Work Text:
Laughter echoed off the walls of the enclosure, for a moment Tenna could pretend that there were multiple people, an audience, laughing at another one of his gags just like old times. But, of course, there was no audience, because Tenna no longer had a show. Instead, this was a show for one: King.
When Lancer had suggested that Tenna be King's new jester, Tenna jumped a bit too desperately at the opportunity. The wounds of a thousand little rejections still weighed him down, and the idea of anyone wanting to see his act made Tenna so excited he practically tripped over himself as he came down to the basement to entertain the fallen king.
Tenna remembered King, albeit vaguely. They first met when Kris had brought that deck of cards over to their house to play with. Their meeting was brief and frankly Tenna was much more interested in talking to Queen at the time, but he did remember King’s wicked smile and booming laughter. So, Tenna figured that it must be easy to get King to laugh.
He was wrong.
Tenna had brought with him jokes and puns, japes that he thought were brilliant, but the king simply mocked him in return.
“Hey, WHAT did the playing card say to the television!?” Tenna said with forced enthusiasm.
“Hm…” King pretended to think for a moment. “‘Leave.’”
That single word felt like a knife stabbing through the showman’s gut. Yet again Tenna was rejected, yet again his audience got bored of him. Tenna heaved a heavy sigh and turned to the exit, muttering to himself. Maybe his jokes were too modern, or maybe it was the exact opposite, maybe his jokes were too played out. Susie had told him that his games tended to get old after a while, and he hadn't tried any new routines in years. Just the same old reruns over and over again until-
*Slip!*
Tenna heard the crunch of his plastic head as it collided with the hard stone floor. “Wh-whoops! I tripped…!” He proclaimed. He stayed still like that for a beat, afraid of what the king might say. Then, suddenly, he heard the King's booming laughter finally fill the room.
“HEY!!! Don't laugh at my misfortune!!! I…!!!” The TV host pleaded indignantly.
“Good work, son. I LIKE this one.” King said, sounding strangely sincere.
The showman turned to look at King, stunned as ever. It had been a long time since anyone had ever told Tenna that they liked him, that they thought he was good. The anxious pit in his chest gave way to something soft and warm. Tenna chuckled a bit too, and tried to play off his tripping as intentional.
From that day forward, Tenna would always head down to the basement to entertain the king. Sure, it was difficult to tell what type of comedy the king liked, but that made Tenna kinda excited. It felt like a challenge just for him, a quiz he had to figure out. There was no answer sheet or immunity doodad, and there weren't any points to be gained. Even so, Tenna continued these comedy sessions anyway because finding out what King liked made him feel smart. It was like he was putting together a puzzle all on his own, and that puzzle was making him better at his craft.
Although, making King laugh did often mean that Tenna had to step outside his comfort zone and sacrifice his pride for the bit.
Tenna was very used to staged performances, performances that he wrote. In hindsight, those routines only concerned things that Tenna found funny, which was often puns and occasional sarcastic remarks. But King craved a more…humiliating form of comedy.
Tenna stood up and attempted to wipe away some of the now ruined pie off his face. “How was that?” Tenna inquired with an expectant smile on his face.
King, for his part, was laughing hysterically, gripping the sides of his stomach, “BAHAHAHA! Excellent.”
King let his face settle into his usual berserk smile, and the showman felt that warm feeling return as the praise reached his antennas. While these new comedy sessions with King required Tenna to humble himself by a lot, it was worth it to hear King compliment him. It was to Tenna’s understanding that King complimenting anyone was pretty rare, so the fact that he could consistently get that praise out of the king made him feel…special, in a way.
Tenna began to dust himself off, pie still dripping off his face, “Well, I'm glad you enjoyed my little performance, Your Blueness! But I should probably go wash up now so I bid you a-”
“Who said we were done?” The king said in a dangerous tone, making Tenna jump a bit.
“Oh! Well- I- Um…I just-”
Before Tenna could even form a proper sentence, King tossed something his way. “Put this on,” King ordered. Tenna looked down at what he had just caught...it was a collar with a leash attached? A dog collar? For dogs? Why had King given him this?
Tenna knew that King had a unique taste in comedy, but he had no idea how putting this on could look funny at all. The TV host almost questioned what exactly King had in mind, but he decided against it. Sure, it was a tad strange but he found himself enjoying all of King's suggestions thus far, so who knows? Maybe Tenna will find this collar thing funny too.
After a moment of hesitation, the showman wrapped the collar around his neck and strapped it into place. Tenna could’ve sworn that King dipped this thing in a fire before giving it to him, why else would the collar burn so uncomfortably around the showman's flushed throat?
Tenna gulped, realizing he had done the collar a bit too tight as he felt the bob in his throat fully press against the accessory. The TV host looked down at King and realized that he was the one holding the end of the leash the collar was attached to. Tenna attempted to speak up, “So what-”
Tenna felt his screen threaten to break after his entire body was roughly pulled downward, making his fragile face crash into the floor. Tenna was shocked, struggling to register what had just happened as he heard that sweet, cruel laughter fill his head. The showman groaned and attempted to look up at the perpetrator, his vision a bit unfocused from the fall.
But before he could concentrate on the sight in front of him, he got harshly jerked forward again. Once more he felt his head bang against something, although this something was much softer and warmer than the cold stone floor he had collided into seconds before. He gripped onto whatever his head was currently resting on, attempting to lift his head up. When he finally did, he was met with a wonderfully terrifying sight.
As his vision finally focused, he saw King (now intimately close to him) throwing his head back in laughter. He was laughing so hard too, Tenna thought he could almost see budding tears forming in the king's non-existent eyes. The TV host glanced down to King’s chest, and then his stomach-mouth (which was also laughing hysterically). Finally, Tenna dragged his gaze down to what his head was resting on: the king's thighs. The poor CRT felt a wave of electricity rush through his entire being at the realization, flustered more than he had ever been in his whole career.
However, despite his growing sense of embarrassment, the two harsh falls also made Tenna very disoriented. He was so dazed he could hardly tell what was going on or what he should do next. How did he fall onto King's thighs? What was he supposed to be doing again? What was so funny?
King wrapped the leash around his fingers and gently tugged the showman closer to his face. Tenna was so close that his nose grazed the side of King's head, and the CRT could feel his internal fans whirling around furiously trying to cool him down from his sudden overheating. Wait, why did he feel so warm-?
“HAHA! Oh, Tenna! How obedient you are. I honestly didn't expect you to do as I said,” King spoke in a low growl, making Tenna shiver. “If only I had inducted you into my court sooner. You're certainly better than my previous jester…the old fool would never obey me. He'd never let me do this to him.”
King threw his head back in laughter once more as Tenna struggled to grasp what he was saying. Had he done good? The TV host’s screen started to change into a pink hue, and the fans inside his body began to spin even faster. King’s praise echoed endlessly in his blocky head, further fogging up Tenna’s already overwhelmed mind.
“I…need t-to wash up…” Tenna said without thinking, without even meaning to say anything. Wait, hadn't he already told King this just a few minutes ago? Besides, Tenna didn't want to leave, he wanted to continue making King laugh.
King stopped laughing, looking down at Tenna for a moment. “Hmm…” King squinted, and then chuckled to himself.
“Ah…you are a mess right now,” King used his thumb to wipe a bit of the pie off the TV host's face, taking his thumb to his mouth to lick. Tenna couldn't help but stare at the sight.
“You're dismissed.” King waved his hand and let go of the leash. Tenna stood up shakily and staggered out of the cell in a haze. The CRT didn't even realize he still had the collar on him, the leash dragging behind him like a tired tail. King didn't attempt to correct him, much too busy licking the last dollop of cream off his thumb.