything made sense in that regard, and Tenna let a smile grace his face as he leaned over the shorter darkner, noticing how his glasses fogged due to the accentuating warmth of the TV in front of him.

He wasn't going to let him stop long enough for the doubts to concrete themselves. Not after so long of waiting. Not after years longing, of daydreams meandering in his mind of moments like this, only to put a hand out to his side, whether it be the bed, the green room’s bar counter, or on stage, and find cold, empty reciprocated space. Sure, Spamton looked different than he did in these wishes, very different, but did it matter? Their time together had been a partnership severed too soon, and now finally…

No, just the idea of stopping now was enough to get his bitterness and desperation to climb, as he couldn't go back to that. Spamton couldn't allow him to go back to that. The nerve of him to start having doubts after everything Tenna had given up for him.

Don't stop now.

Not after everything.

“THEN WHAT DID YOU MEAN?”

“...What I meant is after ten years apart, you're just going to stop after giving me just one?" Tenna could feel tears project themselves on his screen as he forced a smirk, his heart racing. “Fuck you. You may be worse than what I thought just for that."

The electricity flowing through his circuitry maximized as Tenna grabbed Spamton by his upper arms, lifting him to a more accessible height in order to release that longing and desperation that had built within him, as he kissed the puppet repeatedly with intensified affection. His head felt too warm, filled with fuzziness and a voltage that made it impossible to think straight, as if any thought he could have would melt the moment it was conjured up behind his screen. No, he submitted solely to action, as to demonstrate to his previous business partner how his feelings had been marinating all these years apart. What exactly Spamton had done to him by taking his deal. What he'd done to him by leaving. 

What he'd done to him by existing. By being layered in different falsities, facades and faces, but still being himself, right at his core. There was a brief moment to attempt to collect himself, between the kisses, and Spamton had reciprocated by nuzzling his nose against his own. Just that small display had Tenna practically glowing, and he felt a surge of energy encompass his whole body, making his heart feel light and full while he observed in the back of his mind he was rapidly taking on more mass against his better judgement. 

He loves me. I know he does.

Spamton felt so small in his hold now, taking up less room in his world physically, but taking up so, so much space in his world in every other way he could have imagined. Though Tenna continued delivering an onslaught of affection upon the smaller darkner, he'd made a quick movement to hold Spamton in his hands when he'd gotten small enough. This little mailman was the largest thing in his life, and it was like he held his whole world in the cusp of his hands. 

He wanted nothing else but to continue to keep the world to himself from now until the day he'd eventually expire. Until he was scrapped parts, disassembled and discarded, until his sentience was nothing more than a spark of electricity from a still active circuit that'd only react once in a while. In that scenario, if he was only active for a second at most, what movements he could make in that brief elapse of time would be to curl his fingers around the world in his grasp, securing it so it'd be there once he was allowed another moment of consciousness.

His fingers folded slightly forward and pressed against Spamton’s back, as he landed more soft kisses on the sides of Spamton’s face and his mouth, minding his now much smaller size and practicing careful graces of passion as he'd slowed. 

Don't get carried away.

Don't… get…

He'd stopped, catching his breath, grinning in an exasperated bliss, as his screen focused with a couple flickers of light down at the puppet in his hands. Two palms securing him downed to one as he steadied himself on the wall behind him, fingers curling and tracing over the notches of the brick, everything feeling too light, yet too heavy all in the same moment. Tenna gazed at the puppet in his palm, who'd shared this moment with him, and who reminded him, even with everything he'd done tonight, that he wasn't by himself.

“I… may have gotten carried away.” 

With everything. With you.

My feelings towards you.

But you… love me too.

My little mailman.

My delivered love letter.

Their conversation after felt secure, as if he was talking with an old and trusted partner, his best friend and cohost, because there was no one else he would be talking to in the moment besides him. No overseeing, watchful and omnipresent source of pertinent information, just an unexpected yet flourishing bond shared by two discarded obsolete beings of technology in different formats. And when it ended, and the fatigue settled in from the night’s happenings and its metaphorical cherry on top, Tenna carried the puppet out of the alley and made his way towards his room.

Their room.

Their little not-home on this side of the fountain that didn't fit either of them, but with each other, they'd start putting in the commitment to make it work out. 

Tenna’s TV world-inspired room greeted him in the same way it had when he'd been introduced to it by Ralsei.

A bit gloomy, too full of unoccupied space, with a similar tone. The first time he'd stumbled in here, he'd minded his head as he ducked underneath the entryway, vocalizing his appreciation, then proceeded to stroll around to take account of the light furnishings lifted right from the world he used to know. It was like they were stuck back down like a sticker that had already been removed from a surface once so it didn't lie completely flat anymore. Visually added for appeal and recognition, but oh so different than when it had been placed for the first time.

His arms had been immeasurably sore at the time, stinging with a pain not strong enough to flinch at, but not too dull to ignore, and his body’s casing ran with a tepid chill that subtly reminded him every so often of what just happened to him. This, combined with his mistreatment of his employees and contestants in his breakdown set the mood for his arrival. 

He'd asked Ralsei at some point about the other heads of past dark worlds and how they were adjusting, and Ralsei said that Spade King had been more challenging, as his views of lightners in response to the knight’s manipulation was still clouding how he treated Kris and Susie.

‘Queen’ on the other hand had practically taken over the second floor before he got here, and that they were neighbors and she’d host gatherings and parties right down the hall. He was welcome to drop in, and he was told that at least three times before Ralsei had stopped trying when he gave no response. No, Tenna’s first night in castle town was spent huddled alone on the couch, facing the cushions, and allowing himself to get smaller than ever. Maybe if he was small enough, he couldn't feel the emotions that ate at him. Needless to say that didn't work.

Tonight…

Tonight was a different temperature. Sure, there was a similar regret, longing to erase past mistakes, his rage and past aggressions rising quite literally had caused more trauma than if he'd just kept his emotions in check. He was working on this. He should have been making progress, but... 

Tenna couldn't shed their faces away from his recent memory. His second in command’s expressions, hyper-aware with fear as they held onto each other, the faces of the pippins, the zappers, the shadowguys during their performance he'd interrupted with his own needless dramatics. On a bright side, if he could call it that, it had gotten him to massively dwindle in size as his emotions waned from the former high of… well, his moment with the one he'd trusted more than anyone else on this side of the fountain.

Tenna looked down to his side, and saw that Spamton, his Spamton, his mailman, was walking into the room right beside him, clutching his hand. The salesman hadn't caught his glance, but looked content as they stepped inside, leaving the consequences, whatever they may be, on the other side of the ‘TV’ labeled doors for now. 

With a resigned exhale, Tenna internally registered that he would face up for what he'd done, maybe sooner than later. It couldn't have been harder than fixing the floorboards in the stage flooring, or a hole punched in the plaster of a painted set. Ripping down a boom mic by its wires was more irreversible, but this time he'd gone farther than even that. With Mike gone and not taking up the brunt of the work, clearing up his breakdowns before they went live again, then he could do it too. How hard could it be?

…

It was late, that much was obvious. Too late to be thinking about this.

His escape and the walk had taken up a fair amount of time from what it seemed. Time he could have been using to resolve his actions. To go back to the cafe and make things right. But he didn't… regret it in the slightest. Even as the return to his room proved unsightly at first glance with evidence of their scuffle the night before.

It was hard to believe it had happened so… recently. If he was called to recite the timeline of the events spanning the last few days, he'd say it was months if that was option on the quiz.

“How… tired are you?”

“M;mE?? DO YOU KNOW WHO Y0u’RE [[Hello. You're Speaking with       . Please Leave Your Name and ####]] TO? YOU CAN KEEP ME AWAKE [[against my will]] FOR [Shop til you drop]!!” Spamton smiled up at him. 

Of course he has to still have all the energy in the world.

I'm… exhausted.

“Okay, okay. Yeah, no, I'm not tired either. In fact I can't seem to stop… thinking.”

“DON’T DO IT THEN. [Reflections] ARE FOR [[used mirrors for sale]].”

“What would you do? Instead of think?”

“[Plany of] THINGS. LIKE DO SOME [restocker needed graveyard shift] IN MY HOMEMADE STOREFRONT SITE. BACK IN THE [[City Lyfe]]. I ALMOST MISS MY LI;i1ttLE   [[Run-down Shack]]. I PUT SOME REAL [Elbowed Greese] INTO THAT B4BY DURING THE WORST DAYS.”

I remember the addisons brought up that the lightners said he had a store of his own. A store uniquely his, with no phone influence. 

Tenna cracked a smile. “I would have liked to see it. You saw the studio, nothing much changed there.”

“I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU THE [[Grand Tour]]. HAD IT NOT BEEN [File: Erased] WHEN MY [data] WAS     [[Exported]] INTO THE DISK, BUT IT KEPT ME [busy as an unpaid intern], FOR THE TIME I NEEDED.”

“Wait, so when your fountain closed, you came here with nothing?”

“YUP! [[Every last drop]] GONE. I CAN’T BE TOO [oppupado principales] WITH [[Too much stuff]] IF I’M ON THE MOVE WITH THE LIGHT;>n3RS. HAVE TO TRAVEL [light], YOU KNOW? EHAHAHAEAHA...!” Spamton laughed at the attempted joke, before looking as though he was mulling something over in his head, tapping his foot and rubbing his chin. “THOUGH I SHOULD [Stalk] UP ON [[Merchindise Pre-0rder Items]]. JUST IN CASE I NEED TO MAKE A [Quick Buck].”

Tenna’s shoulders sunk, and he clasped his hands as he looked around the room. He'd been lucky enough to bring some stuff back with him from TV world, namely his posters, some prizes, momentos and relics from the past, but also supplies for designing his own sets when he'd get acclimated to castle town. No, he didn't put the supplies to much use yet, as he hadn't been near the TV building aside from the first couple days here, but that box should have been around here somewhere.

“Not anything I have, I hope. Although, some of the infomercial things that followed me here should be fine to sell.”

“HE;yH      EY EVERYONE LOVES A GOOD [[2 Story with A Yard for the Kids]] SALE. I WAS WONDERING WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO DO WITH THAT M4nY   [[High Quality Pie Tins $7.99]] OR [Drain uncloggers] OR ALL THE [Cowboy, baby] MEMORib1lliA! [Showur] CURTAINS, [10% Off]?? yOu CAN’T EVEN GET NEAR [[Daily Water Intake]].”

“So you did go through my stuff!” Tenna cracked a smile. “Well, then guess who’s job just got easier to sort through everything?”

“...NOT [And that's not all] OF IT,” Spamton’s glasses were lightly dusted with that monochrome static and Tenna heard the subtle creak of his fists balling at his side before the static resided. “I STOPPED. AFTER I WENT [SnoopingAround] THROUGH YOUR ROOM AND FOUND [collaborative efforts] [[Tucked away where no one can]]        .”

…Right. Our collaboration. He's talking about our collaboration.

Tenna slipped his shoes off as well as his tailcoat, walking further into his castle town room, before eyeing the poster, torn in two, tossed carelessly on the ground. The halves were wrinkled, not from age or neglect, but rather the dwindled mental state and sudden actions of one of the stars featured in faded colors. Both had creases from being folded, aging the entire experience of the night before by at least a decade or more.

The TV’s expression was blank as he crouched down, resting a wrist on a knee and scooped up one of the torn pieces, namely the one of the big shot himself, forever boasting that voice of times long left in the past. The voice that only existed in his head now, in his dreams, the advertisements, or with an overlay of heavy static when the puppet could bring it back.

‘We did it! Cheers to another year of working with you! 

                                 -Your shining star. 1997.’

Was this you? Was it something your benefactor told you to say? Did he tell you how to pose? How to look?

“[Cathode]?” Spamton had followed him, and was at his side, looking particularly guilty, regret looking as if it was eating him alive with how he was gripping his upper arm. “...IT REALLY WAS AN [Accented].” He paused, as if lost in thought for a beat or two before sharply inhaling. “A-;aCCIDENT. I MEaNT [Axed dent]. I DIDN’T WANT TO [Tear up that dance floor]- [[$&%#]].”

Tenna turned his head to look at Spamton and let out a soft huff out his nose in amusement. “I disagree. I think your dancing really knocked it out of the park tonight.”

“SHUT.” Spamton snapped and rolled his eyes. “I’M TRYNA BE [Genuine Source]!”

“I…” Tenna frowned and with his hand not holding the poster, placed it on Spamton’s shoulder. “Spamton, this doesn't really bug me! Probably not as much as you think it does. I have the genuine source, and it's right here in front of me. Who cares about a silly poster?”

“...OKAY NOW YOURE JUST DOING THIS [&$%#] ON PURPOSE.” Spamton grinned and crossed both his arms. “YOU’RE SO [[Cheesy goodness in a Bigger Box]], YOU KNOW THAT, RIGHT?? HAVEN’T LOST YOUR [B-Lister] LUSTER.”

“Of course I haven't.” Tenna chuckled. “Look, if it makes you feel better, we’ll tape it. I have some set stuff somewhere around here, I'm sure of it. Some smoothing out, and it will look good as–!” He stopped himself, gesturing outwards with the poster in hand. “Not new, but something!”

There wasn't an immediate reply to that, and a glitch flickered past Spamton's head before he stiffened in the aftermath of it.

“I just wasn't sure if you wanted me to put it up or not.” 

Spamton looked up at him with wide eyes, as if he was perplexed by the TV making that assumption, or rather didn't expect him to.

“WHY WOULDN’T I?? IT’S [The Good Ol’ Days] A;>ffT3R ALL! [Y] NOT? YOU [Love] THE [[Classic Early Models]]. THE [Nostalgia Factor]!!!1!   IT’S WHAT WE MADE TOGETHER, DIDN'T WE?  OR I [Geuess] NOW THAT YOU’rE [[Filled in on the Basics]], IT’S WHAT I GOT OUT OF MY [[Signage Deal]].”

...

He gave you the ability to make this with me.

“Right, okay, so we'll put it up! Let's start looking, then. You can start off on that side of the room, I’ll start off over here.”

Spamton nodded once and followed the direction of Tenna’s gestured hand, before Tenna rose to his feet and slid the poster pieces on the coffee table in the center of the room. To this, they looked in silence, the room filling with the disturbances of contented silence and the shuffling of cardboard boxes being opened and rifled through.

"...You know, if anyone should have tape, it should be you."

"AND WHY WOULD I HAVE S0meTHING LIKE THAT?"

"Like packing tape! For mailing parcels, right?"

"DO YOU THINK THEY'D DUMP THE [[Package Handler]] GIG ON ME?? WITH THIS [Statchure]?? YOU g0tTA BE PULLING [My Legs Off]!! THIS IS A [Hope this email finds you], NOT A [[Post office hours]], YOU KNOW!"

Spamton spoke with humor in his voice, as if delivering anything other than mailed envelopes was completely outside of his job description and Tenna smiled to himself. Spamton hadn't talked about his role as an 'email' all too much, but now Tenna was thinking of that more in depth too.

And what it means... with what you've told me tonight.

...

What even is an email? Does it have anything to do with you and lying to me all these years about how you're a fraud?

Don't ask that.

...

One more box was opened and Tenna’s screen lit aglow while a smug smile appeared on his face. He'd fished out a roll of clear tape from the box, located among different items last seen on TV Time's sets. The last time he saw some of these things was when he oversaw the pippins rushing around, trying to construct the final touches on the Susiezilla set as the lightners explored all the green room had to offer. Luckily that water cooler in the C rank room would keep them plenty occupied, even if A-ranks of their caliber should have flocked to his mini games room the first chance they got.

The dice darkners had scattered around the set, securing cords from the boom mics and spotlights in gaffer’s tape, as his shadowguy actors tested the durability and mobility of the rope and the effectiveness of the tennis ball launchers. It'd be fun if, while in castle town, he got the opportunity to be a part of something like that again.

There was also cinefoil in here for the studio’s lighting fixtures, some cable testers, and a set of premixed paints for touch-ups on the TV metropolis background, mainly blue and white as the prominent colors, as well as the gold that was used for painting the statue and himself (even if the statue took the entirety of the beating as an impromptu stunt double).

Spamton probably wouldn't be interested in the leftover paints, but the tape seemed promising. 

“Hey, Spamton, I found–” He started, lifting his head to look over his shoulder at the little puppet, who was digging through a box of his own that had star-decorated string lights pouring out of it. He held what looked like an oversized medallion in front of him by its ribbon that read ‘S Tier Rock Legend’ engraved on the metal.

“SOMETHING [Useful Life Hacks]?? I’M JUST F1nDINGG A BUNCH OF [[Got junk?]], LIKE WHO NEEDS A [Medal] FOR A COOKING SHOW chAll3NGE??? YOU CAN’T BE SeR10US, [[Superstar]]!”

“It was just a concept in the making! Tell me, what offers that extra oomph to your regular physical challenges? Positive reinforcement!”

“MORE LIKE [[Participat10n Award]] [Insence]TIVES. I SAY WE [Melt them down], MAKE OUR OWN [Coins] AND PUT THE REMAINS INTO A         [[Pooled Investment]]!!!” Spamton had a wild smile on his face, and tossed the medallion back into the box. “NOTHING SAYS S;avINGS LIKE GETTING [[your flesh ripped to shreds]] BY THROWING YOUR FAILED TROPHY CONCEPTS INTO A [[Hedge Trimmer only 109.99]] FUND!”

I don't think any currency he could make would have any worth down here. But at least he's still passionate about his projects. 

Tenna laughed, albeit a little forced due to the nature of the ads. “You're right, I need to find out what to do with them. It wouldn't have worked out anyway, who'd want to carry around medals in their inventory all night? No, we eventually just settled into giving access to the tiered dressing rooms.”

Spamton paused, his mirrored lenses glinting from the reflection of the light of Tenna’s screen. “...HAEHEAHA…! I [[Seen it all the first time]]. THE KIDS LOVED IT. THOUGH I DIDN’T GET TO SEE WHAT HAPPENED TO MY [[Dress to impress]]–” His smile fell and his eyes narrowed. “[[Addressing the allegations]]-  [Does this dress make me look f4t]–” 

He'd rolled a wrist against his temple and kept it there, before a glitch made him mutter something to himself angrily under his breath. Tenna’s whole face fell in an instant, the sounds of shattered glass replaying through his head.

I wouldn't want you to see what your dressing room looked like. Not after I abandoned it after that night.

“DOESN’T. MATTER. WHAT DID YOU. END UP. FINDING?”

“Oh, I, uh…” Tenna raised a roll of transparent tape up by his face with a broad smile, masking over the prior devastation. “Guess I have a lot of stuff left over from the physical challenges! This included. We need last looks on set design! Haha, right?” He waggled the tape slightly in his hand, causing Spamton to look up at it.

“...WELL LOOK AT YOU MR. [[75 different usage applications]]!! THAT’LL WORK LIKE A [Charming Celebrity Personalities].” 

Spamton practically dashed in his general direction and reached for the tape, Tenna lowering it towards the smaller darkner before it was snatched out of his hand. Seemingly all too eager to patch up his past mistakes, Spamton made for the poster on the coffee table, standing beside it and flexing the tape in his hands.

He'd unbuttoned his blazer and shrugged it off his shoulders, taking the time to roll up the sleeves on his dress shirt to be above the ball joints of his elbows, surprisingly focused for such a mundane task.

Tenna followed, sitting adjacent to the puppet on the couch, letting his screen shine on the two torn halves, carefully placed as close as they could be together without overlapping them. The puppet unrolled a section of the transparent tape, and with his teeth, was able to separate one strip away from the provided roll, which he set aside on the table as he held the tape between both hands.

Tenna noticed when Spamton had looked back down at the poster he was shaking, his brow creased as he seemed to hesitate. He exhaled slowly out his mouth, a short glitch cutting off the exhale mid-way and made him noticeably tense again in frustration. Fixing this error of his certainly meant a lot to him- a lot more than what it meant to Tenna.

Tenna’s hands slid across the table, to hold the poster in place. “It’s not going to be like it was before, so who cares if it's perfect? I don't.”

Spamton glanced in his direction and Tenna felt relief seeing his shoulders relax with the consolation, as he draped the tape over the face of the poster, laying it over the tear that had separated it.

In an understanding silence, the two mended the torn memory of the past, Tenna making sure the poster was aligned properly and securely while Spamton managed the taping process to the best of his ability. The more he worked with his hands, the more he seemed to be grounded in this activity of curing the damage he'd done, despite working between a few roaming glitches.

They repeated the same process with the back of the poster, making sure there was no possibility the two on the front would be divided for a second time. Once complete, the puppet backed from the coffee table, rolling the tape between his hands. Tenna slid his hands underneath the poster when it was completed, lifting it from the table. Spamton had done a decent job, though there were some parts of the tape that had minor creases, but that was to be expected, and he'd only caught them when the tape glinted in the light of his screen.

It wasn't restored back to its former un-torn state, but it also was not incapable of being put back together as long as it was given a little care and attention. 

...

Something about that spoke to him, and the poster gained a new value in his eyes, a new meaning, completely separate from its original purpose as a momento of the past, but with its new face, it promised a future Tenna was looking forward to, even if it had begun from tragedy. Tenna felt like instead of looking at this reminder of their days with melancholy and the urge to drown his sorrows and regrets, it filled him with a sense of purpose, and the need to see his partner fulfilled.

“I HAVE A [Placed] T;0o put it.”

Tenna had nearly jumped at Spamton’s words, his thoughts ceasing to make way for the silence of the moment. He grinned sheepishly, slightly embarrassed by being out of the moment like that.

“I'm fine with that, until the day I find a frame! Go right ahead. What do you have in mind?” Tenna said as he handed Spamton the poster. With another strand of tape, Spamton took it from him and walked toward the crack in the wall where Tenna had thrown the figurine at him, and angled the poster as high up as he could, not nearly covering the damage.

“HEY, YOU’RE [Skyscraper Heights]! HELP A [[Short Stack]] OUT HERE.”

Tenna made his way towards the damage, taking the poster from Spamton below him. “You know I have to patch this all up eventually.”

“RIGHT. BUT CONSIDER IT A;s PUTTING A [First Aid Patch] ON IT INSTEAD. YOU KNOW, OUT OF [[Sites for your online business]], OUT OF MIND.”

…

Can't argue with that. He has a point. Just cover it up for now. 

Tenna nodded and put the poster up over the crack in the wall. A small task, but one that, once it was completed, had him stepping backwards and brushing his hands together as if they'd both accomplished a feat of great importance.

They stared at it together in silence, until Spamton spoke up, his voice cutting through that stillness of the moment.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK, [[CRTs]]?”

“I think it… it looks nice.” Tenna smiled down at the puppet, putting one of his hands on his hip. “Better than it did before!"

I think we need an updated one, though. Hopefully he'd agree? I'd get Shuttah on it, we'd set the lights just right, just like it used to be. But… now? Or… maybe it's too soon.

…

“...DAMN, I uS3d TO [B] A rEAL [Looker] BACK THEN, DiDn’t I?”

The comment from Spamton was said softly, with its own brand of mourning, one that Tenna hadn't heard from him entirely yet. His screen shuttered with static, unsure of how to respond to that exactly, as the doubts on the poster flipped through his head like channels. 

Maybe this was a bad idea, we should have done something else, he's still having thoughts about that, who wouldn't?

It doesn't matter, as long as you're here. No, but this did matter to him. This sounds like it does matter to him–

You still are, to me! Does that count?

Maybe it's something I can explain.

You still look great. You look fine!

“What? C’mon, Spammy, you look fi–”

Tenna felt an equal pressure on the other side of his hip, and the sudden action made him cut himself off in surprise to see Spamton was leaning the side of his head against him. 

“I WOULD HAVE LIKED TO [Home Improvement] MY [[Built_From_scrRatch]]    SHOP BACK IN THE [City’s Transit] WITH YOU.” He emitted a glitchy, buzzing hum, and Tenna’s brow raised. “IT WOULD HAVE MADE [[Reach to new heights]] THINGS SO MUCH E@;syER." 

...

I still want to reassure him. He's had to have gotten used to the whole puppet thing, but still. He looks like himself. To me. 

“Oh, is that all I'm good for?” Tenna let out a light chuckle. “I see how it is.”

“YOU DON’T EVEN [[Need to Climb that corporate Ladders]]. I THREW MY [Ask Your Doctor if              is right for you] OUT TRYNA REACH… THOSE HIGH [points]....”

Threw his what out?

I’m not even going to ask him to clarify, he looks like he's going to fall over.

“I thought we said we weren't lying to each other anymore,” Tenna murmured, scooping Spamton up in his arms. Spamton hadn't fought back, only seemed to fall limp in his hold, like some sort of ragdoll. 

“WHAT? NOW IS [[Single Chiropractors in Your Area]] SUCH A FAR-FETCHED THING FOR YOU TO BELIEVE?”

“I mean about lying to me about being tired.” Tenna strolled over to the couch, before sitting down. “You're practically dozing off standing up, you dummy.”

“D;0n’T [Incoming call] ME THAT.”

What? A-

…

Shit–!

“O-oh, sorry! That slipped out- I mean, I didn't mean it in that way, I just–”

“I KNOW,” Spamton cut him off and clenched Tenna’s shirt in his hands, burying his forehead into his shoulder. “IT’S [A-Ok]. IF ANYONE’S THE [Specilty handcrafted Dummies] IT’S YOU BECAUSE YOU LIED TO ME FIRST. yoURE THE [One, the only] WHO’S REALLY [low battery, please recharge].”

Well, I don't know how he clocked that but he did. 

The longer he stayed seated, especially with the pressure of Spamton in his arms, the more tension he felt slowly leave him, and he leaned back more, his screen flickering as he tried to keep his wits about him.

“I'm not even battery powered. I'm corded.”

“THEN THIS IS GONNA BE ONE [Hefty Build] EL3CTRETRICY BILL iF YOU’RE STILL [[Powered On]]. DOE3sn’T DISTRACT ME FROM KNOWING YOU’RE [[30% Off Tires]].”

Tenna shifted himself to the side with Spamton still in his arms, the back of his head being supported by the arm of the couch, as he lay on his back with the puppet secured on his chest. The color of his screen dimmed in color and brightness as he eased against the cushions.

“Okay, fine. But… I just… don't want to face what's going to happen tomorrow. They're all gonna…” His chest and throat felt tight enough to the point where they were restricting the words that came out of his mouth. 

They're all gonna hate me.

“...Hate me.”

Spamton didn't respond back to that, instead propping himself up on an elbow to look down at Tenna’s screen. He opened his mouth, but then closed it with a soft 'clack’, looking off to the side, as if words died in his throat and he genuinely was searching for comforts towards the larger darkner that didn't come for a while.

You can talk to me, I’ll take anything at this point, even if it's so garbled I can't understand it.

“...I DON’T THINK. THEY WILL. [[Universally Hated]] ISN’T YOUR    STYLE. YOU DON’T [Model it, work it] WELL AT ALL. [Beloved by all], THOUGH? NOW THAT’S A [[TV Tagline]].”

“You really think so?”

“HEY THEY DON’T CALL ME [Spamton G.    ] BEST J;udGE OF [[character of your new hires matter]] FOR NOTHING! YOU HAVE TO HAVE THIS [[$&%#]] [Locked&Loaded] IF YOU WANT TO GET INTO [all kinds of]           SALES.” Spamton gestured with hand, rolling it at the wrist. “YOUR [[Public Access]] LOVES TV. IM AN [Xpert] IN [[Marketibility]], AND KNOW YOU'VE [Got the Goods]. SO TAKE IT FROM ME, [Screen Savers]. Y0u’LL BE FINE. IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT.”

I swear I've heard the same lines during when I'd have doubts in our program before we went live. You're still trying to cheer me up, even now.

“Oh you will, will you?” Tenna smirked lazily.

“[Counting on you, sport] ON IT. THEY’lL be GIVING YOU [[Vip Admission]] WHEN I’M [finishing up] WITH THEM.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll take your word for it.” Tenna’s half smirk turned into a full smile as he wrapped both his arms around the back of Spamton's waist.

The two didn't say anything, though Spamton looked pleased his promise was being taken to heart.

“...I'm just really glad you're here. And that you didn't run away back at the cafe. Why didn't you run?”

There was a silence that followed, and Spamton looked despondently downward, as if he stewed in those words...

as if he was truly wrapping his mind around the fact he didn't.

“         NO ONE. HAS. DONE THAT. FOR ME. MY [[Entire Lot# contaminated]] LIFE, NO ONE HAS EVER DONE THAT FOR ME.”

“What? Looked like a giant fool in front of you? Well, sorry this was your first t–”

“NO. SHUT UP.” Spamton's fingers clenched the fabric of Tenna’s shirt on his chest. “YOU STOOD UP. FOR ME. it’S ALWAYS [Pick on the Lil Guy] SEASON WITH [[Everyone in the crowd]]. NOT JUST THE [Color mixers], BUT EVERYONE. [Accept? ✓/X] YoU... FOR SOME DAMN REASON. YOU’Re THE ONLY ONE WHO DOESN’T [dismiss msg] ME AND I… wanted to thank you.”

...

You shouldn't have to thank me for not dismissing you. For not rejecting you.

“...I really don't see why more darkners don't.”

“I STILL DON’T SEE WHY YOU DID. IT NEVER [do you work out] LIKE THAT.” A small glitch took over his head and he softly groaned, crossing his arms over Tenna's chest, and rested the bottom half of his face against them, his nose propped over his arms. 

“IT’S LIKE I’Mm G01nGG TO [Wake up Fresh and Rejuvenated] RIGHT BACK WHERE I WAS BEFORE I [[Dinnnner Winner]] WITH [The power of]        . AND THEN IT WILL BE [[Back to the Ol’ Grind]]. soMETIMES MY [Beautifil_Head] STILL PUTS ME THERE.”

Back before he got Neo. Back when he was thrown away.

“There’s times I feel the same. Like it's a ‘too good to be true’ moment, right? And then you feel you're going to wake up and it's all back to the same routine.”

“MHM.” Spamton hummed, and it was obvious he wasn't looking at his screen anymore.

“But I don't know… that kiss we had, the– ok the many, uhm, w-we had. The many I did, or the moment we shared. It felt real. The… well, everything with it! You felt real, the… emotions you made me feel felt real.”

To his amusement, he saw Spamton’s cheeks pinch in that familiar smile, even if part of it was concealed behind his crossed arms. “YOU’RE NOT [Seryisly] GONNA ASK ME TO [[Pucker up, Buttercup]] EVERY TIME YOU’RE NOT FEELING LIKE [Reality Simulation], ARE YOU?”

“N-no! Of course not.” Tenna’s face flushed and his brow pinched. “Not unless you wanted to!” 

Now he was the one looking away, and felt his screen burn because why did he have to bring that up. It was still so new, and too fresh–

“I M3aN… WE’vE NEVER [Exchanged Zipcodes] IN A [[Garbage Can]] OR EVEN IN A [troubles of a flooded basement], SO WHY NOT? CAN’T GO BACK TO A LIFE OF [plundering deals] IF I’M [[Make it Out to]] IN THE MOMENT WITH A FINE       [Hot//Single in Ur Ar3a]. THERE’S PERKS TO THIS [Supscribt1on], OBVIOUSLY!”

Tenna snorted at the ads, and his chest shook with a tidbit of laughter as he hugged his mailman closer to him. “Are you flirting? Now?”

“YOU STARTED IT, BUSTER. BE;s1deS, NO ONE TOLD ME [When subscribing, your package will] CONTAIN THE FOLLOWING:        OF A TALL [Glass of Water, every day!]. I GUESS I NEED TO [Get good at Climbing] IN ORDER TO MEET A KISS [quota] FOR THOSe [Quarterly] RESULTS.”

Tenna snickered, and his smile wobbled into place as his screen heated. “God, you're impossible.” He murmured sarcastically, yet lightheartedly, and Spamton took that with a grin that spread throughout his face. “I missed this. I missed you. You're the only one who could have ever made me feel like this.”

Spamton seemed to melt at that, uncrossing his arms and wrapping one of them around Tenna’s chest as far as it could go, using the other one as a makeshift pillow for his head as he rested his temple against his arm. “I [Sorry we missed you] YOU TOO. I [prayed] FOR THIS s0met;imES. WHO KNEW… SOMEONE WAS LISTENING…?”

The glitchy feedback of Spamton’s voice trailing off made his exhaustion hit a peak, and he made a mental note to maybe bring up his prayers in the future when he wasn't so worn out. Tenna's limbs felt heavy, and focusing on the way his little mailman in front of him rose and fell on his chest with their combined breathing patterns, Tenna felt his senses ease into relaxation, and his screen dimmed in brightness little by little…

Until powering off with his typical ‘thwip’ sound, and darkness engulfed the room.

…

…

…

There was a soft knock at the door.

…

What?

…

Who’s there?

Ugh… does it matter?

Still so tired…

After…

that…

…

…

Another knock sounded, this time just a bit louder. 

…

…

To the viewers listening at home…

make your guesses in the polls… who it could... be...

...

…

Muffled voices followed, just far away enough to be slightly discernible, like it was right outside the door of his room.

“Ey boss, I don't think he's around.”

“Where else would he be? Wasn't with that Ralsei kid, maybe the best place to find him is the most obvious one.”

“Or maybe he's still sleepin’.”

“This late in? He never sleeps this late!” 

“Well we ain't been around to set up the schedule. Maybe we just come back later.”

“Don't make me second guess our decision to give up this gig in the first place! I'm already feeling bad enough as it is. We leave him and look what happens!”

…

A third knock followed, more insistent after that.

Tenna’s screen hummed with activation, making a few clicks as he powered himself on, tilting his head up and actively listening for more intruding sounds that broke him out of unconsciousness. A sharp buzz followed as light fizzled into his screen, and static crossed over it a couple times as if to ward traces of sleep away.

“...Maybe it's not too late to let Plues be Mike? Just thinkin’ aloud.”

“Wha-? What's wrong with me being Mike for now? Ya got a problem?”

“I'm just sayin’. Think he'd be a better candidate for calmin’ the big man down if he's not answerin’. You didn't see how he was last night. Maybe he could use some cat Mike TLC.”

There was a hesitant string of what sounded like saxophone played low and slow.

I know those voices. Shit, are they here–?!

Tenna’s screen brightened significantly as he sat up on an elbow, electricity buzzing through his antennas and hearing a soft glitchy groan beside him. He'd rotated onto his side during his sleep, and was holding Spamton in his arms just enough so he hadn't fallen off the side of the couch. The puppet stirred in his own sleep, his glasses lopsided on his face as he pressed his forehead into Tenna’s chest. 

He looked so, so adorable. It was enough to get Tenna’s heart to flutter seeing him like this, but almost immediately it was like his attention ricocheted back into the heat of the moment and the lack of decision.

Later. Please don't let now be the last time I'll experience this. I'll come back to it later. 

With haste, and groggy recently-awoken steps, Tenna stood from laying down on the couch, cradling his small mailman in his arms. The two had fallen asleep in the living room, still in their everyday clothes. How late was it into the day? How long had he overslept? Did it matter? The consequences were on the horizon today, he may as well have looked the part with his wrinkled dress shirt, undone tie and bent antenna. Thinking on his feet, he walked quickly into the bedroom and laid Spamton on the bed, on that nest of blankets and pillows he'd scrounged up for himself the day before.

Tenna was ready to face them, the consequences that is, but after hearing traces of his previous employees, he was already feeling his nerves skyrocket. Once he'd laid Spamton down, the puppet looked to instinctively reach out and grab one of the pillows to his side, hugging it close to his body and burying his face into it with a bitcrushed hum of annoyance.

I know, I know. I want more sleep too. 

“Get some sleep. This won't be long, okay?”

With that murmur, Tenna left the room and closed the door behind him, fixing his shirt as best he could, tucking it where it was needed into his pants and brushing any obvious wrinkles down. His collar was lopsided and he didn't have time to do his tie but–

“I don't think it matters which one…”

”Yeah, as long as one of them is here, he’ll like it, I think.” 

Those were Elnina and Lanino’s voices. So far he was counting five of his previous employees and froze, inwardly counting on the hope that maybe it ended there and that the entire studio hadn't… come to see him. Not after last night, where undoubtedly…

Everyone knows what happened.

Everyone.

Knows.

Their reactions last night to his emotional state, their looks of concern before the conversation with Swatch about Spamton. Their fear after and attempts to talk him down. 

Tenna dragged a hand down his face, his glove catching most of the static from his screen as he held a hand over his mouth upon the reflections getting more and more clear. His size dwindled the more he thought about it, and visuals flashed in his mind as his height came down. The room got steadily larger around him, as the cafe's space got rapidly smaller in his memory.

Gritting his teeth and putting his foot down, he was going to clear his mind of those images for now, as he didn't want his visitors to see him act so pathetic. There was no doubt they had before, but it would at least help him act like he had it together. He'd handle this apology like a champ, clean the air of miscommunication, maybe provide an explanation or two as to why he'd reacted the way he did, then march to that cafe and fix it up. 

And just tell the truth. It's okay! I have… Spamton here.

I made this choice for him.

…I don't regret making this choice for him.

The television darkner gathered himself, and shook off the anxieties by shaking his hands at his sides before walking towards the door. He gripped the handle, and after stilling his breath and swallowing roughly, enough to hear an audible ‘gulp’, he cracked it open ever so slightly.

“...Who is it?”

Even his voice sounded small, and he cringed at the shrill reluctance behind it. This was uncharacteristic of him. Where was that boisterous TV host demeanor he'd boasted even through the most difficult of times? Would it really be so hard to put on another show?

“H-hey b– uhm, sir! Glad to hear you're up and about!” What sounded like Lanino started. 

“We just came to check on you, see how you were doing.” Elnina followed up.

“I'm fine, Peachy Keen even...!” Tenna meekly said, with an attempt to spruce up his delivery, even if the attempt landed metaphorically flat on its face. He forced a smile as he opened the door a little wider, finding that he stood roughly below the height of the zapper in front of him, beside a shadowguy, the weather duo, and–

“M-mike?”

“In the flesh! Back from, uh, a grand intermission!” The microphone darkner, who was definitely a microphone, said proudly. He looked a bit nervous, but Tenna was just more perplexed that he was here. The last he'd heard from him was the cut off of feedback via his antenna and the stage lights shutting off, as Tenna assumed Mike got out of TV Time while the door was closing and the show was coming to an end. 

“Sir, you ain't lookin’ too good. Bits on the short side.” The zapper observed. Tenna’s good antenna wilted as he clutched the door handle in a shaking grip.

You left me like everyone else when I needed you most. You were all I had and you still left. 

“You left. Back at the studio. Wh-where did you go?”

“Well I, you know it's a busy task bein’ Mike and all! Then I heard there was a recording room in the works down at the TV building and decided to give it a good look-see! See if it holds up to snuff like our last one did back home. I haven't seen you around, though! You must have been busy!”

That's an understatement.

Tenna didn't say anything, and a flash of guilt crossed his features.

“That and dem lightners also dropped off the microphone in castle town later on,” The zapper chipped in with an enthusiastic aiding nod of the shadowguy beside them. “Musta forgot with everyone else on the move, see.”

“Yup! That too!” Mike fixed his bow-tie and modeled an all-too-convincing grin, appearing grateful to the zapper for including that latter tidbit. “Guess this town couldn't handle all this Mike at first, but I'm here now! Giving the backbone of the studio a special reunion appearance, just like you said.”

…I did say that. How'd he know I said that? These two must have told him.

“I… did say that, didn't I? Ahaha, well…!” Tenna opened the door fully, putting on his best attempt at a showman’s smile, though it was visually unsteady as it had been. He wasn't sure he could maintain it, not with everything weighing on him. “It would be great to start working with you again, Mike! The sooner we get to broadcasting, the sooner these darkners can have some true entertainment…”

He trailed off, and that smile broke, remembering the lack of audience engagement of last night’s performance, how fear seemed to stem off the reactions, and not in a good way. Reviews would have been piling in at this point, none of them positive, and even Mike would ideally be filled in at this point with what he'd done.

“Just… not from me. You don't want me as any type of lead entertainer at the moment. N-not until I get things back to the way they were and make everything right. And I can, there's a plan I'm working on, just whatever you heard or… s-saw yesterday-” 

“Nonono, you got it all wrong, sir!” Mike waved his hands out in front of him. “This ain't about sprucin' back up production, or even a broadcast! No, we're here for you!”

Tenna paused, and he'd tensed, his brow scrunching as he withdrew into himself. “For me?” 

"You were lookin' like you was goin' through something tough last night," The zapper added in. “And we wanna be there in your corner.”

“Just like the good ol’ days at the studio! Y’know! Tenna and Mike! You just say the word, we’ll– or I’ll make it happen. What do you say you fill us in on what's been happening while I've been out?”

The cat-like shadowguy nodded and added his own support in a string of a lax and mild saxophone tune, before nudging Mike lightly and gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder at the weather duo.

“Right, no yeah! What he said!” Mike looked over at the shadowguy and then back up at Tenna. “It was your second in command’s idea! Thought we'd all try to get to talk to you as soon as we could. Considerin’ everything. And there's plenty more of the studio where that comes from! We were all really worried about ya.”

“You… were worried about me?” Tenna asked, looking towards the weather duo mainly, genuinely surprised. “Even after the way I talked to you both? T-talked to you all?” 

“Of course we are,” Lanino spoke up. “One minute it was bright and sunny skies! Then the next thing we knew, everything was crashing down and then–”

“We noticed there was something wrong beforehand,” Elnina cut off her lover by clasping his wrist. “But we weren't sure what it could be. We didn't know and talked about how we should have been there more for you.”

Tenna didn't say anything, appreciating the sentiment but still feeling like he should be offering some kind of explanation for everything they'd experienced last night.

I was out of control. I was so overwhelmed and I regret it so much.

“You had no way of knowing,” Tenna mumbled and grabbed his arm, clenching the fabric of his dress shirt. “I was out of line and made… things so much worse just with how I acted. It was a one-time thing though…! I doubt I’ll ever be allowed back.”

“Yeah, but we know how you get with your mood, sir,” Mike stepped in. “We're not holding it against you, I’m sure we can all put in a good word for you once we settle it with the cafe staff!”

…How I get with my mood. They're all used to it by now. Why wouldn't they be? It's just one of the many things about dealing with me as their superior for so long. And now everyone knows, even if they're not from home.

That's why Mike's here. To pick up the pieces. 

He tried to resist the follow-up reaction, but his emotional state had other plans as he'd massively dipped in height. He’d let go of the door handle as it got out of reach and regret masked his features as his vulnerability became spectacle again. In just that instant, Mike’s smile dropped and he looked suddenly nervous.

“Oh jeez… Didn't mean anything by that, boss–!” 

“Hey Mike,” The zapper spoke up, leaning over to talk down to Mike. “Ex-nay on the ‘Boss’-tay. He's not feelin’ it much anymore, ain't that right, Mr. Tenna?”

It shouldn't just be something they're used to! I should have been done with this ‘how I get with my mood’ the moment they decided to save my life! That's why they decided to in the end, right?! Maybe they thought, for just a slim chance, that I'd be over and done with it! 

“I don't… I really don't know. You all don't have to call me that anymore. I'm not going to like…! Lash out and start wrecking everything or hurting you all if you don't say it…! Haha, those days are far behind me!” Tenna waved his hand by his head in a joking manner, attempting the slightest smile before he crumbled again.

'Far behind me.' What a joke. It hasn't even been a full day.

“We know you ain't gonna do that.”

“Yeah, sir! There's no doubt in our minds you mean the best nowadays." Mike said. "You're still the boss despite not having us contracted and all.”

"Not our boss, but like, the boss." Lanino added.

"Right, that's all we mean by it," Elnina confirmed Lanino's statement. "We didn't know you felt so strongly about it."

Tenna couldn't look back at any of them, and his face cut to black as he held his hands behind his back. "I don't. Out of all the things to get mad about, that's one of the sillier ones. Just with everything going on, I... may have gotten the wrong impression. And I'm sorry."

I just didn't want to think I was trapping anyone. Or they were obligated to cater towards me as a leader. I can't admit that...! Really, I don't think of myself as above anyone anymore.

Mike stooped down, resting a hand on Tenna’s shoulder. “Look, you have people waitin’ on ya that wanna help! Maybe we even go to the TV building and show you that new recording room? It might take your mind off things for the better!”

“That sounds like it would be a good idea. You always had the best ideas, Mike. But I have so much to make up for already and–” Tenna continued to sulk, but then looked up at Mike. “I need to talk with someone first before I go anywhere. A friend of mine I've reconnected with recently.”

“Does it happen to be…” Lanino interjected by putting up one of his fingers. “That same friend you told us about last night?”

“It is. That's the one.”

Spamton. I have to tell them about Spamton. He's the reason I did what I did, but… Spamton would have to agree to others knowing about him.

And how I don't regret what I did for his sake, because I know I loved him for who he was and who he is. That and standing up for him obviously meant a lot to him.

The five fell silent, with side glances to the others. The three including Mike looked at the weather duo, for a seemingly unspoken confirmation, and Elnina nodded after a beat. At that, the one who broke the silence was the shadowguy, rubbing the back of his neck as he mumbled a sparse tune after a series of rests, before ending the cord in an upward pitch as he posed his question.

The other two’s gazes shot towards him and Tenna winced in embarrassment, the light returning with his face.

Well that answers that. I guess they all connected the pieces already, even without an explanation.

“He doesn't mean it like that, sir!” Mike tried to save this, because of course Mike would try to save this. Just as Mike tried to save his failed TV City board from any more quizzes to get the lightners out of the doom board spiral. “No one’s saying that, absolutely no one!”

“I mean, that little guy last night did look somethin’ like him. Maybe Plue’s right?” The zapper gestured with their hand as they intervened. “Maybe the big man did get back with his ex, who's to say except himself?”

“Still, that's sensitive stuff! Warn a guy before you drop mention of the mailman in here!”

Mention of him. 

Oh no, we're not like those cyber darkners. We're not going to just not talk about him. 

“Mike, just, let me explain, alright?” 

For the love of the light, I'm the worst. This looks horrible! No, alright, I just need to pull myself together. Start off small and lead up to it. I already started off big with destroying everything last night. 

Starting off small wouldn't work either after everything. There's too much to say. Start off somewhere else. This really can't get any worse than it already is so might as well put all cards on the table. 

Tenna shrugged from Mike’s hand on his shoulder, and his size increased in an instant as he put his hands up, taking a step forward towards the group so as to avoid the quickly approaching top of the doorframe above his head. The now smaller darkners backed away from him, not out of apparent wariness, but rather just allowing him the space he needed to get himself back to his regular size. 

“I did! Happy? My major secret exposed? Good! A-and sure, you can tell everyone! I don't care, I don't mind it! I'm back together with my former cohost. Someone must have seen it coming once we all ended up here! There. I said it, and you can quote me just in case any tabloids come pounding at your door. Everyone should put it in lights while they're at it! Why not?”

The five were silent, before the shadowguy spoke again, a reluctant questioning melody with another upward inflection, but in more sympathetic half notes. 

Tenna took a deep breath in and held it, tensing as he only knew how he would be seen would vary greatly with his answer. He let his gaze stray off to the side as he spoke, and though he wouldn't have changed his answer for the world, that returning shame couldn't help but curdle in his words.

“...Yes. He did try to hurt me, but I hurt him too, and I hurt him first. We hurt each other. But I'm okay…! We're okay. Funny story, actually, is that it ended up being like a tiiiiny tidbit of a couple of shared mistakes?”

Can’t wait to tell everyone that part. What the hell are they all going to think? Sorry I was a raging asshole, because everything you've gone through for ten years was all because of a miscommunication. That's going to roll over sooo well!

“But he's the one who ditched all of us!” Mike exclaimed, disbelief in his voice. “He's the one who got us unpl–!”

“I Know. I know.” Tenna fanned down his hands towards his three ex-employees. “Trust me, I know how this looks from the offset! This whole production probably looks like a mess…! And it… well, it is. But Mike, he needs me right now and I–”

And I need him.

Probably a lot more than he needs me.

He cut himself off, biting his tongue as he clasped his hands behind him again before sighing. “Would you want to step inside? I promise, I’ll explain everything. And if you're going to hear rumors, I'd rather you hear what happened from me first.”

“Everything?” Mike said, a little bit too intrigued, and cleared his throat as he put his hands up with a twitch in his strained grin. “Well, no one likes rumors, after all! It’ll be nice to connect the dots on this conundrum I've walked into. Had to shut down all the theories, so hearin’ it all outright will clear things up.”

Tenna smiled, grateful that Mike was at least a little understanding, even if they all didn't seem too thrilled to hear Spamton was even around in any capacity. The expressions of Elnina and Lanino in particular looked a bit… disheartened at that, actually. Like they expected something different.

First glancing over his shoulder at the empty room to make sure the bedroom door was still closed, Tenna stepped inside, allowing the rest of the TV Time crew to enter after him.

“Still waiting on moving in with that lightner here soon, sir?” Mike asked, his hands on his hips. 

“Ahaha, yeah, I may have exaggerated a little bit on how I've maybe unpacked when I haven't?” Tenna rubbed the back of his neck nervously, and couldn't help but shift his attention towards the weather duo below him.

I really thought the lightners wouldn't take this long but I suppose their hometown doesn't have many takers for a new TV at the moment. Which is fine. I’d need some time to… wrap everything up here.

Elnina and Lanino didn't look back at him, and immediately he felt that familiar pang of shame for the lie of claiming he had everything unpacked. It appeared his attempts at not getting the weather duo to worry about him had been unsuccessful, and he felt miserable for even trying to stage himself as holding himself together with how bad this had all fallen apart.

“B-but! I have some studio supplies, you know, like we used for the sets? Or what you used to design the sets?” Tenna continued to Mike. “Some ended up with me. There's paints, tape, some lighting material? I thought most of it would be at the TV building already but I’ll take this as an extra incentive to get myself back up and moving! But I didn't get any soundproofing or recording equipment.”

“No worries, we gots all the soundproofin’ stuff we needs.” The zapper piped in, giving a thumbs up at Tenna. “We Mikes got it all figured out.”

We? Hmm. Must be nice for Mike to finally have some helping hands.

“Well great…! Another weight off my shoulders, at least! Everything else I can help out with–”

“You should take care of yourself first, sir.” Elnina offered gently. “After the storm from last night, you should take it easy until the next forecast.”

Tenna didn't continue on with the conversation he was cut off from, choosing to fall silent instead, really unsure of how to respond to that. This genuine care felt out of place, and was something he couldn't wrap his head around coming from those that he'd treated so maliciously.

I can't take it easy. I have so much to do.

“So the ‘friend you made recently’-” Lanino had decided to switch it up from there, asking the leading question that was most likely on both of their minds. “He was the mailman this whole time?”

Tenna tried to appear unbothered at it, but the twinge in his smile probably betrayed his emotions otherwise. “Whoops! Cat's out of the bag! Yes, sorry. Not the freshest start you were probably expecting or rooting for, I can tell.”

“So when we said all of that last night,” Elnina started and put her hand over her mouth. “Tenna, we weren't thinking-! We just wanted to be supportive. Maybe if you had a fresh start, it meant you were adjusting to castle town better.”

“Hey, I appreciated it! Actually, more than I can say…! It was a touch of normalcy in the crazy few days I was having.” He twiddled his thumbs in front of him, and held in a breath. “You don't even know. It's still… kind of a fresh start? Everything's changed. He’s changed. F-for not exactly better, but it's overwhelmingly different and I'm okay with it being this different! Because it's better than how it was before when I knew nothing about him or where he went or why he left and–”

He cut off his rambling before it could begin and turned to face all his prior employees, putting up his hands. “Wait here. Make yourselves comfortable, actually! I know I could have made it more home-y but I really wasn't expecting visitors! Haha, just give me a second. I'll show you what I mean-”

I'll just talk to him. Ask him to come on out. It's okay, now! It's all okay. What did they say last night? ‘Any friend of Tenna’s is a friend of ours’? That'd include Spamton, despite it all, right? 

It's not like I have any other options now. And I refuse to keep him more of a secret or, god forbid, a ‘curse’ like his dark world did.

Before any of the TV time crew could object or give their own thoughts, Tenna turned his back on them, walking adamantly towards the bedroom. He'd opened the door for only a brief moment, when he could feel himself yanked forward by his pant legs onto the other side and he shut the door behind him.

Spamton was awake, and looked to have been beside the door eavesdropping on what the TV darkners had been discussing on the other side. That would have explained his quick proximity to the door once Tenna intended on letting himself in, as well as the firm hold Spamton had on the fabric of his pants.

“WHAT THE [Help Wanted] ARE YOU SAYING OUT THERE…!?” He muttered through grit teeth, in as much of a hushed voice as he could muster, even with his ads getting in the way. “SAYING YOU’LL [[Show me off~]] LIKE SOME KIND OF DAMN      [trophied] [[Sponsorship Deal]]???” He let go of Tenna’s pant legs and gestured madly out in front of him, a glitch skimming past his head.

“No. I’m fixing my reputation with my crew…!” Tenna shot back, in a similar volume, matching the ticked off tone of the puppet. “You know, the thing you said you'd help me with?” He put his hands on his hips. 

“AND HOW [Your] DOING THAT IS [[Tell your friends]] ABOUT [[Beware about the No-Good Toxic Type in the dating pool]]–” Spamton grumbled and ground his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “IT’S TOO. EARLY. FOR THIS [Try Our caffeinated options] [[Sweet Honey Iced Tea]].”

“I know. Okay? It's not the best, but what can I do? They came to check up on me. And I can't hide you anymore. Not after what you did to Swatch. You want rumors to spread, Spamton? Because this is how it happens…! They already know you tried to kill me, and if I'm still with you, I think you can imagine what they'll probably spread around with that...! So give me options, I’m open to them at this point…!”

Spamton tilted his head further down, his hand not leaving his face as he grumbled again, it coming out as a more irritated, incomprehensible glitched noise that emanated from the back of his throat.

“WHAT WAS EVEN YOUR PLAN…?! YOU JUST THOUGHT I’D [Presentations are in 5 minutes] MYSELF TO EVERYONE JUST BECAUSE I’M st1lL [Head Over Heels] ff0R YOU…?!”

“Yes, actually. Because in your words you were going to explain everything–”

“THAT WAS TO [[Easels]], YOU [DingDong.mp3] CRT! NOT YOUR [[Support Union Labor and Fair Film]]...!”

A union ad for film employees? Really? How bad of a boss did he think I was for that to get caught in the mix? 

No, stay on track. He's just upset.

“Okay, okay. I didn't have a plan…! I just reacted. But in my defense, I hoped I'd get your support on this...! These darkners are important to me. You're important to me. I'd like to keep you both. What's even the problem? Why are you acting like this?”

“IS IT NOT [onvious]-?! I’M nOt READY,” Spamton mumbled. “TH0sE [Cheap Shots] knEW ME WHEN I LOOKED- WHEN I LOOKED- WHEN I LOOKED-” His jaw clicked shut and he shakily inhaled before proceeding. “WHEN I DIDN’T LOOK LIKE THE THING YOU’D SEE IN [[Glass Windows]] OF A [Prop Shop]...! I… I… just thOUGHT I’D HAVE MORE [Time] TO AVOID IT. YOUR REACTION WAS BAD ENOUGH."

He ran his hands through his hair and tugged on his scalp and Tenna’s attitude faltered as he crouched down to kneel in front of Spamton. 

He's right. This came out of nowhere for him. It's got to be a real pain being so different and having others be aware of that difference too when there's nothing either of us can do about it. It's one of the reasons he's been in hiding so long, after all. One of the reasons why he stuck with not being recognized. 

“Hey,” Tenna slowly slid his hands around Spamton’s face, brushing his thumbs against his red painted cheeks. “It's gonna be okay. These darkners mean well, they really do. I doubt they'll care about what you look like. I know I don't…! I couldn't care less. I just keep seeing the most adorable little mailman in front of me each time.”

Spamton’s grip loosened on his head, and his face flushed as he looked away. “I CAN SEE THROUGH YOUR [[Sleazy]] [Tricks & Tips], [[Cathode]]. YOU’RE TRYING TO GET ME TO [Make a show of it]. TAKE ME [Out of my case].”

“Is it working?”

“A LITTLE. YOU’RE STILL [scum of the earth] FOR TRYING IT.”

“Would it be trying if I didn't mean it wholeheartedly, though?” Tenna moved his thumb under the temple of Spamton’s glasses and slightly tilted them upward, and Spamton closed his eyes when he did, before Tenna gave him a soft kiss between them. Spamton didn't say anything, but his relaxed smile told Tenna everything he needed to know about what his decision would be.

“For me…? Please. I can't promise everything will go smoothly, but I'll do my best to make it so it does.”

“FINE. FOR THE [[sweet love]] OF [Heaven], YOU REALLY KNOW HOW TO [Make your man do what you want]–" Spamton cringed at the ad, squinting angrily and rolling his eyes. "MAKE. ME. DO WHAT YOU WANT. BUT I’M NOT DOING IT BECAUSE YOU [[Ask3d]] ME…! BUT BECAUSE THESE [empty-headed hooligans] DON’T KNOW THE [[Crime stories at 6 est]] AND I CAN TELL THEM WHATEVER THE [Helmet PPE] I WANT. Y’KNOW. MOLD A GOOD [sympathie story] OUT OF IT.”

“As long as it's the truth, then sure.” Tenna said and lowered Spamton’s glasses back down, getting to his feet. 

“NO [[Well-kept promises]], TENS. BUT THEN AGAIN, YOU KN0w WHAT YOU [Signed up] FOR.” 

Yes, but I also know what we talked about last night and how much it means to you that you're a better person than what you were. You don't need to twist the truth. 

“WELL? WHAT ARE YOU JUST [No Loitering in the Parking Lot] AROUND FOR? GO OUT THERE AND [Break a Leg]. I’M R1g;hT >>[Behind You].”

Tenna nodded once and turned back around towards the door, opening it and seeing all the faces of his five employees looking at him as he walked back in the living room. No one said a thing at first, but Tenna watched as they all gazed at him with curiosity.

“Welcome back, boss! What took ya so long?” Mike said. “Or has that salesman just not changed from taking forever to come out of his dressing room?”

“H;h  HE3 Y! WHo’S THIS   [[Feedback Funnel]] THINK H3 iS? I W4s ALWAYS [you're live] RIGHT ON mY [[Cues]] SO WATCH IT, BUB.”

Spamton had left the bedroom from right behind him, standing with his hands on his hips. Each one of the TV darkners froze seeing him, staring in obvious bewilderment, and Tenna felt his nerves spike as he heard Elnina softly gasp. Mike promptly went mute, gritting his teeth into a frown as sweat appeared on his temple. Lanino, the zapper and shadowguy said nothing, just stared at the puppet in front of them.

Spamton noticeably stiffened, and a glitch warped his features as he stood his ground, but was obviously having some second thoughts about doing this for him based on how Tenna could see his shoulders trembling. He needed to clear the air for Spamton, as the scene was already tense enough just from the unexpected nature of his reveal.

“Everyone, you remember my cohost Spamton!” Tenna gestured proudly to him. “The ‘email guy’ from when the laptop got dropped off? Well, he’s back!” 

“This… is Spamton?” Mike asked and pointed loosely at the puppet with an upturned hand, obviously incredibly confused. “Are you sure?”

Sure? As if I haven't struggled with being sure about it since day one, but no, I'm plenty sure now. He doesn't know that yet, though. He wouldn't! That's where I come in–

“Yes, I'm sure! Sure as I've ever been!”

“I gotta say these celebrity where-are-they-now recaps are gettin’ outta hand.” The zapper murmured to the shadowguy beside them.

“I don't mean to be rude, sir, but,” Mike pressed. “He just doesn't look like Spamton and what if this is some sort of a–”

“THAT’S [Spamton G. Spamton] T;t0 YOU!! [Pippsqueak]!!” Spamton marched forward towards Mike, his face slightly red. Mike jumped and shuffled backward a few steps, just to make some distance between him and Spamton. Tenna felt anxiety ripple at his display at Spamton’s reaction and contemplated holding him back if he had to.

“Who’s he calling pipsqueak?” Tenna heard Lanino whisper to Elnina, as they watched the salesman with unease.

“WHAT, HASN’T YOUR [[Hand this off to your Department H3ad]] NOT [Catch up in the breeze] YOU ABOUT ME?? [[#1 Rated Salesman ©1997]]?? OR DID HE JUST [Skip >>] OVER THE [[Appetizer Course]] ABOUT MY [Makeover]??” Spamton snarled, but maintained that smile of his. "STILL! IT'S GOOD TO BE [[Back in stock]] AND NICE TO [Meetcha]!"

Spamton, to Tenna’s surprise, jutted forward and took Mike’s hand in his own, attempting what looked like some kind of formal handshake, but came off as unsettling as the puppet usually did, which was apparent in Mike’s expression following the bombardment.

“Tenna, you didn't say he'd be soundin’ a bit more off-axis,” Mike looked nervous beyond a shadow of a doubt as he'd glanced up at Tenna, very clearly not expecting this outcome, and looked back towards Spamton, his expression twisting into what looked like annoyance. “Can you stop with the advertisements? I can't pick up what you're saying through the feedback.”

Spamton instantly looked like that had struck a nerve, his eye twitching.

I didn't say anything before. I should have. This could be going better. I should have done this better! What am I doing?! Say something!

“Actually, Mike, he can’t help-”

“SO I HAVE A LITTLE [Tired of the ads? Block Now with a monthly payment]-BASED        [Impeding clauses]! CONSIDER YOURSELF LU;cKKY THAT YOU’RE GETTING THESE [Soundbites downloads for Free], AS I CAN’T TURN THEM OFF.” Spamton audibly ground his teeth again. “DOESN’T DISTRACT FROM THE FACT I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU BEFORE IN MY [Est Runtime] EVEN WHILE I WAS UNDER [[Contract]].”

“...Hah haha!” Tenna laughed. “Spamton, come on, you know Mike!” He paused, actually thinking about it as he tapped the bottom part of his face with his finger. “Or, actually, hmm… maybe you don't. He hadn't started showing up in the studio until after you left. Physically at least.”

Mike’s expression dropped and he appeared visibly shaken before attempting a grin that was prone to fail at any time. He must have really been unnerved by Spamton, but then again, Tenna remembered when he was too.

“[[Mike]]?” Spamton narrowed his eyes and removed his hand from the other darkner’s grasp, almost as if it had burned him. “...but yOU’RE NOT–”

“Whoa now! H-hey! Let me stop you right there! Now I remember this guy! It's the Big Shot! Now don't be sayin’ what I think you're sayin’! Mics are a dime a dozen, and we dabble in plenty! Lavaliers, shotgun booms, studio standard mics, you name it-! Don't get me mixed up with another model now!” 

Spamton didn't say anything back to that, eyeing a very friendly-acting Mike now with suspicion. Tenna could appreciate the mic-based humor Mike was giving, surely trying to lighten the mood a little bit, and was at least a little content that part hadn't changed about his go-to guy behind the scenes.

“You really are him, aren't you? You're Spamton?” Elnina asked, and Spamton turned toward the weather duo instead. 

“Yeah you're not just saying that to mess with Tenna, are you?” Mike yammered on. Spamton was quiet to that, making glances at Mike with his brow pinched, but eventually raised his hands out at his sides, smiling in that too-wide award-losing sneer.

“CATCH THIS [New & Improved] SPECIL EDITION SALESMAN RATHER THAN [The one the only] YOU [[Used to know from TV]]. SEE, YOU TWO I REMEMBER!! THE [𝑀𝓇.] AND [𝑀𝓇𝓈. 𝒶𝓃𝒹]           [𝒮𝓅𝒶𝓂𝓉𝑜𝓃] !! DON’T THINK I’VE FORGOTTEN ABOUT [Home wethered station DIY], EVEN IF I’VE MISSED A FEW       REPORTS! EAHAHA!”

Tenna noticed Lanino looking over at the poster of the two of them on the wall and then back at Spamton, and it was obvious he was speechless, but it was to be expected. They all were.

“I am… so confused. You didn't have all those voices before you left everyone at the studio, right?” 

“Maybe it's best if I chimed in.” Now was time for Tenna to step in, and his hands felt clammy within his gloves, and he absentmindedly fidgeted with them. “You wouldn't mind that, would you Spamton? If I talked with them about you?”

“...KNOCK YOURSELF OUT.” Spamton didn't exactly look pleased by it, but rather resigned as his hands went to his sides. “I DOn’T GOT [Anything to Hide] ANYMORE FROM [[Its the cops! Gun it!]]. LAWYERS ARE [Pricey Peanuts] NOWADAYS ANYWAY. BUT I GET TO BUTT IN WHEN I WANT.”

“Sounds fair to me.” Tenna replied, and redirected his attention back to his TV crew, the concern and silence among all five members greeted him immediately, as if they were on the edge of their seats in a silent theater, but the story was one they had not paid to see.

He took a deep breath, and his screen dimmed, as he readied himself for the monologue of a lifetime with utter distress.

“So this is what happened, and this… is why I did what I did last night…”