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Summary
Maybe having an in-house bar isn’t such a good idea anymore. By now, Tenna can’t count how many times he’s embarrassed himself in front of his staff. It’s not a good look. It wasn’t a good look the first time around but now it’s a pattern, and patterns mean problems, and Tenna has enough of those already. The last thing he needs are his employees questioning his authority or worse, thinking Spamton is the reasonable one out of the two. They have no idea the things Spamton does in the privacy of his own office. Or home. Or Hell, even out in public. It’s just the smug bastard knows how to play it smooth. But Tenna will show them. He’ll show them all. Eventually. He’ll show ‘em something, alright. Not sure what. Oh, God – the floor is not his friend at the moment. Tenna nearly goes tumbling straight into it, his feet tripping over nothing, but finds a wall to lean on instead. It doesn’t help that he’s got his arms full of, well, Spamton.
Series
- Part 1 of Spamtenna Week 2025