Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was a funny thing about being in the right place at the wrong time. 

Sure, coming here was the plan, him and Tenna couldn't leave this thread unraveled, especially not after he noticeably felt better after his ex-employees came to check on him and lift his spirits.

In Spamton’s mind, he had hoped that his little strangling stunt would have been enough to at least rustle [Easels]’s feathers enough so that they'd see reason, know that they could only push him so far until he decided to strike back. The puppet hadn't factored in that he would have gone on a tangent, how he'd muzzled his ads enough to form some sort of coherency and show his witnesses that he was trying to make amends… but it seemed like that would fall on deaf ears and blind eyes.

This was the right place to be, in the crumbling catastrophe that was a setting to the aftermath of both of their limits being tested. It had even got more fitting when he remembered–

Oh yeah! [Easels] hates me! He thinks I'm the worst scum to ever have sentience! He probably thinks I don't deserve it! That when they were giving out this 'being alive’ shtick, that my name got put in a waiting list just a biiiit too high over, say, half a USB cord or a dried up pen. Hey! I didn't ask for this gig! I didn't ask to be alive! What makes you think you're so special when it comes to wanting me to stop existing?! What if I also wanted that?! 

What then, huh?! Would you change your mind because you couldn't handle us being even slightly alike?

He was conning himself if he ever convinced himself Swatch would see his reasoning. After all, he'd gone the extra mile the night before. The beginning of a domino line falling over. 

So why did I think I'd ever have a leg up in this thing?! What if I ruined everything already? What if Tenna realizes he doesn't have the patience for all the relationships I've screwed up? Oh [[Heaven]], how would I accept that when he's already… 

The alleyway. Fingertips pressed against his upper back, urging him forward. The atmosphere around him hot and suffocating in the way that made the lack of air feel like a dizzying blessing as displays of love sucked enough of it away to have an effect. A poster with tape lining the center. The reassurances…

‘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.’

…God dammit! Dammit! 

Even when he was the one attacking, he was somehow backed into a corner.

“They’re obviously trying to rile you up so you react, so why don't you put that down? We’ll think of something else.”

So when he heard Tenna’s voice try to calm him down, his grip tight around the spawned [pipis] in hand, his mind felt as if it had been placed haphazardly in an echo chamber of reminders of his inadequacy and unimportance in the grand scheme of unimportance. Everything was fuel to a fire that made Neo ring supreme in the chasm that made up his wants and desires, one impossible goal to make everything else fall into place. Hiding, scheming, those were all just tricks on how to acquire it in the first place, and sure, old habits die hard, hell, Swatch said the same thing to justify their swatchlings’ mistreatment of him… but now… he really was tired of it all.

He’d been exhausted after Neo had fallen through, but with that came the desire to live with a purpose, to fulfill a new selfless goal with the one thing he knew he was somewhat proficient in, and it hurt him to his very core. Being able to care, despite not being designed with that attribute, was the thing that led to his downfall. No, he wasn't good or proficient at anything, but the one thing that he'd done that actually showed him some results… was caring. For Kris, for their friends…

For Tenna.

He loves me, but can I throw away this old charade for something that can end at any moment? This hiding and running is a formula that works! Or… has worked. When I was trying to become Neo. Now I don't know what I'm here to do? Buy some time? …Live with Tenna? I want to live with Tenna but…

I have to stop at some point. This can't be my life here, I can't just reinvent feuding with [Easels] and hiding away like I did back before it all went… wrong. They just make it so damn hard! They…

“I TOLD THEM. THE [[Truth is in the Tubing]]. NO ONE. BELIEVES ME.”

“I believe you.” Tenna came in quick with that, and Spamton’s palm felt sweaty against the [pipis] projectile as his nerves relaxed to Tenna’s voice. 

He believes me. He believes that I mean what I mean. I really am tired of proving everyone right about what they think of me. But I keep ruining it and then, to make it worse, I dragged you down with me!

...I still have that invite for that second dance we never got to finish. I want to dance with you. I want to be out and open in nice suits we steal together, and we get to talk with your crew without me being your secret, and then we drink until we get too dizzy to stand. And you remind me of all the buried ads that I haven't heard in years but I can repeat them perfectly. And I know it's too much to ask! I know! But you had me believing I could get there!

“I believe you. I’m listening to you. Look, this is their loss, so come on! We can go without making national news for one day, right? Let’s just put this all behind us and–”

The moment the swatchling interrupted the three’s quarrel was enough to send some decent alarm bells going off in Spamton’s head. He hadn't expected to be interrupted, but he'd take the intrusion as a saving grace from the impulse that buzzed at his fingertips to go back to what he used to know…

There was a catch, though. As there typically was with grace.

The pink hologramed advertisement made him freeze in a panic. He knew those projections from a life he left behind. They’d blocked his own projected mail advertising, as he stood in his makeshift position in cyber city, surrounded by those who were doing the exact same pose, glowing in the exact same way and repeating the exact same dialogue over and over for lightners to be drawn to, or in his case, to be completely ignored.

Those holograms…

What are they doing here?!

And there, right there, was the wrong time.

It was too quick, barely enough time to stifle his breath let alone think of an escape plan, but the eye-strain that was the addisons’ corresponding colors leeched the atmosphere of the already insufficient security it had. He could expose his whereabouts for a couple of TV-era darkners that already didn't care for him, but this group was different. Vastly different. He needed to conceal himself in the dealmaker and hopefully, hopefully Swatch would keep their mouth shut. 

The puppet hadn't processed the glitch that flickered through his form that interrupted the compacting of his coding. His heart beat rapidly, breath caught in his esophagus, as his eyes widened in horror when he could already see the four of them rushing inside–

Suddenly and without warning, Spamton heard a small ‘crack’ and looked down all too late as a series of his own magic projectiles flew at him dead between the eyes. There was panic– coursing, immediate, as he switched to the defense, shielding his face and trying to process who the hell just launched that crummy move. No doubt it was [[Easels]] trying to get him distracted–

…Wait. No. I know that one. That was me.

The clarifying image popped into his head of still being in the Neo body, hovering above his new lightner friends, with his personalized addition into his new vessel being the ability to morph his hands into phones. As his desperation became more and more grandiose, as the strings were being snapped around him to his lack of acknowledgment with his eyes dead set on the [[SOUL]] that could promise him prosperity, well, it seemed it was inevitable he'd get his attacks mixed up. But this time he was in a body he was used to operating, or as used to it as he could ever be, and operating was a loose term too–

That doesn't matter! I did it again?! Really?! Second time’s the charm, ain't that a kick to the back of the knees?! Fucking shit!

Spamton muttered a garbled, censored curse in frustration, several in fact, and rubbed the impacted area of his face with his forearms, keeping his head lowered. Something taller than him nudged him to the side, but he couldn't help but to not care and take a couple off-balance steps back.

That's going to need a healing spell. Sure, why not? Humiliate yourself even further, because your diplomatic meeting with the goddamn holier-than-thou painting program was going just swimmingly. And then–

“So why is he showing his face again, huh? In your cafe? What's his excuse for crawling back here without telling us?” The tone was exasperated and bitter, then turned mocking. “Oh, why not cause a scene to get the word out! Why am I not surprised?”

“Which, like, okay, the fan club got bits and pieces of the story to me. So he attacks you, and Tenna does this to stop everything from spiraling out of control? Then Spam runs away? Just to get the basics down.”

“...It appears to have been a miscommunication.” That was Swatch’s voice, that he was certain of, at least. “Versions of last night’s events must have become exchanged enough to warrant misinformation, because that's not exactly what happened. And it's besides the point. If you would be so kind as to leave until the cafe’s reopening? I was in the middle of resolving a very important issue–”

“This is so typical of him! You just know he's doing this to give us addisons a bad rep here, because otherwise it was so nice of him to tell us he was still here!”

Spamton peeked past his arms, seeing the near-blinding hues of a yellow and pink addison in his proximity, speaking passionately with Swatch in front of them. The pinker one was brighter, radiating with resentment and sarcasm, while the yellow one sounded a bit more curious, but was otherwise expressionless. There was a moment Spamton felt the yellow one glance at him and his heart seized in his chest.

I can't run. I can't do that to Tenna. 

But I need Neo. I need to have another body before facing them! What about my comeback special?! What about amounting to something!? Being worth something?! I can't let them see me like this! Not like the short freak they already see me as, but no it's worse this time! It's worse than they ever could have imagined!

…Would you say I deserved it? You'd say I deserved it. You'd be right.

…

…

But Tenna’s here.

And he's there for me, and I'm there for him.

And I have… a purpose now.

A good purpose. A big purpose.

so what do they matter?

…

They're not real.

I'm not real, this isn't real.

Spamton started to stagger backwards on half-disobeying feet, and lowered his arms in order to pull the collar of his blazer as much as he could over his face. A welling agony of panic and instinct made his code feel like it was tingling with an urge to flee, to get away and he could only identify it as the continuous cycle for postponing his moment until he towered over anyone and everyone around him, his wings creating his own unique darkness. But that body was out, this one was his forever, mistakes had been made and tragic aftermaths of those decisions had already played out. 

There was a thought.

Maybe the comeback special could exist as… this.

Still, what a downgrade.

The thought made him want to hurl. Not out of any willingness to be sick at it, but rather that was just his body’s natural response for over a decade of swerving around alley corners, hauling himself into trash cans last minute, and skittering around addison-populated areas with a bag over his head or a makeshift hood crafted out of curtains shredded by tasque claws. 

What would you think of me now?

Would you think I made it? Ofcourse you wouldn't. You…

You all still think I'm a failure.

…

But he knew what he was now. He was a puppet with an irreversible reminder, he was a trickster and a con, he was a fraud, he was someone who was chosen by something greater, then just as quickly abandoned…

…

But he also was a pair of glasses. He was a friend to a couple of kids who were in for the time of their lives with that prophecy. He was someone granted mercy. He was once an angel. He was an actively harmful thing that got to exist, but with hopes for a good, purposeful role. He was… 

A glance at Tenna, unreturned, as the CRT was occupied with the blue and orange addison most likely hounding him for further details. Spamton didn't need the confirmation to picture it in his mind the longing, convoluted yet wistful way Tenna stared at him not long ago now, while reassuring him that he was…

loved.

I’m loved. A comeback special with Neo would be nice. But if I have to go through this to live my second chance around him then maybe I can just get it over with.

He thinks I am a big deal to him. He told me that. That's an accomplishment if anything! 

And there's only respect in size.

And if I'm big to someone like Tenna…

…That makes it a little easier. I still want to avoid this, but,

“I think I found him.”

It doesn't look like I'll be given that option.

This was a defeat, but also a combined win in its own twisted sense if he thought about it with what he had now and what he made of himself. It still didn't stop the world from growing murky and jumbled, the air sparse and damp as he tried to pull it consciously into his chest. But the snow was thick in his lenses, and shapes moved around in front of his vision, their colors bleeding through the monochrome.

Don't. Say. A damn. Word.

Just remember what he's told you. 

I’m a big deal. 

I’m big.

And there's respect in size.

This isn't a downgrade, it's the opposite of that. Everything I've done, everything I've become… I have a purpose now. More of a purpose than I ever had with them.

They should get to know that, at least. 

“Holy shit.” That was the following voice of the pink addison who must have abandoned his berating of Swatch in order to divert his attention towards the puppet that was still trying to unsuccessfully conceal his face. 

There was a pause, a thick silence where he could practically hear every breath in the vicinity. The colors and shifting formless shapes surrounding him felt eclipsing, and the static was starting to frustrate him as his mind refused to clear. 

“S-spam?” A blue shape took form just in front of him and he tried and failed to focus on it. “Is it really–”

“Something’s off about this. This doesn't feel right.” [[Click 2 Apply]] continued, and seemed to be in disbelief, his shape unmoving where he was. 

“...That's not an addison. But that's obviously him, right? That's obviously him!” The voice of the orange addison followed, and Spamton couldn't even glance in the direction of it, as the amplifying weight and burden on his senses was enough to cause him to rub his temples and lace his fingers through his hair, trying to adhere some sensation to the moment other than the immobilizing one he experienced.

You're damn right I'm not an addison.

Spamton unwillingly let out a bitcrushed snarl under his breath, hating how the increasing static was making the words around him sound pitchy and muffled in the same token, and he clonked himself on his forehead with the ball of his wrists to hopefully dispel the static-

There were exclamations above him as the blue and pink figures were shoved away. The speed at which their colors moved away to make space for the largest figure in the room looked like they'd been pushed aside with recklessness.

“Hey, watch it!”

There was a light in front of him and his eyes narrowed to try and put any focus into Tenna’s face. There was a pressure on his arms, and a distinct circular rubbing motion of a large thumb against his upper arm towards his shoulder. The sensation of the fabric shifting against the plastic of his exterior, to the boxed shape of Tenna’s head coming into focus gave his mind something to work with.

“Hey, c’mon, look at me. Let's get you back, Big Shot. Are you okay? I'm so sorry-!”

My face fucking stings.

“M‘fine, Tens.” Spamton grumbled, keeping his voice low to a near-whisper, the static dissolving seemingly into his voice the more he was attentive to his little assortment of distractions. “Really. S’nothing. You got b3TteR THINGS tO do RIGHT NOW.”

Also don't let your saved reputation open with this as a cover letter! This was the shit I didn't want to happen. 

“And this is one of the better ones, making sure you're okay.” Tenna said as the pink and yellow tint of his mirrored lenses returned, the static a shimmering, receding roadblock that was alleviated with one of the new perks of his partnership. He could see traces of his quaking reflection in the screen above, and the somber smile on Tenna’s face when he came to.

“You really want to go through this?” He asked. “We can leave. I’ll do some talking, butter everyone up in a way where they'll stop asking questions, just say the word.”

I'm done hiding. I said I'm tired. I meant that.

Spamton nodded in response, focusing intently on his words and praying to whoever wasn't listening to him that the glitches stayed to a minimum.

“I want. To do this.”

Tenna looked bewildered by the response, and extremely doubtful, but seemed to get it, and gave a returning, sharp nod, as if to show an unspoken, but very much genuine, respect.

The taller darkner’s grip disappearing off his appendages had Spamton leaning forward on his toes to try and follow them, but he just as quickly caught himself for allowing himself to do that. 

The stares were what came next. Horrible, befuddled stares from each of those estranged ad programs he last spoke to when he was in his new TV-Time suit. Needless to say that it was farther away than he expected, and he'd seen this reflected in each one of their faces. As if they believed what they were seeing, but they couldn't accept it. 

At the time of his very first phone call, he'd assumed his benefactor had made a mistake reaching out to him of all the addisons, and the thought was one to resurface too during his last phone call, right before the incident. However, seeing the petrified and dumb faces of the addison group right here right now, that was enough to make him feel certain that-

Nah. There was no mistake.

This wad of ad clutter wouldn't last ten seconds aware of there being strings attached. Much less in a garbage bin. They'd probably complain about getting leaf litter in their teeth or that laying their heads down on trash bags streaked with oil and sludge would damage their complexion or something.

I’ve found out that it works wonders! I mean look at me, I don't look a day over fourty-five!

“Well, you all sure barged in at a Tricky time,” Tenna stood, facing the addisons, and it appeared as though he glanced at Swatch for a short beat, his brow furrowing. “Spamton and I were just about to–”

“So it is him!” The addisons all chimed together in varying tones and before Tenna could seemingly think of how to react, he was shoved aside by the addisons rushing and crowding around Spamton. The puppet’s heart was pulled into his chest and his mind seemed to short circuit as he was encircled by a bunch of too-bright, too-emotional ad programs. His eyes were wide at the unexpected nature of how quickly the space around him was occupied.

They instantly all started speaking nearly at once, babbling over eachother and cutting eachother off, oblivious with how they were making a mishmash of a conversation with the outpouring of their words. Spamton had let out a glitchy yelp as he was snagged by the back of his jacket by one of them, and his head whipped around as much as it could to see the orange one had pulled it away from his neck and was checking the tag.

“I knew it!” He'd started off. “This was the one I sold Tenna yesterday! The fact that you were there and didn't tell me?! You did hear everything we said! And that shirt too! That shirt’s mine! I haven't even checked inventory yet and I know that–”

“We thought something horrible happened to you-!” [[Enter Survey Response]] had got to their knees beside him and wrapped their arm around the front of him to hold his head close. Instinctively, Spamton tried leaning away as much as he could to no avail. “And then the lightners! The trash zone, Spam?! Why the trash zone–?!”

“We thought you turned to stone, or were trapped when the fountain closed–” [[Web Banners]] said from behind him and something he was holding over his arm graced the side of his face- The jacket. Of course he’d leave his fucking jacket behind as some sort of lead–

“But you weren't there, nothing was there! Your shop was gone and you were too–”

“You better have a damn good explanation of where you disappeared off to!” [[Click2Purchase]] spoke in a rushed, angry tone, but with how his brow was pinched, it looked like he was relieved with this revelation too, despite his words. “You had these three worried sick! And I had to put up with it because of–”

“We didn't really talk about it, and about you,” [[Sponsored Deals]] said from his opposite side, and Spamton felt they were gripping his upper arm. “But after searching for you and finding nothing-”

“And why do you look like that? I mean, like, your light’s out! and you're all–” The pink addison’s distress seemed to be building and he'd taken one of Spamton’s hands in his own from where he kneeled in front of him. “Segmented. D-did you get an upgrade? Please don't say you got an upgrade.”

“Is this like a resurfaced marketing trend? Like from before we were around? Or something you're trying out now?” [Banner ad] asked, as if trying to wrap his head around that being a possibility.

“I think you look great…!” [Sponsored.By] forced out, their golden glow near painful to look at in Spamton’s peripheral vision. “Hey, we should have expected you would do anything after you dyed your hair! But this is a little bit more extreme! You-”

Don't bring up how I dyed my hair! 

“You look like one of Banner’s mannequins,” The blue addison’s tone was hesitant and Spamton felt their grip on his face grow tighter. “It's a good gimmick! And it makes you stand out, just like you always used to talk about! But now that you're back, you don't need to look like that any longer around us–!”

[[Click Here]] leaned in closer, still looking at Spamton's hand. “It doesn't explain where you went, though! What, did you go gallivanting off to your cushy TV job? Or were you just hiding out there? Why does Tenna know you're still around but not us?!” He turned and spoke over his shoulder up at Tenna. “No offense, I hope this doesn't impact our upcoming deal–”

“Yeah, why didn't you come get us?!” [Banner Designer] asked, and was crinkling the fabric on the back of his blazer in his shaking grip. “We didn't mean everything we said at the Grille! We take it all back!”

“Banner’s right, Spam!” [From our Sponsors] blurted out. “You had that fancy phone call, we were just a little upset! We didn't want you to run away–”

It was all too much. Way too much. He felt restricted and bombarded, being tugged and questioned in every direction an addison was, and there was no space to get a solid word or even a breath in. Everywhere he looked had a different advertising darkner, another reminder of his predicament, another reminder of their treachery and abandonment. 

And they think they can make up for it now?!

You wouldn't take anything back if you knew what I went through! You're just saying that! You'd say I deserved it!

He ripped his hand away from the pink addison and quickly extended his hands to his sides towards the two beside him. He felt one of his hands press against one of their faces and the other was on the other’s neck, before he pushed both away from him with as much force as he could muster.

The blue and yellow programs gasped in surprise, but he was already taking staggering steps back after ferociously wriggling out of his blazer secured by the orange one, who had let go when one arm was free, letting the blazer hang halfway on Spamton’s shoulders. His heartbeat was a merciless drum. If he wasn't careful, it'd make him sick before it caused him to keel over from the increased rate of thrumming at the cavity of his chest. 

What the fuck is wrong with you all?! I get addisons don't have boundaries, but I swear by everything holy–

He was going to gun it, he couldn't take this. This wasn't what he signed up for, he had nothing to do with this.

No. No, please. Don't run. Don't do that.

…Why are they doing this to me? Giving me false hope?

They sound like they missed me again. They sound like they did in their dumb shop!

“Oh shit, Spam! We're so sorry!” [[Site Banners]] exclaimed, and gestured out to him, that damned forgotten blazer, a sign that led them here, swaying on his arm. “We didn't mean to freak you out, we just got so excited to talk with you again-!”

“Well that's the thing, he hasn't been talking,” [ClickLinkBelow] said in an almost mumble. “Probably couldn't get a word in around all of us. Ain't that right, Spam?”

They're going to know how broken you are.

Spamton looked down and clenched his fists at his sides before glancing up at Tenna, who looked mere seconds away from intervening, his antennas wilted over his face and looking at him with genuine worry and concern. They all were, but his flavor was different. There was a defensiveness, and an understanding. Spamton couldn't exactly say he couldn't use that right about now. But no, he wanted to do this himself, he got himself into this mess, he could drag himself out.

They miss you, but they quickly won't when you start to speak. 

…

…

“Why aren't you saying anything?” [Survey Polls] appeared nervous, wringing their hands, with the orange addison following with a question of his own seconds later.

“Can you talk?”

Don't make me. Don't make me, please.

I have to say something.

He nodded once then rubbed his wrist with the opposite hand, his thumb lining the jointed separation between his hand and forearm. The last time he'd said anything to them was…

...

‘So admit it! Admit this whole invite was just an excuse to advertise one of your stupid cars and make us look less than you! What, now because you're on top of the world and can buy and sell us, you just will?! What, you got more ads up your sleeve?’

‘Yeah, what the hell, Spam?! First you show up in that gaudy suit but the commercial?! Really? Was that necessary?!’

‘That was really low, I don't think we should be here anymore after that. Like do you expect us to just take that lying down?'

'I’m sorry, I'm going to leave. This power display is just... it's so unlike you.’

'It's not like that at all! It just… slipped out! Look, okay, maybe I’ve been a little overworked! The TV Time gig, it's huge! I didn't really mean it, why would I ever s-say something like that while meaning it? C'mon guys...!’

‘No, the real question is why would you even invite us here in the first place when your gimmick is that you're just gonna make us feel smaller than you? Which is pretty fucking ironic.'

'You can't backtrack on this, big shot. We’re leaving.’

‘...F-fine! You wanna leave? Then leave! I don't need any of you obviously! It's not like you're even proud of what I've done, so beat it! Scram! You think you c-could have continued to keep me at the bottom forever?! Walk all over me?! I didn't even want to stay in this role you all have because it's too small for me, so I don't need to be held back by those who don't know what I can really do! You'll all find out pretty d-damn quickly there's respect in size and you'll have no choice but to give me that respect!'

…

…

Spamton took a deep breath in and sighed, trailing his hand down his forehead to pinch the bridge of his nose. After a few more seconds of silence and attempting to ground himself, his hand hovered in front of his mouth like in the memory of his last monologue with the advertisers who hadn't stayed...

'You talk big, but remember what goes up, must come down. Good luck, Spamton.' 

Oh, this was going to hurt much more than any one of his attacks ever could.

“...I CAN TALK.” He swallowed roughly and grimaced as he forced himself to continue. "JEEZ, I KN;0w YOU GUYS THINK I CAN't d0 ANYTHING. DIDN'T THINK YOU'D [[Continued Trends]] WITH UNDERESt1MaT;ING  ME AT [[making small talk]], TOO.”

The multicolored programs were dead quiet, and he could already see their faces in his head even while being unable to meet their eyes.

“...What's wrong with him?” [[Survey-Responses]] bluntly asked, most likely to Tenna, and he could hear not scorn, but rather worry in their voice.

“Did you catch a virus–?!” [[Web Banners]] carried on the rising panic.

“I DID, ACTUALLY.” Spamton crossed his arms, leaning back on his heels, choosing to answer that question than the one before it with more snark this time. “RECENTLY DROPPED TOO. IT’S CALLED BEING [[Allergic to]] TO FAKE [traders]. UNIQUE TO ME. DON'T WORRY YOUR [Crooked heads] ABOUT IT, THOUGH. IT'S NOT [Contaegis].”

“...Traders?”

“WRONG WORD, [Bucko]. TRAITORS. WITH A 'T'." Spamton clarified, his voice dripping with loathing and resentment, his smile pulled way too tight on his face. “NOW, DOWN TO THIS [[Playbill]] RUSE. YOU DON’T GET TO [We’re Sorry We Missed You] ME AFTER YOU ALL VOLUNTARILY tuR;>n3D YOUR BACKS ON [[Guest Celebrity Appearances! Featuring the Big Shot himself: Sp4mt;>      ]]–”

His rant was cut off by a glitch and he could have died right then and there and wouldn't have felt a thing.

“Ooh… That's a bad one.” [[Video’s Sponsored by]] audibly winced. “That's a really bad one.”

“It has you saying your own ads too?” [Survey Data] meekly asked.

“Spam, we need to get you checked out,” [Banner ad] seemed to already be searching for makeshift solutions. “You don't sound right, and there's ambyu-lances with anti virus–”

Not this again.

Wouldn't you think I'd already be back to the way I was if that worked?!

Twice in one day with his attributes being put in the spotlight was bad enough, but here? Right now?! Was that the most important thing to the collection of advertisements was how he looked and sounded? Sure, it must have been jarring, it always was, but wasn't there more unbelievable things here for them to witness when it came to him? 

…Unbelievable to them, anyhow. Probably even more unbelievable than a puppet transformation with a vocal glitch would ever be. 

Something completely out of their scope of belief. 

Cut to the chase.

“Wait a second. Your own ads. That ad in the grille, the night when we last saw y–”

“I DID IT. I [proofed] YOU ALL WRONG.” Spamton started, extending his arms out in front of him, his fingers curled. “I DID IT!”

“D-did what?” The yellow one asked, surprised with the tone shift.

“I HAVE [purpose]! EAHAHA! GUESS WHAT?! OH YOU’RE GOING TO THINK THIS IS [[Get Rich quick scheme]], BUT JUST WAIT UNTIL I [knock your socks off] WITH EVERYTHING I'VE DONE!” Spamton spoke quickly, and his head glitched in a haze as he advanced again at the addisons. “I DID IT ALL ON MY [0wn Account], WITHOUT ANY [Handouts] THIS TIME–”

“W-wait, Spam! What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, your speech, you're not making any sense. Slow down." [Polling Data] gestured at him by fanning their hands down.

“THE. LIGHTNERS.” Spamton took a moment to chuckle behind closed teeth. “THEY GAVE ME AN [[olive branch]]. I’M [Recruited] INTO THEIR [[Going out of business sale on PArty favors]]– INTO. THEIR PARTY.”

“Is that where you've been–?!” The pink program looked beside himself.

“LATELY.” He forced out. A pause followed, but he recovered before anyone could get a word in. 

“BUT WHAT LET ME GET RECRUITED WAS [A show you didn't want to miss].   BUT YOU DID. YOU [heavy Mist] MY [[Grand debut]]. YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN ME. I WAS [Angel]! I WAS [3 stories high] ON THAT [Smooth taste going down]! BUT THEN I COULDN’T… KEEP IT GOING.” Spamton looked down, balling his fists. “BUT I GOT LIKE THAT WITH MY OWN [[blueprint plan]]."

“Spam, we-”

“IN FACT, JUST GET IT ALL OUT OF YOUR [system logs]! I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU ALL WANT TO SAY. SO SAY IT! GO AHEAD. SOMETHING LIKE ‘FINALLY, [[You Little Freak!]]. A [Facial Operations] THAT FITS YOU JUST RIGHT!!’      OR      ‘Gg;U3sS yOU CAN SAY ALL THE [Commercial Slots] YOU WANT NOW!!’” Spamton paced in a circle, throwing his hands up as he rambled, air quoting with his fingers when he could. “AND DON’T FORGET       ‘YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT [[Drafting them up]] IF THEY ALL JUST COME [All natur~al, baby!], dO YOU, [Big shot]?’!!”

Spamton started cackling between his words, and with the laughter came the returning crackling of his code as he glitched in brief bursts between his rant.

“What? No, Spam–” [[Sponsorship]] tried to butt in, his yellow hue lighting up in anxiety. “We’d never say those things to you–”

“DON’T LIE.    SAY. IT. TO. MY. FAcE.    I KNOW YOU WANT TO.       WHAT ABOUT   ‘WITH THE [ads] NOT BEING oUT YOUR OWN [voice], FINALLY YOU [could have a thin margin of] BACK OF SUCCESS!’ ISN’T THAT RIGHT? RIGHT?! BECAUSE YOU’RE WRONG. IT USED TO BE LIKE THAT! BUT [[nowadays]] IT’S NOT! MY [wires] ARE CUT AND I [did it before the deadlien] AND IF YOUD JUST SEEN ME WHEN I WAS [[large and in charge]], YOU’D BE… y-you’d bE…”

You'd be proud of me. What I can accomplish without my strings. What I can accomplish without being one of you. You'd think I was worth something.

Spamton realized something was off about his face. Lightly skimming his fingers across his cheek, just underneath his glasses, he realized the edge of his fingertips came back wet, streaked with tears.

Not on my watch! Not around them! Maybe they didn't notice. If I didn't notice, then they didn't.

Appalled and disgusted with himself, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand in as nonchalant a way as he could have thought of. He still hadn't looked a single one of them in the eyes, and felt hollow just wallowing in the dialogue he'd presented that these dumb salesmen weren't repeating for some reason. Maybe he just spoiled the script for all of them, or they were genuinely caught off guard because he guessed exactly what they were going to say and that's why they were so quiet.

“...B-BUT WAIT [there's more]! I HAVE A [council of testifying] THAT WILL GLADLY [Claim this Free Voucher]!” Spamton darted over to Tenna, and before the CRT could make a guess as to what he wanted out of this, the puppet clung to the fabric of his pant legs and hauled himself up, scaling up his partner quickly. 

He had to say, the grip of his shoes sure made climbing fabric-covered surfaces a lot easier than going at it barefoot, as he could rarely climb the escape rope he'd made out of color cafe banners during one of his mansion invasions without slipping. Maybe the one thing he needed to acquire Neo faster would have been shoes.

Tenna looked startled at his abruptness and consequently increased in height a couple feet in response, his hands raising to try and support the quickly climbing puppet, but Spamton was faster, and hauled himself onto Tenna’s shoulder, planting himself down to be sitting on the corner of his head, just slightly out of breath from it all. He'd tapped one heel on the side metal of the large TV as the other dangled just off-center in front of his screen. Spamton then lightly slapped the space between his antennas with the palm of his hand in confidence.

“GO FOR IT, [Cathode]! TELL THEM HOW [great and unforgettable]    THAT [Unfamiliar Face From TV] IS.”

“Hey! Maybe give me a warning next time before you pull a stunt like that?” Tenna tilted his head as much in Spamton’s direction as he could without disturbing the smaller darkner, which wasn't a lot at all. “We could work on a signal for when you want up?”

“TAKE A CHILL [Pill included with your Prescription], [Silver Screen]. I'M JUST FINALLY GETTING MY [[Skyscraper Clearance]]. I TOLD YOU I'D DO IT EVENTUALLY.” Spamton fiddled with one of his antennas absentmindedly. “ALSO I PANICKED. RAN OUT OF IDEAS. APPRECIATE THE [extra inches], THOUGH. HELPS MY POINT. LOOK AT YOU [thinking ahead]!”

“Pfft–” Tenna's irritation with him broke in a snicker as he lightly pushed the puppet’s heel out of his face with the back of his finger. “Even if I had meant to do that, you'd still get a kick out of it, huh? You're lucky to have me.”

“YOU HAVE [No refunds] IDEA.” Spamton cheekily returned the grin, grateful that the CRT wasn't too upset.

“So you really used to dye your hair?”

Spamton's smile fell just as quick as it appeared, and Tenna must have suspected it did with his lack of response.

“What? I get to be a little curious. You never talked about your life as one of these guys…!”

To you. I only talked to one other darkner. But if you would have known... There's a reason why I didn't talk about it. I couldn't risk the slight chance you'd figure it all out before you died.

Speaking of, I'm going to kill these addisons for letting that little detail slip. No, that'd be too merciful. I'm going to get every single darkner on this side of the fountain to buy an adblocker even if they don't know what it is.

“BUT NOW?”

“Okay, okay, fine, later then.” Tenna seemed to pout and crossed his arms, the subtle shift causing Spamton to latch his fingers around the casing of Tenna’s head under him so that he wouldn't slide off. The CRT’s next words were spoken under his breath, low enough to hopefully register just between the two. “But I want to know eventually. It's not so bad…! It's cute. Even if I think the black suits you, don't get me wrong.”

Cute.

Why do I not mind that? Oh [[Heaven]] why do I not mind that?!

Okay, drop it. You have a group of traitors to talk down to!

…He called me cute. How dare he?! He's the cute one, if anything! I’ll show him cute. Don't distract me, Tenna!

Spamton returned his attention back to the addisons, in an attempt to shrug that statement off before his mind could render him actually distracted, his breath becoming shallow as they all looked up at him now, with mixed expressions of regret and concern. Surely if he was in his ideal form, this would have been his point of view as well, except he'd be the one with the height and mass to him. He was thankful that wasn't the case now, actually, as he really didn't want to be alone for this.

“AND SEE!! TO [Top it off], ME AND THIS [[Cinematic Masterpiece]] ARE IN [Cahoots] AGAIN! SO YEAH! I’M LIVIN’ THAT [high life], DESPITE EVERYTHING YOU WANT TO SAY TO ME. SO MAKE IT [snapping], WE DON’T HAVE ALL DAY.”

“We weren't going to say any of that stuff to you! Who do you think we are?!” The pink addison looked ticked, and pointed up at Spamton angrily. 

“Was that really the reason why you didn't find us?” The blue one followed up. “Because you think we'd just criticize and ridicule you? Rub it in your face?”

“WELL. YEAH.” Spamton cleared his throat and leaned forward, just enough so he wouldn't topple off his perch. “THAT’S ALL YOU EVER DID?”

“Spam, we were shocked to find you lost everything…! I even went to see if you were okay and bring you back with me! After that, we just shut down. Everything changed. Then the mansion staff started covering everything up, like your posters and your products. There was nothing we could do, so we didn't do anything.”

Bring me back with them?

Spamton’s brow raised as he was stunned by the statement. After all, those nosy nancies would come to infiltrate what remained of his mansion room to pick up what scraps of success and blinding luck was left behind, which included the gossip and firsthand witness accounts of what remained of his living space, but…

Everything was too fresh, everything was too sudden, it was collapsing faster than I could slow it down…! And they took time to want to bring me back with them?

I… wouldn't have gone. I had Neo to get. 

“You could have asked about him! You know, staged a couple interviews with anyone from the mansion? Anything?!” Tenna’s tone sounded frustrated if anything, more defeated now as his voice cracked, as he most likely knew the answer the addisons couldn't account for.

Neo.

Spamton almost felt bad for the CRT, as he heard it in his voice that he probably knew he wasn't going to get any explanation that wasn't closer to the actual reason, being the drive for Neo catapulting everything into disarray. The pure gravity of his partner’s past insanity was probably hitting him with more reminders by the minute.

“We didn't know what he was involved in, and no one would tell us,” [[Survey Polls]] looked fearful, and held a hand over their mouth. “Eventually when everyone stops talking about him, it's just easier to go along with it all, especially when we don't know who helped him get to where he was in the first place.”

“Did you ask them?! They knew the whole time! Perfect source of information if you ask me!” Tenna pointed viciously down at Swatch, who'd been silently observing, and Spamton just now noticed their once enraged demeanor was completely gone, replaced by them standing with their hands square behind their back. The attempt of composure was back on display, but something was clearly wrong.

That wasn't the conditioned hateful Swatch he'd come to know after ten years. The cracks in an unbreakable front were showing in glimpsing tells about the bird-like darkner, from the crinkle of their brow to how their shoulders slumped just enough to be noticeable. It was similar to how they'd hold themself when Spamton let his worries be transparent as he hunched over the color cafe bar, drunken sweat and tears streaking his hands, nose and the rim of his glass. It was a look that gave away there was a customer in distress, and they'd need to offer the best hospitality a mansion staff member could offer.

Except the mansion was gone, their position eradicated, but their mannerisms still lingered as if a switch had been flipped for the first time in a long time… and Spamton wondered if his pitch had worked. The tragedy of the situation was bringing itself out to center stage, even if he was still fully to blame for it.

“You knew?!” The addisons all shouted in unison and turned towards the former butler, who'd tensed, but that was the only notable reaction from them.

“I did,” They eventually responded, matter-of-factly. “The decision to keep it unsaid was complicated.”

“But you didn't tell us?! He was–” [[Site Banners]] glanced up at Spamton and seemed to wince at the blunder. “He is an addison just like the rest of us-! We should have known first.”

I'm not like you. I'll never be like you. 

“I took into account a variety of factors at first. But how he'd spoken of you to me when he lived in the mansion was one of them. At first, I thought hiding his existence was asinine, not to mention just cruel enough to address. However, with it all said and done, I was just doing what I had to do. For the betterment of cyber civilians.” Swatch’s feathers bristled and they sighed off their obviously gathering nerves. “In the moment, I believed it would only benefit those involved, including myself, to forget.”

So you were listening to me. When I told you about them, when I confessed how I didn't belong with them, you listened.

…

The addisons looked devastated in that last point, as they most likely shared the same approach. Forgetting would be easier to these simple darkners, but he didn't have that luxury. 

Every time he curled up in his makeshift shelter for the night, hoping the dumpster of choice wouldn't have locked him inside by morning, their faces and names drummed in his mind, and each passing voice on the outside stirring him from sleep would be a reminder. Names that sounded clearer as Spamton accounted for each one of their faces below him. How each one of their advertising gigs dwarfed his emails in every shape and form, how they were despised by lightners, but not ignored. But yet he remained, just in spaces where no one would go looking willingly.

His revulsion at being an addison, at being one of these meager one-of-many programs, a chilling reminder of his permanent place, and vocalizing it to the only one who knew his plans after his eviction, then gunning for a solution steeped in divinity but also in trial and error and a world of hurt…

These were things coming between him and his eventual rediscovery. Factors that played a key role in keeping him hidden all this time and extending the deadline for his resurgence as Neo.

He couldn't help but be just grateful enough Swatch respected that about him, either intentional or not. That they'd stayed silent regardless of whether or not they cared about his wellbeing. 

You listened to me. 

“Spam, did you think we hated you that much?” [Sponsor] piped up, their yellow hue dimmed with Swatch’s explanation. 

He hesitated, and with his smile slowly falling, nodded.

“So you just…?! Kept silent?! What the hell, man?!” The orange addison was turned towards Swatch and raised his voice. “You knew we were looking for him! Why did it matter what he told you?!”

“It wasn't my business. I was simply listening to one of my paying customers. What he told me stayed confidential. I dislike him, extremely, for everything he's done, but I have my own way of handling what patrons disclose to me personally. I believed Spamton’s was rather poignant.” Swatch and Spamton shared a look, and for the first time in a very, very long time, the puppet could see a tinge of remorse in their eyes. It was like it had been excavated from a deep burial of disgust, like an ancient fossil of the time before his mind rotted away in his head. 

For a brief second, Spamton thought it was a mistake. But from someone who had a perfected skill of not letting their demeanor slip, Swatch’s dejection was unmistakable. It wasn't long lasting as the pink addison voiced his anger.

“You mansion pricks! Thinking you're above all of us! What gave you the power to choose what information you did or didn't talk about?! This situation is clearly different! Are you hearing him? That's the worst virus I’ve heard in my life!”

“Did you think we never wanted you to come back home?” [[Polling Data]]’s voice trembled as their hair draped over their face. “Were we that awful?”

“...I WASN’T COMING BACK UNTIL I [Made this with my own two hands] S;0m3TH1N>G    OF MYS3lF. ON MY OWN. IT WASN’T ALL YOU. I NEEDED TO [Put in the hours] UNTIL I WAS [Bigger and Better]... AND NOW I AM.”

“So you had a part in it, too. You hid yourself away just ‘cuz why? Because we knew you failed?” [[Clicks]] countered, hearing that and turning his attention off of Swatch.

“I DIDN’T!” Spamton scooted off of Tenna’s head and stood on his shoulder defensively. His balance was rocky as a glitch distorted the features of his face, nearly locking his jaw out of its spot. “...I DIDN’T fail. I dIDN’T. I KNOW YOU [thinking] I [Failed! Please try again].”

“Spamt–”

“BUT I DIDN’T!!1!! I WON." Spamton cut off Tenna with a shout that made him tense beneath him. "SURE, MY [false prophets] TANKED AND I WAS LEFT [Flat broke] FOR A LITTLE BIT!! BUT I DIDN’T FAIL. I’M NOT THE [built to fail] PROGRAM YOU KNEW AND YOU ALL HAVE TO [transaction accepted] THAT NOW. YOU ALL DOUBTED ME, BUT NOW YOU’RE [so small I can't even see] YOU! I won! I'm worth enouGH TO BE [Save on the Top Items]! And yOU [[$Cash$]]HOLES GET TO SEE IT WITH YOUR OWN [Dear god my eyes are burning!] LIKE NEVER BEFORE. [Except] I’M STILL AROUND! ACCEPT THAT YOU CAN’T GET R;iD 0F m>E–”

Another glitch interrupted him, but with that one, he felt a much larger hand grasping his own, centering him and affixing him to the sensation. Tenna squeezed his palm between his thumb and forefinger, and the slight pressure was enough to get him to stop and rethink his approach here. He sounded manic, with a rising tone of voice. He would have taken a step back to reevaluate, but doing so would have him plummet a good sixteen feet down to the cafe's floor. 

Tenna's gentle caress was enough to spare him the option to cut his rant short, and he couldn't help but feel the fuzziness in his head from the mounting anger slowly ebb away. His volume couldn't have been forgiving right next to Tenna's hearing, so Spamton felt a smidge of guilt with that also.

“He's right, he's been doing better.” Nevertheless, Tenna supported him, and talked down to the addisons. “He's really trying, after being thrown out, and who he is now is someone to be proud of. I’m one fortunate TV to have met him again, even if I was upset about him leaving me in the dark too, and all the secrets that have been kept. He still ended up helping me in more ways than I imagined.”

That made a smile return to the puppet’s face, shared only a couple seconds later by his partner who turned his head slightly up in his direction, as if to send him a nonverbal note of ‘and don't you forget it.’

Thanks, Tenna. 

“That explains why you talked about him the way you did in Banner’s store…” [[Survey]] said, but it seemed Swatch’s silence was enough to cause some irreversible damage with how the four held themselves. He needed to do a better job of explaining, even if they were slowly getting it.

“...ALRIGHT, [Ray tubes]. BRING ME [[downtown]]. I’M GONNA TALK TO THESE [[Advertisements only $9.99]] ONE ON [1 in 5 chance].”

“Okay, but if it gets too much for you, you let me know.” Tenna reached up behind him and pinched the back of Spamton’s blazer before lifting the little salesman off his shoulder. The unbuttoned jacket just barely slipping got Spamton to flail his arms outward and latch onto Tenna’s sleeve with all his might.

“Oh come on, mailman. As if I'd let you fall.” Tenna let out an amused chuckle, but Spamton hadn't relaxed his grip until Tenna had crouched and his feet were on the floor of the cafe. He should have clarified the scruff of his blazer was off limits, but seeing Tenna take such delight in being at his side, Spamton decided to let it go– just this once.

He brushed down his blazer and looked up at the salesmen of various hues in front of him, then opened his mouth to speak–

“Spam, what Tenna said, about you doing better,” [Banner] cut him off, an attempted divergence away from recalling events at his shop. “We want to be there for it too. We can't even imagine what you've been through-”

“And we get why you hate us,” The yellow addison interjected. “Knowing everything we said about you, and to you, well, I'd hate us too. We should have been happy for you for when you made it big after all-”

"Truth be told, we were all a little jealous."

[[Survey]] nodded and folded their hands over each other repeatedly. “But with what you said earlier, about being a failure? I hope you don't think we still think that…! We didn't want to get rid of you-”

“Yeah, despite it all. Like that's a real scummy thing to say.” [Clicks] scoffed. “Do you have any idea how much we missed you, you little bastard?”

“Ignore him, Spam. He's just a bit ticked that he had to usher all his customers out of his tea shop when Sponsor let us know you were spotted last night. Tied with the jacket I found on the floor of my shop yesterday–”

“It's been draining! I could barely come up with another popup ad if I tried-”

“Back on topic-” [[Survey]] pressed, their face in a slight scowl at their fellow bickering programs. “We've had so much time to reflect on how we treated you. And we can try to help you with whatever this new stuff is too. If you were there yesterday and did get to hear what I said… I meant it. I meant every word. We’re sorry. We really didn't know this would happen to you–”

“You also said something about being recruited by the lightners?” [Sponsor] snapped their fingers in realization. “So that's why they let us know where you were staying–”

“Sponsor, please, I'm trying to make a heartfelt apology here.”

“Sorry, haha, just this is a lot of information at once. I just wanted to hear about it, like that's exciting! Don't tell me you're not curious, too-”

“...IS THIS A [[Tips and Tricks to]]- A DUMB [Pronk]? A T;  t>r– [Advertising scams]?”

All four of them stopped talking abruptly then balked at him with mixed reactions of surprise and uneasiness.

“I M;m3AN, EAHEAHEA, BEING [[Exciting rollercoaster extravaganza]] ABOUT WHAT I’M DOING WITH MY LIFE?? MISSING ME?  ?     SAYING [Sorry! Now up to four players]? THIS HAS TO BE SOME SORT OF [[Comedie Routines]] AND I’M THE [Punched] LINE. OR DO YOU JUST SEE A [[Charidy Case]] YOU CAN DIP YOUR [grubby hands] IN?”

“You… you don't believe us, do you?”

Spamton paused.

...You don't believe them. 

…

You're a god damn hypocrite.

…Look at them.

Each one of them was looking at him with a varying display of sympathy and regret, making his heart sink into his midsection. They appeared genuine enough, but it still didn't make much sense. 

Maybe… despite the representation they'd had in his head all these years later, this image of their dismissal of him... would it really be so crazy if they just wanted to see him again? If their snobby too-chalked-full-of-bullshit fakery was just a front for something buried below the surface?

“...I DIDN’T [Make Planning easy] FOR THIS. I DIDN’T [Expect the unexpected] YOU’D WANT TO KEEP [[the final product]]-”

After all, I'm not like you anymore. I can barely believe Tenna wants anything to do with me after all I've done! Much less… like me to the level he… does.

…

Has everyone gone insane?! Am I the only rational one in this damn place?! Throw the spam away, that's the mantra! Tenna doesn't know that, but these guys certainly do!

“BUT I’M NO [[We are addisons! All we do is advertise!]] ANYMORE. ISN’T THAT J;u$T    >thE: WORST?” Spamton couldn't help but hiss that out in a bite of sarcasm. “I KNOW YOU ROOTED FOR THE DAY MY [Stocks runneth dry]. SO I DON’T GET IT.”

“M-maybe we did, okay, no we for sure did. But we're different now!" [Banner] tried to defend the group. "That doesn't matter anymore! We get to see you! Like you have no idea how much that means to us.”

“Also just to know what kind of trouble you've gotten yourself into since everything… happened–” The pink addison’s face pinched in discomfort and Spamton noticed he'd been looking away from him ever since the his last comment, most likely connecting the fact that his vocal intrusion was a recapture of his own long-gone addison advertising.

“Maybe we can all meet up sometime and catch up? I'm thinking either Clicks’s tea shop or even here when it's not so…” [[Sponsor]] kicked a spare piece of debris with their foot. “...crumbly.”

“That's actually one of the things we're here for! Glad to see it brought up!” Tenna said from behind him, and Spamton looked over his shoulder to see he was talking mockingly behind his hand while glaring at Swatch accusingly, his screen flickering with static. “Because somebody around here can't handle letting go of past grudges, now can they? Nope! No no no, that's apparently not how it works with those just wanting another Take around here.”

Swatch narrowed their eyes, but otherwise didn't look at him, instead visibly taking a centered deep breath in and out.

“I misjudged the situation.”

What?

“What?” Tenna asked, unintentionally echoing Spamton’s confusion as he tugged at the collar of his shirt. “I didn't expect that to work, folks, I mean- uhm- Good!” He huffed down at Swatch, with his lips pressed in a thin from, then motioned to Spamton with both hands outstretched. “But I don't need to hear it! Guess who does? The salesmen seem to get it just fine!”

Spamton felt his spirits be uplifted by Tenna’s more defensive side and stood a little taller. He knew what he was trying to do, even if there was no chance in [Heaven] he was actually going to get an apology from the Swatch–

“I thought with enough force and silence our quarrel would have the chance to end. That you'd give up one day, find some finality, wake up and realize what you'd done, and that the problem would just disappear. Never in my mind would I think the opposite would be the case. Until… now.” [Easels] stated, looking at Spamton. “It's been ages since I've seen you like this. I believed I’d never get to again. It reminds me of a regular patron that'd visit for conversation rather than to steal my work.”

...Well I'll be damned.

“I DIDN’T WANT TO [[Choking Hazard! Not suitable for ages 5 and below]]– FFF[&$%#]. [Suffocating? Try       ]- STRANGLE. YOu. DIDN’T WANT TO DO THAT. NOT ON THE [worksheet].” Spamton snickered in lieu of the ads. “OKAY. MAYBE i DID. A LITTLE. MAYBE I HAVE FOR YEARS, BUT YOU [wuldn’t] KNOW. BUT YOU [Desurved] IT.”

Tenna held his hands out upturned in front of him and his teeth were clenched tight. The unspoken communication was on fire today, this one could beam the message ‘What the hell are you saying?! Don't you see how close we are to getting out of this?!’ into his mind if it was possible.

Hey, I'm just lucky he hasn't turned on subtitles yet. He can't hide that as well as he thinks he can.

“I had my reasons. I was still infuriated about Neo. Am still infuriated… about Neo. I was convinced you'd never change.” 

“THAT’S OBVIOUS, CHUCKLE[&$%#].”

“But you're truly over obtaining it. It's really gone. And you're done.”

“SORRY TO [disappoint], BUT… YUP. THAT [[prize in the sky]] IS [Toasted]. I’M DOne. FOR GOOD. THAT [[Heavenly Work of Art]] IS BEHIND ME. I KNOW YOU DON’T [Belief] ME.” Spamton’s smile crumpled as he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

“...YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE. TO HAVE THE LAST [decadium] BE A NEVERENDING [Bad luck spiral]. ALL THAT [broken joints], EVERYONE [fleeing the coop] ON YOU, ALL THE [[Corrosions]] AND [Contortions], AND HAVE IT MEAN NOTHING AT THE [end of the shift].” Spamton turned away from Swatch and tapped his foot, his shoulders falling slack in defeat.

Some of us down here are just worse off than others, and that's how it's going to be. You'd do anything to get out of it if you were in my spot.

“AT LEAST I GOT TO [[Experience it in HD]] JUST ONCE. BUT APPARENTLY [ounce] WAS ALL IT TOOK TO BECOME AN IRREDEEMABLE [monsterous portions at this location only] TO YOU FOREVER. CRAZY HOW THAT WORKS, RIGHT? I'M NOT ASKING FOR YOUR [%#&$]ING [Pit stop]–      PITY. I DON'T WANT IT. WHAT I WANT IS 4 YOU TO JUST...! Listen.”

There was a pause that loomed overhead, and the tension in the room heightened with that familiar uncertainty. The first thing to break it was a whisper of “The fuck is Neo?” from one of the addisons, and a responding whisper from Tenna being “From what I got? Swatch’s art project. Don't worry about it.” with following varying “Ohhh”’s of feigned understanding.

Then footsteps nearing his location, and Spamton looked up just in time to see Swatch’s shadow looming over him before they extended their hand in his direction. 

“Alright, Spamton. I'll listen. As long as you maintain this reformed agreement of yours. Show me you've changed. No trickery, schemes, robberies, violence, or anything of the like. No spam infestations, no mistreatment of other darkners. In return, this incident becomes a thing of the past, and…” Swatch’s brow crinkled in contempt, but they seemed to collect themself even if they were notably struggling with what they were going to say next. “I will do my best to put Neo behind me along with you. You're on very thin ice, but I'm… willing to understand you. If just to have a chance of this never happening again.”

…Did that actually work?

“...THAT’S IT? JUST THOSE [[One or Two]] HANG UPS? [Piece of Cake].”

“One or two? That's all you've been doing for nearly ten y–”

“CAN I GET [[20% Back]] ON ALL MY [discontinued merch] YOU SOLD? HE [Busted my ass] OVER THOSE [[Bowties]], YOU KNOW. STILL THINKING ABOUT [Taking that to court], BY THE WAY. WITH EVERYTHING YOU [Shuld] OW3 m;E IN [[Legal Fees]]–”

Their feathers ruffled and their gaze narrowed, causing Spamton to roll his eyes. Fine. If there was anything he saw happening, that wasn't one of them.

A real big shot knows when to bail. But hey, this can be a new hill of mine if I'm looking for one to die on in the neighborhood area.

“EH, IT WAS WORTH A [Take your shot]. CAN'T FIND A [Claims Lawyer] WHO'S NOT WANTING MY [~Specil Favors~] AS A CUT. SO YOU GOT YOURSELF A [This new 'dero is a Deal on Wheels], YOU DAMN [[Botched Paint job]]!” Spamton took their hand and they visibly grimaced, the corner of their mouth pinched in revulsion but obviously trying to keep a very poorly maintained composure. “SURPRISED TO SEE YOU COME AROUND! YOURE NOT [[Jelis]] I WAS [the bigger person] B4 YOU, ARE YOU? BY WANTING TO MAKE [Amending Rights]?”

“Don't… push it, Spamton.” Swatch pulled their hand away, and Spamton grinned smugly. Sure, one mutual agreement couldn't mend ten years worth of break-ins and belittlement, but it was something. And if there was something he didn't expect he'd be receiving when he spawned the [pipis], it was something.

“You've really been busy…!” [Banner] said and Spamton turned to look over at him and the rest. “Stealing art projects, storefronts in the dump, this whole looking-like-a-puppet thing, then being recruited by the lightners?”

“You're gonna, haha, explain all of this, right?” [Survey] raised a finger to interject. “I mean, if you're able. And when–”

Oh, I can use this.

“I HAVE AN [Exposition dump fee]. AND SLOWING DOWN TO [[Reduce the ads for just a small additional charge of       ]] WILL [caust] YA TOO. THERE’S SOME BITS HIDDEN BEHIND [[Non disclosure]], BUT I’M AT A LOSS OF HOW TO TAKE CARE OF THOSE.”

That was enough to cause the addisons to look genuinely unsure of themselves, as they shared unsettled glances amongst the group.

Just what I thought! Now I'll know for sure if they're full of crap of not. Nothing comes between an addison and their cash funds–

“Why not? That’s only fair!” It took the yellow one to offset their discomfort, with some very forced enthusiasm of his own. “Anything to get the whole scoop of what's going on, Spam.”

Oh. 

They're serious.

That wiped the smile right off his face.

“Also no hard feelings about the robbery or anything!” The orange addison reassured, his voice chipper. “Seeing the state of this thing,” He raised the worn down blazer by its sleeves. “I would have probably just given you what you're wearing because this thing reeks! And who mended this for you? Some Poppup blinded by its own windows? A low power werewire?”

“THERE’S ONLY SO MANY [[Fabric softener cubes]] YOU CAN [munch] ON AND SO MUCH [[7 New Air freshener scents]] TO GET THIS BODY SMELLING LIKE [[Brand New Leather Interior]]. HOWEVER, I’M TRYIN’ SOMETHING NEW. AND THAT’s THIS [Cable Network]’S     [Dish soap]! BEST [deterent] THIS SIDE OF [Hell]! I’M LOVING [the results]!”

The pitying gazes were back from the addisons, on full display and seeing them in action got him to mentally backtrack with a glitch to his head. What were those looks even for? What did they expect? 

“...ALSO DON’T DISS THE [CraftSpamship]! EVERY LAST DROP OF MY [Blood transfusions] AND OTHER ASSORTED [slimes] WENT INTO THAT [Care in every stitch]! THAT’S ONE [Fine Piece] YOU’RE HOLDING.”

“Do… uh, you want it… back?” The orange program was now looking like he had every second thought on his mind while holding it, albeit farther away from himself than it originally was.

“EAHA…HEAHEAHAHAHA!” Spamton laughed then put his hands on his hips. “NO [&$@%ING] THANK YOU. I’M LIKING [modeling stolen goods] MUCH BETTER. UnLESS YOU HAVE SOMETHING [suavier] WITH A LOOK THAT HAS ME [screaming and begging to] TAKE IT OFF YOUR HANDS.”

“I… can see what I can do. No! I will see what I can do! It will be just like the old days in you helping me design my outfits when I was just getting started!”

Just like the old days…? I don't know how I feel about that. But having a wardrobe again would be neat, especially if I don't have to steal it.

“Wait, okay, Spam,” [[Survey]] approached him and returned to their previous kneeling position in front of him, their hands clenching the knees of their pants. “Can we catch up with you when you're done with… all of this cafe stuff? Right now we're all staying in one of the homes in castle town. Where are you staying? It's… somewhere safe, right?”

Spamton nodded, grateful there even was a place to call home in the moment.

And he's standing right here.

He glanced over at Tenna, who peered back at him with that silly, too-wide flimsy smile on his face. He looked almost proud, or immensely relieved at the situation, almost like he had when Spamton had seen him reuniting his weather employees after their lover’s spat as the dealmakers. Spamton couldn't begin to imagine all the soap operas and reunion episodes of various climactic television shows he was comparing this situation to internally.

The blue addison had followed his glance to Tenna, and then back, as if connecting some mental ties of their own. 

“With him?”

“MY [party of 2] DO3$sn”T KNOW IM HERE. THIS [boxhead] HAS THE BEST [[5 Star Hotel Suite]] THIS SIDE OF THE FOUNTAin. WHAT? YOU SHOULD KNOW I'D NEVER [Cash in my side of the settlement] FOR LESS."

“That's… really good, Spam! I'm glad he could be there for you. We're sorry we couldn't do the same, even when we had the opportunity from the start. Before your fame. Before any of this.”

They mean that.

They all mean that.

Things are going to be different from now on.

…

…

It's not going to go back to the way it was.

To that, Spamton extended his arms out to his sides, and the blue addison looked up at him, puzzled. He fanned his fingers just to make the motion a tad more obvious what he was trying to convey.

“...THOSE [[sad faces]] LOOK BETTER ON THE BACK OF A [mourner’s pamphlet]. COME ON, BRING IT IN. JUST NOT LIKE HOW YOU DID [earlier]–”

“Oh Spam! You missed us too!” To his surprise, [Sponsor] accepted the invitation first, breezing past [Survey] on the ground and swooped Spamton up in a hug of their own. In moments, more enveloping pressures pit themselves around him, with the following hues of blue, orange and eventually pink, and for the first time in a long time, Spamton lamented the way it had never once been like this. 

A white addison, the first created of his darkner species, followed by other colorful variants down the line. They'd existed because he existed, he told himself, so why were they fashioned to do better than him at their one shared purpose? It was like the first design had failed and whoever made them was trying to compensate for a prototype that was so dysfunctional. Jealousy and desperation had been a founding feeling, as if they'd all been spawned to compete since moment one. Being shied over, too small, too insignificant… and now that was different.

So you're telling me it could have been like this? The entire time? It could have always just been like this?

...Or maybe if I can change, they can too.

Spamton could feel his breath hitch and his throat grow tight in the middle of the addison-led group hug, and he wrapped his arms around whichever ones were closest, his eyes feeling that familiar fullness of tears welling up behind his glasses.

“Now we have all the addisons back together! Each and every one is accounted for now! Wait until we let the others know!” [Banner] exclaimed, and held the others tighter, his enthusiasm definitely contagious. That got Spamton to smile to himself and silently let the tears roll freely and silently down his face as relaxed into the collective addison embrace, just allowing it to exist.

Spamton glanced past the addisons’ shoulders to see Tenna was wiping a tear away from his screen and clutching his hands together close to his chest. He looked so overwhelmingly elated, especially with how bright his screen was and how he'd seemed to take on a few extra inches. The puppet saw him bend over enough to nudge Swatch at his side.

“Isn't that the most heartwarming thing? Golly, I haven't seen a reunion like this ever since I’d still broadcast dramas for my lightners!”

Knew it.

“It's… definitely something. I never thought I'd see the day something like this happened. He was always so averse to the addisons. Neo… certainly changed more than what I thought possible.”

“You know, you could lift his Itty Bitty Ban you've unfairly chucked on him. Maybe he'd be happier and would treat you better, too. Less bickering and pipis throwing? Just a thought!” Tenna tilted his head to the side, tapping the bottom of his screen, his antennas swaying with the movement. However, with the way he smiled full-toothed at Swatch, his expression implied it was not ‘just a thought’.

“I’m… considering it, actually. I haven't seen him like this in a very long time. Perhaps I was wrong about this. Wrong about him.”

“Oh Perhaps, huh? C'mon, wise up! You can't possibly see something like this and go back to being a real stick in the mud and keep what problems you two had going, can you? There is some real magic here! Look at them, they're hugging!”

“...You really care about him, hmm?”

“Of course I do! We’re partners.” Tenna said, his intimidating tone switching to transparent, enthusiastic glee. “He’s my favorite little shining star. Always has been! And if he gets to be happy, well then it makes me happy t–”

A flower bloomed at the end of Tenna’s nose and he balked, cutting himself off as he folded an enclosed fist over it as soon as it had showed up, petals fluttering to the floor with his efforts to conceal it and keep whatever threatening position he had before Swatch got him to start talking. 

“...I see.”

“Anyway, what about that ban, huh?” Tenna crinkled his nose as he fanned away the remaining petals. “I think it's awfully Stupid. What kind of cold-hearted bastard keeps something like that in place after seeing something so beautiful?”

“I can't help but to agree with you.”

Tenna looked with feigned surprise to the shorter bird-like darkner. “Oh?”

“I was thinking about it when you tried to talk him down from throwing his spawned attack, how I may have missteped in my assumptions. I believe I… could have done significantly better. I allowed my qualms with Spamton and emotions to get the better of my rationale.”

“Shocker! The folks at home would have never expected that as a turnout. I certainly wouldn't know what that feels like at all.”

“You two are permitted entry. I don't think a permanent ban would have been effective anyhow. Perhaps it would have been short-lived at best, but I don't want to imagine myself implementing something like that with what I know now.” Swatch adjusted their glasses. “That and I think I could use both of your help in making this place as good as it was.”

“I wasn't planning on backing out of that last bit! But I think you made the Right Choice.” Tenna slapped Swatch harshly on the back of their shoulders, the force of it, combined with the CRT's strength, had them lurch forward and turn their head to send an annoyed look up at him. “So good on you! I guess there is hope for all of you cyber darkners!”

“Clearly.” Was all Swatch could respond with, as they straightened up in a pestered jolt, taking generous steps away from Tenna, who'd gone back to happily smiling, reveling in their now new, shared victory. Spamton couldn't help but smile along with him, for multiple different reasons just as he was being set down by the addisons.

“Oh no. Sorry, Spam…!" [Banner] exclaimed. "Are you alright? We didn't mean to make you cry–”

Easy for you to say. You're doing the same thing too, you asshole.

Come to think of it, all the advertisers had tears in their eyes, even the pink one, which was surprising, but as soon as it was out in the open, Spamton quickly started wiping his own away.

“So!” Tenna loudly clapped as he strutted forward towards the addison group, thankfully intervening on the moment. “Now that everything is all worked out! Staying connected, that'll be the real kicker!” He crossed one arm under the other and motioned towards all four addisons. “Does any one of you receive signal with radio waves? How about infrared, or is that only with my zappers?"

The four addisons looked back and forth between eachother, with [[Clicks]] eventually shrugging at the rest of them.

“We have…? Phones?” [Banner] slipped out a small rectangular cellphone from his back pocket. “They’re updated, helps us catalog and keep track of all our sales, that and they're connected to the ad holograms we can make. You can put your number in here if you want.” He extended his hand up towards Tenna, presenting him with the cellphone.

Tenna leaned forward with a fist balled against his hip, brow pinched as he looked skeptically at the little device, observing it. “What the hell is that? That's not a phone. That's some newfangled doohickey! Really, what kind of gizmos and thingamajigs are the youths of today coming up with?"

“It's a smartphone.” [Sponsor] offered, looking genuinely unsure if the TV was joking or not.

“Well, finally we can agree on something. With other phones being dumb as bricks.” Tenna smirked, and Spamton silently appreciated his attempted humor there, with the jab at the rotary phone that had got them both into this mess. “Can it still work like a regular phone?”

“Yeah, it still works like an older phone. You can still take calls, call others–”

“Oh, nevermind! This will be perfect. Well, potentially! I know I can try some good ol’ electromagnetic interference, or maybe…? Hmm. Let's just see what I can do-” Tenna pressed a small button at the side of his head, and waited as his antennas started generating heaps of electricity, letting out a small electronic hum, which Tenna hummed along with in his own voice, morphing it into an absentminded tune.

This got cut off rather quickly as the cellphone in [Banner]'s hand started to ring with a cheesy jingle that could only qualify as a ringtone to Spamton if all the best options were sapped from the list. It was annoying, and so unlike what he was used to with the ringing that would pop up now and again in his head. His eye twitched as he looked at the phone with disgust.

Thankfully it didn't ring for very long as [Banner] picked up the phone and held it to the side of his head, the other addisons inadvertently and curiously leaning in. “H-hello?”

“Oh it worked!” Tenna joyously said as he continued to hold the button at his head, the voltage of his antennas visible at this point. “I can hear you just fine. See, this is why you can't underestimate older technology! There's Nothing we can't adapt to! Now we're connected! Simple as that.” 

“It's a little staticky-”

“And is it making clicking noises?” [Sponsor] rubbed their chin with their finger.

“Point is, we can hear you too." The pink addison silenced the other two beside him. "So we should be able to get in contact with Spam through you? Until we can get him a phone too–”

“NO.” Spamton snapped, and a glitch distorted his head before he slapped both sides of his cheeks in an effort to stop it from getting out of hand. When his pixels came back together, he let out a nervous, breathy laugh as his hands lowered. “I MEAN… NO. I– EAHEAHEA! [Y]   [whyd] [Opt-In] FOR A [Phone plan] WHEN YOU CAN BE [[Sending your bank statements]] THROUGH EMAIL. LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE.” He crossed his arms. “I HAVEN’T [Gone Postal] JUST YET. OR I DON’T PL4N Tt[[To]].

“R…right. Well, you can't say we didn't try–”

“WAIT! [Hold the phone]! I MAY HAVE C0m3 UP WITH AN IDEA LIKE THIS [Cantankerous Cathode] OVE R    HERE!! WITH HIS [Fancy Shmancy]  HIGH-VOLTAGE [[Frequency Overlap]] ABILLITYS. ONE OF YOU HAVE [email] IN YOUR [[accursed devices]]? GIVE ME THE [Goods]!”

“Are you saying you want to look at one of our phones too?” [Survey] asked, taking theirs out as well.

“[Affirmative].”

“Okay, I trust you, as I really would want to find a way to reach out to you when I can.” The blue addison then handed him their phone. 

Spamton took it gingerly, turning it over and over in his hands before unhinging his jaw and chucking it carelessly in his mouth.

“Wha-?! Hey!” The blue addison looked shocked and incredibly disturbed as they jutted forward, reaching out towards his face. “What are you doing?!”

“Holy shit,” [[Clicks]] looked horrifically entertained, his expression twisted in concern but still smiling out of what could only be surprise. “Did he just eat your phone, Surv?”

“He just ate Survey’s phone. That's… well, it's unexpected.” [[Banner]] looked stunned as well, promptly hanging up his call with Tenna, who also was bewildered by what just happened, standing silently with his antennas straight as he tried to process what was going on.

Just let me do my thing! You'll get it back!

Spamton scurried away and his head glitched in a ruthless, messy distortion, breaks of pixels separating away from him every which way as he made his distance away from the pursuing addison. In what were only passing seconds, Spamton skidded to a halt and the glitches stopped, leaving him just a bit woozy, before he opened his jaw again and took the phone out of his mouth. With a narrowed gaze, he tossed it back in the blue addison’s direction, and they'd flailed their hands forward to catch it, or at least provide it with a soft enough surface to shield its screen. They were successful, and it returned to their hands unscathed and unaltered, at least on the outside.

“What…? What'd you do?!”

“OPEN IT.”

With great hesitation, [Survey] followed the instruction, their face pinched in insecurity before their eyes widened. “Is this…? Contact of random numbers and letters you?”

“EAHEAHEA! YOU CAN [change the title of your      ]!! NO ONE’S ST0p>p1NG YOU!” Spamton took a couple steps toward the group, his smile stretched and strained. “NOW. [Send Msg]. YOU CAN’T [[We’re Sorry, The # You Have Dialed Is No Longer Available]]– YOU. CAN’T. CALL.      IT WON’T WORK.”

Not in this body.

“But sending a message will…? Okay, then…” They all waited in anticipated silence as the blue addison typed out a message using the phone, and looked uneasy as they did, no doubt also not appreciating the spotlight they were put in. When they'd sent it and the small chime from their phone sounded out, they looked back up at him with confusion still present in their face.

“I sent it. D-did it–” [Survey] was then abruptly cut off my a vicious scratching sound akin to a far-too-outdated printer. All the addisons jumped, startled at the grating, screeching mismatched mechanical tones emanating from Spamton's closed teeth, and the blue glow of the one holding the phone dimmed to a paler shade as the puppet opened his jaw again, only this time removing a holographic white envelope from behind his teeth with a soft 'fwip'. With his thumb, he flipped the lip of the envelope open and unfolded it, reading the message that had been nestled on the inside.

‘Hi, Spam :) Is this even going to work?’

“...TO [Answer Below] YOU, IT DID!” Spamton folded the envelope again, it deteriorating in a scattering of green pixels, similar to how his healdeals disappeared. “THAT’S HOW YOU [Get a hold of yourself!]            . THIS WAY YOU CAN [[Return to Sender]] ALL KINDS OF [Money letters] FOR YOUR B3l0VED [#1RatedSalesman]!!”

More silence. A weighted, disturbed one. Like no one wanted to acknowledge that.

“...WHAT!?” He gestured outward with his hands. “MY [All we do is advertise!] [Holograms] ARE [[On permanent Leave]]. THEY’RE BROKEN. THIS IS HOW I [operations] NOW. GOT A PR;0BLEM [W/] THAT?”

“What do you mean broken?” [Clicks] asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I MEAN [busted]! [[Out of order]]! THEY’RE [glitched] AND DON’T [close up shop] WHEN YOU WANT THEM TO! WHAT? YOU WANT ME TO SHOW YOU SINCE I'M SOME [[Jack of all trades]] ALL'A'SUDDEN?"

"Spamton, don't." Swatch said, cordially but tinged with warning. “This place is already destroyed enough. The only one who can close out those glitched ad windows is Tasque Manager, and I'm sure she wouldn't want to get herself involved.”

“I WASN’T [planning] 0n [Opening Soon] 1 OF THOSE ANYWAY. MERELY [entertaining] IT. BUT HEY, THANKS FOR [the season of giving] THESE [[Yahoos]] THE [lowdown throwdown] OF THAT TIDBIT OF MINE.”

The addisons still looked unsure with themselves, but [Sponsor] put their hand on both the pink and blue one’s shoulders and spoke in a straightforward tone to both of them. “Look, it's different. Maybe a lot of things are different now with him. But look on the bright side! We can reach out to him now. Any other scenario we just use Tenna! Easy peasy.” He gestured at Tenna with his thumb over his shoulder.

In that moment, Spamton glanced over to his side and watched as Tenna crouched down beside him, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Hey, that's uhm… not like how you used to summon your mailed envelopes. You're full of so many surprises today.”

Spamton grinned sheepishly, resisting melting into Tenna’s touch and the feeling of his hair being slicked back by the taller darkner’s glove. “...S;0rRY IT’S NOT WHAT YOu REMEMBERED mE B3iNG ABLE [[To-Do List]].”

“Sure, it's a lil unusual! But it's not a new quirk of yours I can't get used to. Look at you, like a mini potential fanmail generator!" He giggled and pet his hair down for a second time, ruffling it this time around. “My little mailman, back at it again.”

“H;3hEY!! [Ten Item Limit]! MIND Th3 [Do], WOULD’JA?” Spamton chuckled in response and smoothed his hair back with both hands. “IM TRYNA [keep up] A>pp3ARINCES.”

“Right, no! Ofcourse, I wouldn't want to embarrass you.” Tenna leaned in closer to him, moving one hand behind his head, his opposite wrist resting comfortably on his knee, as he wiped Spamton’s nearly-dried tears with his thumb. “I’m just… I like seeing you so happy. It's like your light’s shining brighter than it ever could when you're smiling like that. What'd you say earlier? ‘You look good in second chances?’”

Spamton averted his eyes away and snickered, his face going a bright pink. “[Cathode], PLEASE.”

“I can't help it,” Tenna landed a small, tender kiss on his forehead before leaning over him. “I'm glad you stuck with this. You deserve it.”

“WE HAVEN’T EVEN GOT TO THE [[Construction portion]] YET. DON’T [call the shots] TOO EARLY.” 

“No, but don't you think you've come awfully far? You deserve at least the recognition!”

Maybe I do. But your recognition is what will always matter most to me.

Spamton reached out and slid his hand onto Tenna’s neck, as he closed his teeth shut and pressed his face on the side of Tenna’s screen in a kiss of his own. Tenna, his smile widening and continuing to giggle from glee, wrapped both his hands around Spamton’s waist from underneath the puppet's arms, his thumbs pressed against his chest as he slowly stood and raised Spamton up to his screen–

“Ahem–” One of the addisons cleared their throat and Spamton felt Tenna stiffen, his antennas straightening as he turned his attention towards the four addisons looking awkwardly at the two. Tenna looked mortified and humiliated at very nearly potentially losing the professionalism he'd shown up with and intended to maintain. From a surprised expression, his screen then went dark, most likely trying to conceal his emerged blush as he continued to hold Spamton out in front of him.

“...WH0A!! H;hE  yY H3>>Y    [[Super Star]]! LOOK! THERE IT IS!” Spamton reached up as far as he could, kicking his legs and arching his back to reach higher, and wiped the side of Tenna’s screen with his sleeve. “THAT [Splotch] ON YOUR FACE YOU WERE [Worryed] AB;0uT! I [Signal Found] IT!! SEE? N0THING TO GET [self conscience] OV3R! THAT’S ALL THAT WAS! [Blemish Check]! NO [Shmear] GETs PAST MY WATCHFUL [Eyaes], NO MATTER HOW CLOSE I HAVE’TA GET!”

I’ll do my bragging to these advertising do-gooders later. Maybe when everything is cooled down.

“...Oh! Yes! Thank you, Spamton. For getting that! For me. Ahaha…!” His screen flickered back into brightness as he chuckled awkwardly and hastily set Spamton back down onto his feet. Looks like another day could have gone by with ‘discreet’ and ‘lowkey’ as practically their middle names. They were so good at this.

“Right, well,” [Banner] rubbed the back of his neck. “We're sorry we barged in. We know you have to get to the rest of this,” He motioned towards the rest of the cafe. “But could you do that thing with the rest of our phones that you did with Survey’s? Just so we can all contact you and schedule a time to catch up?”

“[Sertain]LY! NOW WE’RE GETTING [down to brass tacks]!! LET’S GET THIS IN THE [budget contacts] PRONTO–”

After three more repeated processes of glitching episodes and inputting his contact information in the addisons’ phones, they seemed a lot calmer than they had been the first time, as they knew what to expect, despite how offkilter and abnormal his new talents were. Still, they seemed accepting enough, as they were most likely more relieved with their revelations rather than with the after effects, even if those still obviously weighed on their minds collectively. That would be a fun, not-complicated-at-all conversation for the future, as he discussed the permanence of this body of his, but he'd felt more secure of it now than he had a few days ago, that was for sure. 

Spamton felt more familiar, but to himself, and of himself. It was as if he had stapled in the fact he was capable of change on a more extensive level, and that his repeated damning processes and cycles could be broken successfully with the right help at his disposal. Meanwhile, relationships that he thought could never be salvaged weren't as beyond repair as he once considered they were. 

A lot of it felt… too easy after the fact, even if he could never forget the grueling and curdling uncertainty and anguish that had once pooled in his gut before everything was resolved. It felt like he could have always done that if he'd simply just allowed himself the leeway and the freedom to, even if it was unattainable in the previous timestamps of his life. Just earlier, he was panicked, defeated, ready to flee… but now he had taken a drastic one-eighty into a new horizon. Now that it was all said and done, there were a couple things he could really take away from all of this.

Recovery was weird. Reintroduction was weird. Second chances were weird. He'd need to acclimate, but over time, once he'd given himself some grace.

The addisons took their leave, each one kneeling by him to give him an individual hug and last remarks before heading out, and their assurances that he not only was missed, but appreciated, found, mourned at one point. It was a lot to process. He wasn't sure if he could do it as quickly as they wanted him to–

“Well, big shot? Where should we start first? Maybe the swatchlings have a game plan in how they want this place done.”

Spamton gazed up at Tenna, the CRT's expression a hodgepodge of shame but also of hopefulness, as he truly looked confident in the fact he was doing the right thing by mending the consequences of his actions. There was a drive to him reminiscent of when they were backstage, amping themselves up for the performance ahead.

There was the memory of Tenna practicing twirling a prop microphone in hand before being handed the real deal by his staff, and Spamton mentally readying himself for a segment of getting piloted by those guiding strings, wondering how flawlessly his benefactor would play him today. Things were different now, but hopefully in time they could find something similar for their respective enrichment in this place they called home, with better results.

There was a funny thing about being in the right place at the right time. Doing the right thing, for the right cause.

And the one he did it for was going to be right beside him the entire time.

“START WITH THE [Basics]. THEN WORK OUR WAY [[Up to the stars]]!” Spamton pointed directly above his head at the crater in the ceiling above. “OR WE MIGHT AS WELL START OFF BY GOING [Big] OR GOING [Home]!”