Chapter Text
“Don’t you recognize...?”
Following the incident in Tenna’s bonus room, Spamton swore he would stay as far away from that broken CRT as possible. He was a respectable salesman, and intended to be treated as such. Nothing more and most certainly nothing less. It took him hours to scrub the foam out of the cervices of his suit jacket, and it still stained, not that it was really that noticeable amongst the years of grime built up on his tattered clothing. The sleeves were coming apart at the seams, and the once pitch black fabric now held a dark-brown coating to its coloring. It was scratchy and ill-fitting, but it had been the only thing he could find even close to his size. If Tenna couldn’t even bother to recognize him, then Spamton wouldn’t reach out. He didn’t need him anymore, hadn’t needed him for years. Sales were just fine, even if things were a bit slow. But! That would all change now that everyone had moved to Castle Town. Darkners from all sorts of fountains Spamton’s never visited before. That fancy-sounding blue guy seemed particularly gullible. New real-estate meant new customers and new people to sucker.
Spamton had just finished setting up shop on the edge of town (the fact that it was near a rather spacious trash-can being pure coincidence) when footsteps sounded out behind him. Quickly, he jumped into place, brushing himself off and preparing his pitch.
“Hey Every It’s Me! [Number One Rated Salesman1997] SPAM-” He was cut short as 10 HP was subtracted from his total, courtesy of the diamond shaped projectile thrown by the Ponman he’d startled. It’d hit him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. The poor thing ran off, frightened by the unsettling creature that jumped out from behind the bin. It looked rabid “LET THE [revolving doors] HIT YOU ON THE [out of your way-] ASSHOLE!” The addison shouted after it, however the ponman was already out of ear shot. Alright, no big deal, it was just one lost customer. They guy must’ve been delusional, running off like that without sticking around to hear his pitch. Yet, he just couldn’t shake the way it looked at him, as if he was disgusting. As if he was diseased or like he had something wrong with him. But that was ridiculous! Picking up an old, rusted mirror next to the bin he took a look at his reflection. There wasn’t anything different about him, was there? “I’m just as [brand new beauty products!] as I was back in the good ole days!” He muttered to himself, sitting back down next to his merchandise. Shake it off, big shot, plenty of other people will come by, just you wait.
Come by they did, and every single time the interaction was the same. A potential customer would come strolling down the street, and right as Spamton jumped out to offer his highly valued services, they’d either avoid eye contact all together or run off screaming. The salesman did manage to bully a Pippin into buying an old scratched DVD for $73 Kromer, the highest sale he’d made in a while due in part to the fact he took an extra $40 Kromer from their wallet when they weren’t looking. His back popped as he stood, each segmented vertebrae crackling with released tension. Letting out a sigh, Spamton exited his alleyway, thinking a break would do him some good. Believe it or not, having people run away from you in terror and disgust can hurt your feelings.
It would be an exaggeration to say he was “enjoying” his stroll around town, but he didn’t hate it either. What the salesman could really go for was a drink, but he was banned from the cafe. If he recalled correctly, it was because he was an “unstable scoundrel and impersonator who is never allowed in an establishment run by me” or some stupid bullshit like that. Swatch, Mr. High and Mighty, who was still selling Spamton’s old merch with the logo ripped off! Like he had any right to tell Spamton what to do when he was no better! At this rate it’d only be a matter of time until Queen throws him out too, bans him from all of Castle Town and leaves him to turn to stone on the outskirt of some fallen dark world alone with no family and no friends and no money and with nothing but some pipis and a shitty-
“Oh my, I’m so sorry! Didn’t mean to block your way!”
The familiar voice sliced through his thoughts like a knife. Lost in his aggressive and quite frankly a little obsessive rambling, Spamton hadn’t been watching where he was going, bumping straight into the last person in all of the dark he wanted to see, Mr. Ant Tenna. Well, at least thanks to his allegedly altered appearance, he had a way out of this.
“Yeah watch it [boob tube], I have [places, everyone, places!] to be...”
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Boob tube? Tenna wasn’t even sure what that meant, but clearly the man in front of him had taken great offense to the accidental altercation.
“Right! Of course, sorry, I’ll just uh-” Tenna stepped awkwardly to the side, staring down at the small darkner. Something about him just felt so...familiar. Like they should know each other. He wanted to just let it go, forget about it, but the feeling was already starting to eat away at him, and curiosity quickly got the better off him. He bent down, trying to get a closer look. Spamton took a step backwards. Ever heard of personal space? Well, no actually, looking back Tenna had never been one to leave people their personal bubble so in theory he really hadn’t. “Excuse me, before you go, I have to ask have we met before? You just seem so familiar. Maybe on a commercial, or...?”
“Depends, is a can of [insulating foam now only-] how you [meet and greet] everyone?” Spamton replied snarkily, avoiding eye contact. Thankfully, his glasses hid most of the details of his eyes, but you could still see his pupils through the smudged lenses.
A lightbulb went off. Literally. A PNG of a turned on lightbulb appeared briefly on Tenna’s screen. Of course, it all made sense now! Oh Tenna felt terrible, how could he not have realized sooner! What a fool he’d been not to see it before.
“Ah! You were with Kris and their friends earlier. I’m uhm, I’m sorry I called you a rat you just startled me and well we’ve been having a bit of a rodent problem in the studio, NOT THAT YOU LOOK LIKE A RAT OR ANYTHING that’s not what I meant what I meant was uhm well-” Tenna was only digging himself deeper into this hole, and upon that realization he shut his mouth. After a short pause, he started over. “What I mean to say is I’m sorry about that mishap. I do hope you can forgive me?” The show host’s voice was full of hope. If this guy didn’t say Tenna was forgiven he probably wouldn’t be able to handle it the CRT was a rather sensitive person and all and I mean it was his job to be popular and make people happy oh he’d just have to cancel himself and
“Yeah. [Forgive and forget] about it.”
“...Excellent! Say, I didn’t catch your name. I’d tell you mine, but I’m sure you already know! (It’s Mr. Tenna, just in case you didn’t for some reason)”. He smiled brightly, extending his hand only to shrink slightly when it wasn’t met.
“Wouldn’t you like to know, [TV Boy]. Look, I’ve gotta get [out of bounds] here, don’t [call] me,” and with that, the man was off without so much as a glance behind him. Rude! Sure, Tenna has sprayed him with foam and called him horrifying, but he’d just apologized for all of that! It was water under the bridge now, right! I mean the show host even offered him a handshake, and that suspicious darkner hadn’t acknowledged it physically or verbally! What a real sleezeball. At least now Tenna had figured out where he knew him from, so he could quell that question. As Tenna stood their, pondering whether or not this interaction would make it on to the Hot Gossip segment of his show, he overheard bits and pieces of a conversation between the man and prince Ralsei.
“There you are! Kris, Susie, and I have been looking everywhere for you. There’s a new area we need to explore, and Kris really wanted the Dealmaker, so I- What? Yes, okay, I will pay you to do it. $1 Kromer just like last time. What do you mean you’ll only do it for $2 Kromer why has the price increased? Please, can’t you just do this out of the kindness of your heart? Kris really needs you, and that’s what friends are for, because without them-...okay, I should have seen that response coming. Alright, here’s your money. Now come on, Spamton!”
The name made Tenna freeze in his tracks.
What?