Chapter Text
Well, that mission couldn’t have gone worse. Not only has Battat accidentally dragged TV Time’s reputation into the mud for any future visits to the apartment, but they also gained no new info in the end. At least there came a silver lining in the form of a callback from one of the Addisons (even though it was one of the reasons they got caught).
Battat managed to contact the person again through Jongler’s phone to create a scheduled time where they could meet. Swanson, which was the name of the person he was calling, wanted to meet on a day when his brother was away at work; leaving him and Battat the only two people in the Addison household.
After the disappointment of his friend's attempt at help, the smaller Mike didn’t mind the idea of driving all the way there and doing the interview by himself. However, a certain salesman happened to be in earshot during the conversation, and with Tenna’s approval, Battat was forced to bring the puppet along on his trip.
For as much as Sampson claimed to hate his family, it was odd seeing him wanting to join Battat in this meeting. When asked, the salesman claimed it was merely for damage control; to make sure that nothing slips out about his new body. But it wasn’t like anyone would believe whatever Battat might say about him, especially since he’s a complete stranger to Swanson.
Whatever the reason, the assistant had no say over his superior, and now he’s stuck driving for over two hours while babysitting a middle-aged puppet man.
It’s times like these that make Battat reminisce when he never met Sampson in person. When the man was purely another mystery for him to uncover along with finding the true intentions of an infamous killer clown or whether or not the game, Mantle, is actually haunted. He hoped that finding out the truth of his boss’s partner would help Tenna out and, frankly, it has. No one in the studio has ever seen the TV host this lively before, not since his sister’s family still visited him regularly.
But now all that mystique about the salesman’s disappearance had completely vanished, leaving him with an annoyingly stubborn doll who’s now dry heaving on the passenger seat because he previously ate an entire meal too big for his little body to handle.
“You better not throw up in my car.” Battat scowled while keeping his eyes on the road.
“I-I DON’T THINK I… C-CAN..” Sampson tried to respond nauseously. “THIS NEVER… HAPPENED BEFORE..”
According to Tenna, the inner workings of Sampson’s body are still a complete mystery. He can eat and taste, but no one has ever seen him digest or regurgitate it out. His eyes are merely empty, tiny holes, yet he can still see through them. It’s like his body is a mixture of doll and human parts, and from whatever Battat felt by digging his hand inside the puppet that one time, this description might be the case.
“I thought you didn’t need to eat.” the assistant recalled. “So why force Tenna to cook for you at all?”
“I NEVER… FORCED HIM.” the puppet shot back mid belch, offended by the claim. “AND WHY WOULD I EVER GIVE UP FOOD? I HAVEN’T EATEN IN YEARS!”
“Well maybe you’re just sick because your body’s not built for food.” Battat meant this as an insult at first, but after thinking about it, it might be a plausible theory.
Sampson continued groaning in pain while clinging onto where his stomach should be. The assistant didn’t keep any medicine in his car, so the next best thing to give the puppet would be a distraction. A lot of Battat’s equipment are off limits to everyone but himself, but he does keep a smart tablet to distract the other Mikes when driving them.
“Look, there’s a tablet inside the glove compartment.” Battat sighed while pointing at the area. “Maybe that will keep your mind off.”
Per the smaller Mike’s request, Sampson removed his seatbelt in order to stretch his entire body to open the glove compartment. After pulling it out, the puppet scrunched his face as he examined every corner of the device. “WHERE THE HELL ARE THE BUTTONS?”
That’s when Battat realized that he basically gave a 20th century salesman something made before his time and expected him to understand it. Hopefully, teaching him wouldn’t be as hard as it is teaching his boss.
“Uh, you do know what a touch screen is, right?” Battat tried to explain. “Just press the button on the side, then tap the screen.”
Thankfully, Sampson understood the instructions and found the button to turn on the tablet, but when it came to getting to the Home Screen, the puppet tried multiple times tapping his plastic little fingers on the screen only to meet with no progress.
“THE DAMN THING WON’T WORK!” the salesman's fury grew as he pressed harder and harder on the device.
“Hey, don’t break that!” Battat yelled back. “There’s a pen you can use in the same glove compartment.”
Groaning, the puppet got up from his seat again to retrieve the pen. This time, he logged onto the tablet successfully and became more quiet as he learned to navigate through apps by himself.
From the small moments that Battat had the opportunity to look over, the salesman seemed to be a fast learner for someone who was isolated for 20 years. It kind of makes the assistant wish that Tenna was this way when updating his technological knowledge. Hopefully, subscribing his boss to Electronic Monthly magazines would help inspire him to at least care about upgrading.
However, this quiet moment was interrupted by the puppet’s ear-bursting laughing fit after finding the notes app.
“YOU THINK MANTLE IS HAUNTED!?”
The smaller Mike’s face went red in embarrassment when hearing the salesman’s discovery. God dammit! I thought I deleted those notes!
“Okay, you’ve had your fun, now give it back!” he told the salesman passive-aggressively, trying to grab the tablet with one hand while driving with the other.
“NO WAY! I GOTTA READ MORE OF THIS!” Sampson teased as he held the tablet away from Battat’s reach.
Okay, maybe teaching this guy about new technology isn’t such a good idea.
After a long, agonizing drive, they’ve finally made it to the Addison household. Before going inside, Battat takes out his duffel bag full of recording equipment for Sampson to hide in, leaving the top open per request. Battat remembers the doll being fairly light the last time he held him, but for some reason, the bag became a lot heavier with the added weight.
Maybe his body is storing food… somewhere.
Battat knocks at the front door and is greeted by a familiar face he last saw in an old photo surrounded by Sampson’s other siblings; looking much older and wearing a more casual blue sweater.
“Ah, you must be Mike.” Swanson greeted as Battat nodded in response. “Please, come in.”
As this was his first time inside Sampson’s childhood home, the assistant took this opportunity to examine every corner of the house as he made his way to the living room. There were tons of awards and certificates from their family-owned business placed around the house, as well as family photos that spanned from many generations. What was odd, though, was how there seemed to be no signs of Sampson’s existence.
Swanson took interest as he noticed Battat eyeing the photographs. “This used to be our parents’ house, but now it’s just me and my older brother, Christian, living here.” he smiles as he points at a portrait containing one of the siblings Battat had seen before in the salesman’s old dressing room; this one sporting a ponytail.
“All the others had moved out to live on their own, years ago.” Swanson then lowered his head in sorrow as he gazed at an old family portrait that only contained four brothers. “…including Sampson.” he added with a heavy sigh.
“Let’s save the questions for after I’ve set up.” Battat said as he lowered his duffel bag under the living room table and grabbed a chair to sit across from the sofa. The assistant proceeded to dig around the bag and pulled out his equipment to set up as Swanson sat patiently across.
“I’m sorry it took so long to respond.” Swanson apologized, trying to pass the time. “My brothers wouldn’t tell me your number, so I had to go by vague hints in order to contact you.” he then laughed nervously. “I, uh, didn’t know there was more than one Mike at the studio.”
Battat slightly lifted his head from his work inquisitively after hearing that last sentence. So that’s why he called Jongler.
“As you could probably tell,” Swanson continued, now nervously rubbing his shoulder. “our family… doesn’t like to talk about him as much.”
Battat could’ve sworn he heard the puppet below him scoff after that last statement. It didn’t matter, though, because now the recording devices were finished and he could begin the interview.
“Okay, Mr. Addison.” Battat began after hitting the record button. “Tell me what made you interested in learning more about your brother’s disappearance.”
…
It wasn’t a surprise to his brothers when Sampson told them that he was leaving the company. He always claimed that he could be a big shot on his own without any of his siblings slowing him down. Of course, with his miserable sales record, no one ever believed his words.
His older brothers, Christian and Bennison, would always tease him about this while the younger Swanson and Gideon tried to reason with him to have more realistic goals. When Sampson showed up on the news as ‘The Number One Rated Salesman of 1997’, everyone was obviously skeptical, and this was enough to drive the middle sibling away.
After the fight, neither side was willing to talk to each other for years. Christian claimed that it was best for the family to cut ties with someone who would desert his Addison roots, but Swanson was never fully convinced. Sure, Sampson was undoubtedly the black sheep of the family, but it was no excuse to outright abandon him.
20 years ago, on the day before his brother went missing, Swanson made his way to The Queen’s Apartments by himself to check up on him. He never bothered calling beforehand, knowing that Sampson wouldn’t have wanted to invite him anyway, and hoped that with this surprise visit, he could help alleviate some tension between the family.
But before he could even get into the apartment, he noticed Sampson exiting his car and making his way inside. Swanson rushed over to his brother, both greeting him with relief and frantically trying to apologize, yet the salesman completely ignored him as he made his way into the apartment.
This was the last time that they’ve ever met in person. Swanson eventually told his brothers about this secret meeting after Sampson went missing, although the information wouldn’t help much in finding him. He never thought much of the salesman’s strange behavior until the day he returned.
Something seemed… off about Sampson’s personality. No one else wanted to acknowledge this, most likely due to held resentment, but Swanson could tell that even his brothers were skeptical over Sampson’s return.
…
“… My skepticism grew even more after your call.” Swanson continued. “You, uh, could say it inspired me to look more deeply into this.”
Swanson then pulled out his phone, revealing several photos and notes related to every news appearance from Sampson. It’s not as intricate as Battat’s corkboard, but it certainly proved that his conspiracies had rubbed off on the younger salesman.
“Do any of your other brothers know about this?” Battat asked.
“No..” Swanson sighed sadly. “Everyone’s trying to forget him. I’m… too afraid of what they’ll think of me if I show them all this.”
A heavy silence filled the room as Battat felt sorrow for this lone soldier. The assistant was lucky enough to have friends like Pluey and Jongler to stay by his side through his erratic theories and job-risking schemes. He couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be ostracized by everyone around you, including your own family.
I can see why Sampson wanted to leave them so badly.
“But…” Swanson added in. “Even though they might not show it, I’m sure they miss him as much as I do.”
“BULL-[$#*%].” the sudden voice of the puppet coughed from under the table. This time it was loud enough for both of them to hear.
“What was that?” Swanson asked as he looked around to locate the source of the noise.
“Oh, that was probably just my equipment.” Battat reassured him before angrily looking down and kicking the duffel bag.
I thought you didn’t want him to notice you!
“Anyways, let’s just continue with the interview.”
Over an hour has passed since Battat had entered the household. Aside from Swanson’s given perspective on the conspiracy, nothing else was learned from the interview that Battat doesn’t already know. It seemed like the imposter was somehow even more distant from the Addisons compared to the original, to a point where no one in the family even knows where he lives.
Seeing as this meeting was going nowhere, Battat was planning on ending the interview and heading out until he felt a sudden tug on his pants leg from under the table. Not wanting to risk Sampson trying to be quiet with his loud, staticky voice again, the assistant turned off the recording device and grabbed the duffel bag from underneath.
“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom for a bit.” he smiled awkwardly while trying to sound polite.
“Oh, no problem. It’s just down that hallway.” Swanson reassured him as he pointed his hand in the direction.
Following his instructions, Battat eventually found his way to the bathroom and locked himself inside, giving him and Sampson a private place to talk. But before he even gets the chance to say a word, the puppet bursts out of the duffel bag and dashes towards the separate room containing the toilet, pulling the second door closed along the way.
Whatever had been eating at the salesman’s nonexistent stomach was now taking its toll, as the assistant could hear the wretched sounds of the puppet trying to vomit from the other side of the door. Not even he was curious enough to learn what vile concoction that thing could possibly spit out, and leaving the room with all the noise going on would make Swanson suspicious, so Battat had no choice but to remain where he was and plug his ears with his fingers as a desperate attempt to mute the sound.
The strategy didn’t work as well in Battat’s favor, but the noises finally ended with a loud plop coming from the toilet. The violent sound of regurgitation was now replaced with dead silence, making the assistant start to worry about the aftermath.
“Uh, Sampson?” Battat tried to call out as he knocked on the door. “You okay in there?”
No response. No snarky quips, no angry yelling about privacy; nothing.
Now the assistant started to feel nauseous with worry. Not much for Sampson, though, but rather how Tenna would react to this. He’s already witnessed the wrath of his boss when he kidnapped the doll; imagine what would happen if his partner ended up dead under his watch! He’ll probably lose more than just his job, that’s for sure!
Holding his breath, Battat slowly opened the door, preparing for the worst. Inside he was met with…
…a relatively clean room. After all those sounds of a desperate struggle, nothing looked out of place. The only thing of note was a flipped over trash bin acting as a stool for the toilet, and Sampson huddled against the wall with his head hiding behind his legs; shaking like a terrified child.
“D… don’t look…” he muttered while still hiding his face. It sounded like he was in the middle of weeping before Battat showed up.
Despite the warning, Battat still couldn’t help but wonder whatever the hell this puppet could possibly produce, so he turned towards the toilet. Inside was something neither of them could ever predict; a light blue egg-shaped object that was too big to be flushed down. It looked big enough to choke the puppet, which probably explains the struggle of getting it out.
“What… is that?” Battat asked, trying to understand what he’s seeing with his own eyes.
“I DON’T KNOW, OKAY!?” the salesman immediately snapped at him, showing his face to reveal the tears rolling down his cheeks. “I-I’VE NEVER.. DONE THIS BEFORE.”
The last time Battat had seen Sampson this distraught was when they had found the box he was trapped in. But while that was more of a silent mourning, this situation feels completely different. The salesman looks defeated over whatever he had just produced, so much that he couldn’t even hide it under anger or sarcasm. Even Battat didn’t know how to handle this situation, especially with someone that he doesn’t even like.
Awkwardly clenching onto his shoulder, the assistant looked over to the blue egg thing once again to try to make sense of it. Despite its pleasant-looking pigment, there’s a faint, foul odor emanating from inside; smelling like rotten food.
“Maybe this is how you digest.” Battat tried to explain. “It just comes out of pellets like owls do.”
“OWLS?” Sampson squinted dumbfounded at the smaller Mike’s hypothesis. He almost looked like he would make some sort of snarky comeback, but instead he lowered his head back behind his knees and tugged on his hair. “GOD, IT JUST GETS WORSE…” he moaned pathetically.
Okay, maybe trying to make sense of it isn’t the best solution.
Battat was no stranger to comforting a wealthy businessman who’s ten times older than him, but whereas Tenna was more easy after experience, Sampson is another story. No matter how much he knows about the salesman’s past or the little scraps of info on how his new body works, he’s still a complete stranger to him. As scatterbrained as his boss may be, he’s at least right about one thing:
“Mike! You weren’t there, alright? You never knew him…”
“DON’T TELL TENNA ABOUT THIS, OKAY?”
Battat stared inquisitively at the puppet. Just as he was thinking about his boss, Sampson had unintentionally interjected with new information about their relationship. How much else had he been hiding from his partner?
“Does Tenna know what’s in the hole on your back?” the smaller Mike asked. Sampson was quiet for a moment until he ashamedly shook his head.
“I JUST DON’T WANT HIM TO WORRY.”
This, he could work with; advice. It was one of the easiest things to tell his boss before he got to know him personally. Battat slowly made his way inside and sat against the wall next to the puppet.
“I think it’s important for him to know these things.” the assistant advised. “I mean, he is your partner.”
Sampson hugs his knees as he looks down. “YOU DIDN’T SEE HOW HE REACTED WHEN I STARTED MOVING. HE WAS SO SCARED HE TRIED TO KILL ME.” more tears began to well up behind his glasses. “I DON’T WANNA SCARE HIM AWAY WITH THIS.”
Once again, the puppet hides his face as he sobs uncontrollably. Battat was unsure of whether or not he should lay a hand on him in comfort, so he kept to himself.
“Y’know…” Battat ponders as his finger scratches the fabric of his pants. “I don’t think Tenna’s that scared of you if he lets you stay at his house for so long.”
Sampson raises his head a bit and sighs. “HE’S JUST DOING IT OUT OF PITY. He’s also desperate for a roommate.” he muttered the last bit under his breath.
The smaller Mike rolls his eyes at that statement. “Oh, come on, Sampson. You know as much as I do that he’s doing this out of more than just pity.” he then threw his hands up in rage as he thought more about his boss. “I mean, even before your imposter returned, the guy wouldn’t shut up about you!”
The salesman now revealed his head more out of intrigue. His crying had stopped, yet his face was still soaked in tears. “L-LIKE WHAT?”
“Well, for starters, every little thing that reminded him of you got him all moody, every therapy session began with some sort of tangent about you, and, oh, did he ever tell you about the time when he ordered us to build a giant, paper mache sculpture of your head!?”
The puppet’s eyes shot up over that last bit of info as his permanent grin became larger. “SERIOUSLY!? I KNOW HE CAN BE DRAMATIC, BUT… JESUS!”
Battat smiled as well as he thought of that event from not too long ago. “Yeah, in fact, it was so accurate, we almost got sued for copyright infringement.”
They both let out a laugh, with Sampson’s being louder and uglier than Battat’s. The assistant used to hate the sound of the salesman’s laugh, ever since he first heard it in recordings, but with the context of this self-centered-celebrity-turned-puppet being, well, a human being, it’s not really that bad.
However, their laughing fit ended abruptly after hearing a knock on the far away bathroom door. “What’s going on in there?” called the muffled sound of Swanson.
Shit, that’s right! I’m still in someone else’s house.
Sampson remained quiet as Battat lifted himself off the ground and walked towards the door. “Nothing, I, uh.. was just in the middle of a call.” he answered as he made a phone-shaped hand gesture, even though Swanson couldn’t see from the other side of the door.
“Oh, okay. Just wanna give you my phone number before you leave.”
Battat lit up at that request. Maybe this trip wasn’t a complete bust like last time. “Alright, thanks!” he responded. “Just give me a sec.”
He picks up his duffel bag and heads back towards Sampson. “Okay, let's head out now.” he says as he opens the bag. “And don’t forget what I said about talking to Tenna.”
The puppet nods and leaves his seating position, but stops as he looks towards the toilet, still carrying the unidentified blue thing. “SO, WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO WITH THAT?”
Sampson had a point. It was too big to flush, and he couldn’t throw it in the bin without the Addison’s noticing. Battat looks back in his duffel bag and notices that, even with the puppet, he still has some extra space.
Well, as long as it’s for research…