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Summary
Spamton is stressed.
He would never admit it to anyone. He wasn't supposed to be stressed. He was supposed to be perfect.
But his benefactor has been breathing down his neck, convinced he’s been distracted from their goal, spending too much time playing friendship with people at the studio. It wasn’t his fault they liked to throw company parties – he considered it networking, building his image and brand. His benefactor considered it a distraction.
His time at TV Time Studios has been good, his life finally coming together into something to be proud of. It didn't matter that the paranoia was starting to eat him alive.
And of course, there was that damn TV.
