Chapter Text
Thanks to the help of a Virovirokun, Tenna finds the train station.
"HOW DO I GET A," he starts to say, but before he can even ask about tickets, something smacks him in the back, hard, and he tumbles to the ground face-first. Tenna groans as he climbs to his feet, turning to find a Tasque looking at him like a plaything. "BAD [[little meow meow]]." 'Little'??? "SHOO!! GO [[play hunter]] ELSEWHERE!!" The Tasque stares at him like it has no idea what he's saying and still wants to eat him. Tenna begins to back away, slowly, and, to his dismay, the Tasque matches his pace as it stalks closer. "HELP. [[Anybody there]]?"
"Go on! Go!" Tenna's savior chases away the threat, but then their face turns to displeasure once they notice it was SPAMTON they were saving. "Oh. It's you."
"HAEAHAEAH," Tenna laughs nervously. (That's Spamton's laugh, and he gets hit with a pang of familiarity before he shakes it off.) "[[Thank you]] FOR THE [[press button for assistance]]."
The Swatchling raises an eyebrow. "Don't make me chase you away too."
Uh oh.
"I WANT TO [[buy now!!!]] A TICKET, PLEASE."
The Swatchling shakes their head. "You know you're not allowed."
"I'M [[BAND]]??" Tenna realizes with horror.
"You know what you did."
(He doesn't, and that's the problem.)
"OH." He inches toward the door. "OK."
So… that's a bust.
But Tenna can't just sit around, twiddling his thumbs, waiting for Spamton to come to him. What if Spamton never does? What if he decides he likes Tenna's life better?
Tenna's got an idea. It's, uh, not a good one. But nothing better springs to mind…
Fourteen minutes later, he's tearing through the streets of Cyber City with not one, but five Tasques on his tail. Very bad. Very bad idea… but strangely fitting for Spamton.
"HELP!" he shouts, hand around his mouth to project better as he throws open the station doors with the most force he can. "THEY ARE [[trying to eat me]]!"
The Swatchling swears, tearing off after one of the Tasques as it splits off from the group. Tenna dives under a bench, huddling—hopefully the Tasques didn't notice, or have found a more interesting target.
There's an awfully tempting suitcase right there with its zipper half-open. The Plugboy on the bench he's under just scrambled to stand on top of it, screaming their head off, so Tenna's got an opening.
Nobody's gonna look in there. Hopefully the Plugboy won't notice their luggage is a little heavier than it's supposed to be.
Spamton's discovering just HOW beloved Tenna is. Sure, his employees like him, but that's different from the Zapper who just let him cut in line.
He slams his hands down on the ticket counter. "I need to get to Cyber City."
The Shadowguy working there seems starstruck. Spamton, meanwhile, is realizing he forgot how to speak Shadowguy at some point while he was living in the dumpster, so he stands there and smiles until the Shadowguy hands him a ticket.
"Thanks," he mumbles, clutching the ticket as he speeds over to stand just behind the yellow line.
Conveniently, Spamton got there just in time, because the train arrives mere minutes later. INconveniently, he bangs his head on the roof as he tries to get in.
"Damn it." He rubs at the sore spot. "Alright. Think gloobier."
Glooby. Hey. That's not hard. He's been living in a dumpster for years because neither Tenna nor his family would want him back like this. His body is irreversibly changed. His body, which is frail and defenseless, is currently housing Tenna, who's never been a puppet before and is probably lost and…
Spamton shuts off the thought there. Small enough to fit.
People stare at him as he slinks into a corner seat, but for once, it's not "OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT THING??" It's "is that beloved TV host Ant Tenna??"
"Excuse me?" a tiny voice asks, and Spamton looks down to see a little Ambyu-Lance, tiny needle and all, gazing up at him with… well. Adoration.
"Hi." He smiles.
"Can you sign this?" She unrolls a poster with Tenna on it.
"I don't have a pen." Spamton frowns.
A Pippins at the other end of the train car pipes up, digging no less than seven pens out of his bag. "Do any of these work?"
"Uh, yeah," Spamton says, picking a glittery pink one because it feels like what Tenna would use. He sticks out his tongue, trying to remember what Tenna's signature looks like. Big T, with a swoop over there… "There you go, kid."
"Thank you!" she squeaks, going back to her mother with her prize, who smiles and pats her siren.
Spamton's always liked kids. He's not one of those people who "always wanted to be a parent"—especially because Addisons can't reproduce, which means adoption would be the default—but… if he had the opportunity… with someone he really liked… he wouldn't turn it down.
Not that it'd ever happen. After all, there's only ever been one for him.
The suitcase seemed like a good idea at the time. (And it was! The security Swatchling had no idea!) But now, after ten minutes of being curled up in a dark space surrounded by someone else's (hopefully) clean laundry, Tenna's starting to get antsy.
Is it worth it to try to get out now, or should he wait until the Plugboy disembarks? This train only has one stop, so Tenna'll get to TV World either way, but it's more a question of comfort.
And. Again. Spamton's banned from the train. Who knows what'd happen if he crawled out of some poor Cyber World civilian's luggage like a moth emerging from a cocoon? Tenna could get thrown out the window, and then where would he be?
Stranded. Obviously.
No. He needs to stay put, and to stay QUIET, no matter how badly this laundry detergent makes him want to sneeze. Tenna can handle another five minutes. That's nothing.
…right?
Nobody else wants to get off the train. Spamton wonders what they're waiting for.
Oh. Wait. They're all looking at him. They want to let Tenna off first.
"See you around, folks," he says as he gets off the train and expands back to Tenna's normal size by a couple feet. Only THEN do the other passengers from the end car begin to shuffle out.
People REALLY like Tenna, huh?
…being Tenna's normal size is NOT conducive to the front doors of the train station.
Alright. Glooby, and then LESS glooby, and Spamton's back outside in Cyber City. It feels like it's been forever, even though he was here yesterday.
Where would he be if he was Tenna?
Spamton's dumpster's as good a place to start as any.
When he enters the backstreets of the city and footsteps echo behind him, Spamton expects it to be another fan looking for an autograph. (Can't be someone looking to jump him, because he's TENNA, and it'd be stupid to jump someone over ten feet tall, he could crush someone with ease.)
And then he takes a quick little peek over his shoulder. He doesn't stop walking, and speeds up—Tenna's Weatherduo followed him.
At least, he tries to.
So why are his steps getting shorter and shorter?
Spamton sighs, accepts his gloobiness, and turns to face the consequences.
"Lanino! Elnina! I left you in charge of the studio," he says, more of a question than a statement.
The weatherpeople exchange a look, standing in front of him with identical crossed arms.
"You're not Tenna," Elnina says—it hits Spamton like a sack of bricks.
"Haha! What!" He puts on his best that's absurd look.
"We know Tenna," Lanino says. "He's our boss, sure, but he's our friend first."
"And you're not him," Elnina says.
"Of course I—"
Lanino raises a single eyebrow above his sunglasses.
"We know you're not Tenna, but this guess'll still sound CRAZY if we're wrong," Elnina says, exchanging another glance with Lanino before looking back up at Spamton. "Tenna used to know this little spam e-mail."
"More than know," Lanino snorts.
"Tenna loved him," Elnina corrects herself.
Ha. That's a good one. They've gotta be saying this just to coax Spamton into revealing himself. No way that's true.
"Not anymore!" he says instead of acknowledging, matched beat-for-beat by funnytext that simply says "⊘ NO ⊘."
"Uh-huh," Elnina says, clearly unconvinced.
"So why are you here?" Lanino asks.
"Uh."
"There's only a handful of reasons why Ant Tenna would go sprinting out of the studio in the middle of the work day, and few of them involve ending up on a train to Cyber City," Elnina says. "In fact!" She gasps dramatically. "I can think of only one."
"We said not to go after him," Lanino says. "That it'd only hurt you. And you agreed." He leans forward. "So why now?"
Oh.
…those bastards.
So it's THEIR fault Tenna never came looking—
Okay. Not the time. Focus.
'Why now?'
"I had a bad feeling," he ends up saying.
"About Spamton?"
He can't stop himself from flinching.
"Yeah. About"—just say the name, it doesn't matter it's in Tenna's voice, it doesn't matter he never thought he'd hear Tenna say it again, it doesn't matter that it still isn't even really Tenna—"Spamton." He spits it like a bad taste in his mouth.
"How'd you know he'd be here?"
"Where else?" Spamton says. "It's—" The only place he could afford to be? "—his home."
"What are you going to do if he's not here?"
Spamton laughs. "Well, it's a big city. Hard to guarantee anything!"
"How long are you going to keep looking?"
As long as it takes. "Until I'm sure he's not here."
"Then we're coming with you," Lanino says.
"That's… really, not necessary," Spamton says, trying to sound light and unaffected. "You two should really be running the show in my absence! There's a reason you're my right-hand… people!"
Elnina shrugs. "I left Battat in charge."
Fucking who? After a quick rifle through all his memories of his old coworkers, that name doesn't ring a bell.
"I'm sure Battat will do a great job," he lies.
"Really?" Lanino asks. "You've never put him in a position of power before."
"First time for everything, haha," Spamton says.
Battat had better not burn down Tenna's studio while he's gone, or Spamton will have a lot more to answer for than running away from TV World.
TV World looks a lot bigger when you're only a few feet tall. Tenna may be back home, but it's home in a way he's never seen.
He's already gotten a few odd looks—and a scream from the Plugboy when he crawled out of their suitcase at the TV World station. (If he had Tenna levels of money, he'd have paid them for the inconvenience, but Spamton's pockets hold only lint.)
"I NEED TO [[CONVERSATION]] WITH [[TV]]." Tenna frowns. "TALK TO. [[CRT]]." Can… Spamton not say his name?
"Youse can get in line," the Zapper outside the studio doors says. "No. Really. Get in line." To Tenna's dismay, they gesture to a stupidly long line.
Okay. So that's going to be harder than anticipated.
(Which is nothing new for Spamton, Tenna's discovered over the past few hours.)
Well, there's a perfectly good bush here Tenna can squeeze himself into.
The SECOND the doors open, he's sprinting inside.
"HEY!" the Zapper shouts, but Tenna's running headlong for the nearest doorway, because Spamton's proportions mean that every room has at least one viable hiding spot.
He stays wedged behind the vending machine in the breakroom for five minutes, but nobody comes looking for him, so it must be time to go looking for… well, himself.
If he were here, he'd be on set.
But Tenna's chair is empty, and a quick scan around the room doesn't reveal any large TV Darkners. His changing room's empty, too. (Spamton's body could barely reach the keypad.)
Tenna wanders back on set, tugging at the skirt of Corey, the Rudinn who handles the scheduling.
"WHERE IS [[Cathode]]?"
"What?" They stare at him like he's… well, some sort of weird little puppet who speaks in riddles, he supposes.
"[[TV]] MAN."
"Tenna? He sprinted out half an hour ago." Corey frowns. "I don't know where he went, but Lanino and Elnina went with him." They stop, squinting at him. "Say, do I know you?"
"NO," Tenna says quickly, exiting the sound stage as fast as he can.
Where could Spamton possibly be?
"Where are we going?" Elnina asks, keeping surprisingly good pace with the much taller Spamton.
"His dumpster."
"What, like, he owned a dumpster?" Lanino asks, struggling a little more to keep up and sounding almost nervous as he asks.
"Lives in," Spamton says, and refuses to elaborate.
"How do you KNOW that?" Lanino asks, sounding almost frustrated.
"I had a… dream, or something," Spamton says, failing to come up with anything else.
Oh. 'I've been keeping tabs' was right there. Now it sounds like he and Tenna are psychically connected… (Or Tenna's just crazy.)
"Has that… happened a lot?" Lanino asks.
"No." Now don't ask any other follow-up questions. Please.
The dumpster in question is just as he left it. Well, mostly—Spamton's pretty sure he didn't leave the NEO blueprint out on top. Tenna definitely saw that.
Tenna's not here. Of course. Why WOULD he be? Why would anyone stay in this shitty dumpster, whose roof is the kind of dented-in-the-corner where, when it rains, there's a constant drip-drip-drip.
"Where should we try next?" Elnina asks. It's gentle.
"We could ask around." People notice when Spamton's there. It's hard not to.
Of course, Spamton didn't mean—
"Hi! Have you seen Spamton recently?"
—ASK HIS SIBLINGS.
"Oh." Blue's smile doesn't look quite right. It's a sales tactic all Addisons teach themselves to do, and Blue's has always been flawless. "Yes, I have."
She has?
"He was over by Orange's shop—a few blocks that way." She points with her entire arm.
Why was Tenna over there? (Did he make the same mistake as the Weatherduo?)
"Now, is there anything else I can help you with toda—" And then Blue stops, and her smile fades. "What are you doing here?" (She's looking at 'Tenna.')
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" It hurts to ask.
"Yes," Blue almost snaps. "You knew Spamton. My brother. Where were you when he needed you?"
"He didn't need me," Spamton says before he can stop himself.
Blue scoffs, eyes rolled to the Heavens. (Highly unprofessional.) "And how would you even know that if you weren't here?"
"NEITHER WERE YOU."
Blue freezes.
"No," she says. Not like she's denying what he's saying. Like she's denying something her mind is presenting as fact.
Oh, shit.
Tenna wouldn't say that. Tenna wouldn't fucking KNOW that.
SPAMTON would.
Before he can try to get himself out of the hole he just dug, Blue speaks.
"That wasn't him," she realizes.
"What?"
"You're him." Her eyes lock onto where his would be, if Tenna's body had eyes.
"What are you talking about?" he lies.
"Spamton."
"What do you mean, I'm Spamton?" Spamton says.
To his horror: Blue begins to cry.
Spamton's never seen that. None of his siblings have ever cried before—at least not in front of him.
"I'm sorry" isn't what he means to say. But it's what comes out.
"We thought you died—"
Fuck it.
He falls to his knees on the city sidewalk and hugs her.
"How are you Tenna??" she mumbles into Tenna's jacket. She sniffles.
"I don't know!!" Spamton says.
"How are you here?"
"Train."
Blue laughs. "You KNOW that's not what I meant."
"It's a long story."
"Not surprised…" She sighs. "I really did see… well, must've been Tenna, earlier. You… he was a puppet."
"Happens."
"It really doesn't…" she says, but lets it go. "You're looking for him?"
"I don't know how to swap back," Spamton admits.
"And you think he might?" Blue asks.
"Nah."
"Oh. …you just wanted to see him?"
"Irrelevant."
She snorts. "Okay."
Spamton winces as he gets back to his feet. Tenna's knees aren't doing so well. (Tenna can still age, in whatever way a TV Darkner can… but puppets don't.)
Blue pats her bob, making sure it's not messy. (Very Addison.) "I… I'd come with you, but someone's gotta watch my shop!" She laughs, but the moment she turns back to her shop, she sighs. "You know what? Fine. The people of Cyber City can do without new shoes for one afternoon." Spamton gasps, and she rolls her eyes. "So who's your friends?"
Oh. Oh, yeah.
Lanino and Elnina look away as he looks over, comedically whistling in harmony like they're pretending they didn't see anything.
"Tenna's employees," he says.
"Tenna's FRIENDS!" Lanino says, forgetting to pretend he wasn't listening. "I mean…" Elnina groans.
"I'm Spamton's sister, Blue," Blue says, oblivious to the very odd energy happening. "I sell shoes in every size! I probably sell yours."
"(Stop advertising)," Spamton says out of the corner of his mouth.
"Oh, oops," she says.
"Elnina. Lanino." Spamton points to each of them. "Tenna's weatherpeople. And friends."
"It's nice to meet you. What's your professional email?" Blue pulls out her phone, catches Spamton eying her, and puts it away again. "Business card…?" she tries again, quieter. "(Okay. Later, then.)"
(Spamton knows that's a promise.)
Over the course of the last hour, Tenna's realized, with dawning horror, he has no idea where Spamton in his body would be. This isn't a Big Shot Spamton, even—the last available memory to reach for—but a Spamton who's been living in a dumpster. Who knows how he's reacting to being Tenna?
On the BRIGHT side, Tenna hasn't seen himself on the news.
Slowly, he's been able to gain information, because Ant Tenna is physically large AND very famous, and so quite difficult to miss. Therefore, people have seen him. With a breadcrumb trail, he finds his way to…
Looking for Tenna is hard. Spamton G. Spamton has always been noticeable, with the bright red suits he used to wear back when he lived in TV World, and now, with the horrifying puppet visage. So this SHOULD be easy. The fact that it isn't means that Tenna's been… hiding?
While they're walking, Blue blurts out, "He got hit by a car," and presses her lips together firmly when Spamton turns to stare at her. "He's okay! I think!"
"What do you MEAN."
"I say 'hit,' that's a little exaggeration," she says hastily. "Clipped! Clipped, at most."
"He got clipped by a car. And you waited this long to tell me?"
"He got up and ran away," Blue defends. "Surely…! If he was truly hurt, he wouldn't have been—"
"Able to??" Spamton rubs a hand across Tenna's screen with a sigh. "Alright! He BETTER be okay!"
(What happens if Tenna, in Spamton's body…)
"Glooby," Elnina blurts, and Spamton jumps. Sure enough, he's a couple feet smaller than he should be.
Tenna's fine! He has to be.
"What's 'glooby'?" Blue whispers.
"Sad," Lanino says, in distinctly NOT a whisper, and Spamton glares. "I mean, he's fine, nothing's wrong," he adds passive-aggressively.
"Exactly! Nothing's wrong! We'll find Tenna, I'll switch back"—to his less-than-ideal puppet body—"and then…" Then what? Go back to living in a dumpster? Spamton kind of doubts Tenna would take him back just like that, even if evidence suggests that Tenna's happy he's alive.
"It'll all work out," Blue says.
Yeah…
The Weatherduo take the lead next, asking most of the questions to Cyber City strangers, some of which recognize 'Tenna' and some of which don't.
"I saw him go that way, chased by stray Tasques," someone eventually says, and now the group's finally headed in a solid direction.
And that direction, as it turns out:
"The train station."
Tenna must've gone to see Spamton.
"THE [[midnight train, going anywhere]]."
Tenna frowns. (Close enough…?)
Spamton must've gone to see Tenna.
Okay. New problem. If Spamton gets on a train BACK to TV World, what's stopping Tenna from heading back to Cyber City? What if they miss each other AGAIN?
Spamton's absent-mindedly patting Tenna's pockets when he feels something.
Oh, that's… that's a phone.
If he was in his own body right now, his vision would fill with gray static.
As it is, Spamton's breath is caught in Tenna's chest.
Never mind the last call he made was to an uncaring god who didn't pick up the phone.
Spamton's got an idea, and if he wants it to work, he needs to make this call.
He half-stumbles over to a bench outside the train station, doing his best to not look like he's on the verge of an anxiety attack. Tenna never had those. That's a Spamton special.
Blue taps his hand, code asking if he's okay with touch. He taps back, and she sits beside him, leaning the weight of her entire body against Spamton.
"I need to stop him from getting on that train," Spamton says.
"How?" Blue looks up at him.
He slides the phone out of his pocket, ignoring the way his fingers tighten around its plastic casing. It's not as vintage as the black rotary phones he used to keep in his apartment and dressing room, but it's probably outdated by Lightner standards—it's still got buttons. Must've been made specially for Tenna, because the buttons are just the right size for Tenna's big gloved fingers. "Blue? Can you look up the number of the front desk of the TV World train station?"
"Absolutely." She doesn't as much as send him a questioning glance, reading it aloud as soon as she finds it.
Spamton's foot taps the ground impatiently as the line rings, and then…
"Hello?" someone answers.
"Hello, this is Ant Tenna."
"Mr. Tenna!" the voice says. "How can I help?"
"Listen, I need you to do something for me."
Tenna stares at the hand held out in front of him like it's a personal offense.
"I [[purchis]]ED A TICKET." With Dark Dollars he'd snagged from his own dressing room, no less.
"I'm sorry," the Zapper says. "I've been told not to let you on."
Again?
"WHY AM I [[locked out]]."
"Special request," the Zapper says. "From Ant Tenna himself."
From…
Spamton.
"He said to tell you he's on his way here right now. I'm not allowed to let you on the train, and I'm not allowed to let you leave either."
Spamton's coming.
"OKAY," Tenna says finally. Spamton's short little legs give him some difficulty climbing up onto the nearest bench. The Ambyu-Lance sitting on the other end gives him a look, and Tenna remembers that not only has Spamton been living in a dumpster, but he smells like it, too.
Spamton's coming for TENNA.
Spamton's not someone who's ever been super patient.
And yet, the train ride back to TV World has to be the longest moment he's ever been trapped in.
Nobody tries to get Tenna's autograph—thank the prophecy, because Spamton's leg has been bouncing so hard this entire time that he wouldn't have been able to do a straight line. This time, he's grateful they wait for Ant Tenna to get off first, because…
There he is.
Spamton's stupid little damaged puppet body. Tenna, looking around the room and kicking his feet, which dangle from the bench, too short to touch the ground.
(Behind him, the Zapper who must've been keeping Tenna from leaving.)
Spamton realizes he stopped dead in his tracks when Lanino bumps into him from behind.
("Ow," Lanino mumbles.)
Maybe that's what makes Tenna look over…?
Tenna, puppet jaw hanging open almost comically, locks eyes with… well, Spamton's eyeless TV screen. Tenna lifts himself off the bench.
Immediately trips.
Falls on his face.
And screams in frustration.
"OH!" Spamton shouts, laughing as he sprints over.
Tenna pushes himself up into a sitting position. "OW." Spamton would bet anything Tenna wishes he could pout right now. "THAT [[AUGH IT BURNS]]." The appropriate, very familiar 'that wasn't what I meant to say' frown, now from Tenna instead of Spamton.
"Now you understand what my life is like!" Spamton says, dropping to his knees beside the puppet.
"SHUT UP," Tenna grumbles loudly… but he lets the TV scoop Tenna into his lap. "WHAT TOOK. YOU. SO LONG."
"I got here as fast as I could," Spamton says, aware he sounds like one of those TV dramas Tenna's always filming.
"SLOW."
"Hey!" Spamton scoffs, unable to hide the grin.
The Weatherduo come up beside them. "We helped," Elnina smiles.
"GOOD. ON HI S OWN…" Tenna visibly focuses on what he's trying to say. "HE WOULD'VE [[struggle]]D."
"Hey!" Spamton says again. "Rude!"
"YES."
Blue sits down on the bench Tenna abandoned. "Glad you're okay," she says with a half-smile.
"OH. YOUR [[next of kin]]!" Tenna says, looking to Spamton.
"Yeah, turns out they didn't, uh, all hate me."
"DUH."
"How was I supposed to know?" Spamton defends himself.
Tenna gives him a look.
"He's right," Blue says. "You avoided us! For years! We would've helped!"
"How was I supposed to know?" Spamton repeats.
"ASK!" she shouts, exasperated.
"STUPID," says a little puppet voice, and Spamton turns to stare at Tenna, who looks a little too pleased.
"Gee! Thanks!" He does his best impression of Tenna, complete with cutely tilted head propped up on entwined fingers, and Tenna, instead of hitting his arm like Spamton would've done, laughs.
"HAEAHAEAHAEAH!" Tenna claps a hand over his mouth like it's the first time he's heard it. (He hasn't laughed the entire time he's been in Spamton's body?)
"Of course it's cute on YOU," Spamton sighs.
"IT WAS ALWAYS [[cute as a button]], YOU WERE JUST [[mean]]," Tenna insists.
"You were the only one who ever said so," Spamton says.
"MAYBE. BUT I'M RIGHT." Tenna grins.
"Oh."
Spamton looks over at Blue, who covers her mouth.
"What?"
"Nothing!" she says quickly.
"No, you had something," Spamton says.
"I thought… you two… were business partners," she says, and Spamton has a feeling he knows what's coming next. "Not… life partn—"
"We're not!" Spamton says. "Weren't."
"SPAMMY?"
Hearing that nickname come out of his OWN mouth is a jumpscare.
"Yeah?"
Tenna stares up at him with those big black eyes through mismatched lenses. "I WANTED TO [[bee]]."
Spamton wonders if Tenna's had a history of hallucinations, because there's no way this is real.
A little puppet arm stretches way up, and a little puppet arm pats his face. "SPAMTON."
"Hm?" he says dazedly.
"I. LOVE. [[u]]."
Oh! Great! Definitely hallucinating.
Tenna groans, and then yanks Spamton down by the tie so fast he hardly knows what's happening. And then—
BONK.
Tenna's teeth smack into Spamton's screen.
…Was that supposed to be a kiss?!
"Ow," Spamton mumbles.
"OH," Tenna frowns.
"…try again?" Spamton asks.
"Wooo!" Elnina yells. Spamton glares, and she looks away… and then can't help but look again.
Spamton takes Tenna's face in just one of his big hands (one is enough), letting Tenna still pull him in by the tie. The plastic teeth don't make for a particularly good thing to kiss…
But Spamton doesn't mind.
"I thought that might change us back," he admits when nothing happens.
"ME TOO." Tenna frowns, then shrugs. "I'M YOU [[4]]EVER."
Spamton makes a face. "I wouldn't want that for you."
"I CAN MANAGE."
"Nobody should have to," he grumbles.
Tenna pats his hand. "I'LL BE OK."
"I'm gonna have to learn how to direct. And produce," Spamton realizes.
"I'M A [[#1 Rated]] TEACHER," Tenna says.
"You'd better be." Spamton rolls his eyes.
"WHEN DO WE START?" Tenna jokes. (At least, Spamton thinks he's joking—a little hard to tell with the puppet body.)
"Tomorrow?" he asks, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a soft, clean bed.
"OK."
"Did you damage my— the jaw?" Spamton asks, noticing a conspicuous dent for the very first time that wasn't there yesterday. He runs a gloved thumb along it.
"CAR," Tenna supplies unhelpfully, and Spamton only knows what he means because his sister kindly informed him earlier that Tenna got clipped by a car.
"You that bad at road safety?"
"NO ROADS IN TV WORLD."
"It's LIMP," Spamton says in dismay as Tenna stops talking and the jaw falls open again.
"FIXABLE."
"How???"
"MONEY."
"I guess?" Spamton says, and Tenna laughs Spamton's laugh again. Spamton kisses him.
So… things could be worse.
They're going to have to deal with the stares that follow when "Ant Tenna" walks home from the train station carrying a damaged puppet like it's something precious, and they keep making jokes that are objectively terrible and laughing anyway. But not today.
Blue left them at the train station, making Spamton promise to keep in touch… and maybe she'd even bring the others along to visit the TV studio, but no promises! Spamton had hugged her.
"I'm gonna have to get used to this," she'd said, looking up at him… but that would've been true if he'd been a little puppet, too.
Spamton kind of wishes Lanino and Elnina had left too, but the Weatherduo, who must've known they were third- and fourth-wheeling, insisted on coming back to the studio with them, "since we're all going in the same direction." Still… Tenna managed to make it feel like it was just the two of them.
At the last minute, Tenna had said, "TV CAN WAIT," and pointed down his street.
"Home?" Spamton had asked.
"HOME," Tenna had said, jaw wobbling slightly as he nodded.
Something that had struck Spamton, standing in Tenna's fancy apartment with a stinky puppet, was that he's been living in a dumpster. Tenna wriggled in his arms, trying to get down, but Spamton saw his eyes on the bed.
"Bath time."
(He's kind of jealous that Tenna's the one who got to experience the shower he'd been dreaming about for years—it's not exactly the easiest to get clean when you live in a dumpster—but at the same time, watching a little Tenna splash in the bubbles he'd insisted on… very cute.)
"You've got nothing in my— I mean, your size," Spamton had amended, only for a cleaned Tenna to sheepishly gesture to the closet. At the back, Spamton found a box labelled with his name, and inside was not only every piece of clothing he'd ever left at Tenna's, but also the mugs Tenna used to keep in his size for morning coffee when he stayed over, his old sketchbook stuffed with loose pages… and a little blue pipis that hummed melodically when he touched it. (Now, that's not normal, but he wasn't about to investigate.)
And they're definitely still too big for a puppet who's six inches shorter than he used to be. Spamton had stifled a laugh as Tenna stood there with pants dragging on the floor and shirt sleeves well past his hands, but Tenna had just insisted they'd get the stuff tailored.
Spamton had changed into comfier clothes, shaking his head at the (somehow) oversized TV Time-branded clothes Tenna uses as pajamas. Tenna, meanwhile, whooped when Spamton unbuttoned his shirt.
"I CAN'T WOLF WHISTLE," Tenna had said, as if that was an apology.
"It's YOUR body," Spamton had said, baffled.
"BUT YOU'RE IN IT," Tenna had argued back. "ALSO… I'M [[200°]]. …I MEAN, HOT."
"Been a while," Spamton had said. "For me, I mean."
Tenna had looked down at himself. "WELL."
"Come on."
Tenna had looked back up at Spamton. "YOU ARE STILL [[200°]]."
"Haha!" Spamton laughed, but he had the distinct feeling the screen was red. "You're the only one who thinks that."
"AND I AM STILL [[right angle]]," Tenna grinned.
It's only after they get into bed that Spamton realizes: it's still light out. It's 3:44 pm.
"You said 'TV can wait,' but it's early for bed," he starts to say.
Tenna clings onto him even harder. "SLEEP."
"It's 3:45—"
"SLEEP."
"Okay."
And they sleep through the afternoon and the night without interruption. (Best sleep Spamton's had in years.)
He wakes up being held.
Without opening his eyes, he comes to one conclusion: that's a puppet body, with puppet fingers tightly gripping Tenna's PJs, and a slightly broken puppet jaw hanging wide open.
He's a little disappointed.
Being Tenna was great. Stressful, but fun.
Being Spamton is JUST stressful.
He hasn't even moved and he already misses being tall.
He had a plan to be tall once. Sure, the blueprint also had an armored body, and wings that let him reach the Heavens.
Maybe… there's still some merit to that.
Tenna shifts under him, lets out a quiet groan, and freezes.
"Spammy?" comes out in Tenna's voice.
"I'M [[counting sheep]], [Cathode]," he says, eyes still firmly shut.
"No, you're not," Tenna says, a hint of delight in his voice.
"MHM."
Tenna's fingers dance across his stomach, but Spamton doesn't laugh.
"Oh," Tenna audibly frowns. "That makes sense. If you can't hurt, I can't tickle you either."
Spamton blows a raspberry.
"Hey!"
Something gently touches his face, just above his eye. And then again, on the corner of his jaw.
Spamton peeks one eye open. Tenna kisses his face again. "[[Cease and desist]]," he protests.
"Nuh uh 💞," Tenna says, with funnytext.
"[[CRT]]."
"Was that supposed to be my name?" Tenna asks, kissing Spamton's cheek. "Use your words—" He realizes that doesn't always go well. (Kiss to the forehead.) "Ask me to stop," he corrects, "and I will." (Kiss to the nose.)
Spamton squirms, so Tenna squeezes him a little tighter. He groans.
"I'm not letting you leave me again." Tenna kisses him on the teeth, light and quick, just like the others. "You're stuck with me, got it?"
That doesn't sound so bad.