His mind felt hazy. Just a moment ago it had been in a deep, dreamless state until something dragged it out. Not quite out of the sleep, all he felt was a headache, some sort of shaking or shivering, and both amazingly and uncomfortably warm. He couldn’t really tell why he both shook and felt warm. Usually it was one or the other. Was this just luck? His tic trying something new? An earthquake?!
He decidedly didn’t want to deal with any of that. So he turned around in his laying spot with a frustrated noise. Leave him alone, weird shaking. He didn’t want to deal with it, let alone figure out what made it. The shoulder shaking did actually stop. A hum of approval buzzed through his throat. That was so much better. He snuggled closer to the squishy probably-a-pillow (He thinks? He couldn’t be sure. When did he go to sleep..?). Maybe if he fell back asleep then the headache would leave him as well.
The shaking returned like a terrible itch. This time something pulled at his shoulder. Some sort of voice blared in his non-existent ears. That tore him out of his sleep more than the hand touching him. A flicker of anxiety shot through him.
Spamton abruptly sat up, his eyes snapping open to the blurry world. This turned out to be a mistake. As he sat up, he bonked his head right onto another’s. If his headache was bad before, it didn’t compare to now. He made a loud ‘AUGH!’ and dropped his head to cradle it in his hands. The other person made the same noise but he couldn’t see them.
“Ow… Spamton, are you awake now?” Spamton tilted his head out of his hands, looking over to the voice. The figure blurred for a moment but he quickly registered who it was.
“…Binx..?” He mumbled, not quite sure. What was this? Oof, he shouldn’t have sat up so quickly. That hurt too much to be a dream. “BINX [My Old Buddy, My Old Pal]!! HAEAHA, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?? WHERE IS HERE? I CAN’T SEE A [$!?!] THING. WAIT…”
The usual disappointment over his vocal volume buzzed through him. He lifted his head and squinted at the blue other. Did he lose his glasses? Everything looked so dull coloured and blurry. Fiddling with his fingers, he felt a glitch run through him. He didn’t let his brother answer, “YOU [Abandoned For The Slime] M E. WhY ARE YOU HERE? IS THIS A [Hallucinations] AG4IN? WHY…”
He saw rather than felt Binx grab his hands. Blue fingers traced the false knuckles on his hands in a circular pattern. Spamton’s eyes followed the movement. Though he didn’t feel anything from it, the motion helped calm him some. Round, back, round, back, clockwise, counter-clockwise…
“I MISSED YOU.” Spamton said, quieter than before. Still not an indoor volume, but less overbearing. Without his glasses covering him, the tears bubbling at the corner of his eyes were easy to see. “I SHOULD HAVE [Come Back Soon!]”
Binx’s expression dropped in the corner of his sight. He patted Spamton’s hands, and spoke with mixed emotions, “Spamton… I don’t know what exactly has supposedly happened to you over the years, between now and whenever you come from… Regardless of believability… But… That’s not now. Whatever it is that happened hasn’t yet happened. I don’t know why you have been able to miss me.”
“oH.” Spamton used a dirty sleeve to wipe away the tears. He took a moment to mull over the words. He remembered now. The past, yes, the past. 1997. January. Overuse of magic and days of exhaustion catching up to him. Probably that hit to the head too. Ridiculously harassing his past self, which seemed stupid now that he has had a bit of sleep. One thing started to bug him. “WHY AM I INSIDE? YOU DON’T KNOW IF YOU C4N [[Trust]] [HonestMan].”
“Well, you are quite right that I can’t.” Ouch, that was blunt even for Binx. “But… Spam— Past you?— believes we can at least trust you and your word for now. Especially after your last… Comment. So… I want to trust you are both telling the truth.”
Spamton hummed. He hadn’t really noticed before, but Binx was really willing to go along with him when he was younger, wasn’t he? Could it be because he was the baby of the house or something? It seemed a little amusing that he hadn’t abused it much then.
His gaze turned to the house. He himself sat on one of the couches in the front room. A familiar blanket bunched around him. It must’ve been the source of warmth from earlier. Generally he could tell where everything was. Years of living in this house were only dulled from time, not erased. The entryway was to his right, the kitchen and dining room to his left. A step stool rested against one of the counters. Behind him ran a hallway and staircase up. He wondered if all his old painting things were still in the hall’s end room. Did Oakley ever take her guitar back? Wait, of course everything would be there. It’s still the past. If he dared tread upstairs, he knew he’d find the colour-coded and labeled bedrooms. Still left alone for when the whole family met for any holidays. Or if they all just preferred home for their meeting instead of Cyber Grill.
For only two people, the house was rather big. Supposedly their parents were quite successful, and that’s how they afforded the house. He didn’t really know, they were long gone. Even before the Call. The house seemed smaller when there used to be seven addisons living here years ago. Not long after it reached seven, there were five whole occupants left. There were four, and after that there were two. Then. Then, there was only one left in the family home. To his knowledge, it stayed that way until he went back to 1997. Now there were two.
Living in a big bunch was great and all. Until you started to feel crowded and wanted to do your own thing. Wanted privacy.
Now that he was in his old home, all the pushed down nostalgia and longing skittered in him. It clenched his throat and left it parched. He missed it, living with his siblings. He would give anything to have another movie filled night with buttered popcorn. A static-filled sigh left him, much like a tired dog would make. If the dog was a low quality video.
“Spamton?” Binx’s voice pulled him from his musings. He hadn’t even noticed his mind slipping from reality again. It felt odd to have someone interrupt it, and drag him from that void of thoughts. He turned to Binx, noticing that at some point he had stood and looked down at him. If only he had nerves in his hands, maybe he would have felt Binx stand up.
“YE S?”
“It’s Friday, and we were planning on going to the Cyber Grill.” Binx paused. He took a deep breath in. He continued, “Spam was wondering if you would want to join us there.”
“...”
“Otherwise you would be left alone in the house. You don’t… You don’t seem like you should be left to your own devices, regardless of why you’re here.”
“I SUPP— 1 5UPP053— I SUPPOSE!! I HAVEN;T BEEN THERE SINCE 1999… Th4T’S” He twitched and wondered if he should call Binx his younger brother. Spamton was technically older now. “[Lost Friends] [[Abandoned]]. WHERE ARE MY [$49.99 Prescription] [[Dealmaker]]? I CAN BARELY SEE.”
He watched as Binx repeated the word with furrowed eyebrows before nodding and stepping away. Spamton tried watching for a moment, then gave up bothering. He fiddled with his fingers again. His thoughts turned back to family.
Spamton wondered how his family had changed over the years, in his own lifetime. It didn’t really matter. But he couldn’t help but think about it. Going to the past was much like visiting relatives you saw only on holidays. They saw you and expected you to be the same as before. Nothing changed, stuck in a static moment of life and assumptions. Except. Now it was only him. He was a distant family member, expecting the same old and thought to be the same to anyone who would believe him. He would be in the wrong just as much as the believers. Still it differed, as he noticed things that the young him didn’t. He never saw how Binx trusted him so much, and certainly wasn’t aware of how willing to believe his past was. Is? Considering where he sat, perhaps he should consider speaking of the past as now rather than then. He likely couldn’t go back to his time, for the foreseeable future.
He chuckled at the thought.
Fear of being an outsider to his siblings wormed through him. Even after the fallout between most of them, he had still been family to them. Doubt was to be expected. Certainly it would take time for them to all be convinced of the absurdity of time travel. Especially with how he looked. Little Spam growing to become what looked like a sickly, black market dealing, media stereotypical druggie? Complete with the manic behaviour and constant twitching? Laughable. Yael wouldn’t believe it. Pascal neither. Oakley he wasn’t sure about, and clearly Binx already sat on the fence. Spam? He would see. Would Spam believe him or did he just pity him?
Spamton’s vision cleared with pink, orange, and yellow hues. It was jarring for a moment before his mind registered why it happened. “OH! THANKS.”
“Of course.”
The pause of silence didn’t stick around. A third voice joined the room. “Oh good. He’s awake just in time!”
“[[Rise And Shine Sleepyhead!]]” Spamton looked behind at the doppelgänger. The Spam of this time came from the hallway into the living room. He too twiddled his fingers much like Spamton, but his hands weren’t made of plastic. He wore white flats instead of the green heels from earlier, but otherwise looked the same.
Nothing more jarring after a nap than to see yourself without a mirror. A reflection that didn’t flip or copy you exactly. Even his magic sorta-clones didn’t feel the same strange way. They were too small and never looked exactly like him. Had he always looked so… Nerdy? Tiny? Like a walking ball of raw cotton wearing clothes? Sure he had seen Spam earlier, but he had been running off of solely the high of success at that point. Really, he should have passed out when he first went back in time. It turned out time travel back almost 3 whole decades took a lot of energy.
“How did you sleep? You didn’t sleep long. Just an hour. We’re late at this point, so it’s good Binx woke you.”
Binx left the area, saying something about needing different shoes and giving a thumbs up to Spam. Spam returned one in kind with a smile.
“I SLEPT [Like A] [Ga-Ga] [Baby]!!!” This was like a literal and worse version of projecting on Kris. “W3 ARE GOING 2 ThE CYBER GRILL? [New Year's Resolutions!]”
As Spamton spoke, he had an idea of what day it could be. Regret over his two second thought agreement filled him. Maybe, he thought, he didn’t actually want to deal with the reality of being ‘other’ to the rest of his family. This was a terrible idea. But he already agreed and didn’t want to— No, he couldn’t back out. Staying alone in this house would kill him more than his family could.
“Oh! Binx actually convinced you? It was my idea.” So he had heard from Binx. “I’m glad you agreed! You just— You kinda—”
“L0OK LIKE [Behave Like A Slime]?? [Hungering For Great Deals And More]?!.!” Spamton interrupted with a laugh of his own volition. Time to get up. He pushed off the blanket and swung his legs, actually sitting on the couch. He paused and then carefully stood up. His feet still stumbled. “oR IS IT [my] CLOTHES?”
“Eh— A bit of both.”
He hummed like a computer fan. The semi-permanent smile on his face turned almost sly and kinda sad, “YOU’RE TOO [Honest]. TOO [Trusting]. YOU CANT TRU5T ANYONE, [Kid].” He stepped towards Spam and gestured to where Binx stood. He ignored the looks on both of them, “NOT EVEN YOUR OWN [Friends And Family Discount!]. NOT YOURSELF AND NOT THE PHONE, NOT THE PHONE, NOT THE PHONE—”
Spamton kept repeating the last phrase like a broken record. Not the phone, no. He couldn’t trust it, it had to be made clear. A glitch shot through him and he started laughing with blackened glasses. He curled in on himself, with hands clawing towards his hair as if to grab it. Why, why, why, Heaven, why? He did what he was supposed to, what was this terrible feeling and the god awful ringing in his ears? This wasn’t right. This wasn’t right. What was this? Why was it like this again? Where was he? This wasn’t his hideaway, this wasn’t a safe spot.
“IT’S SO DARK [Gamma] IS IT STILL SO DARK?!?!!? I DID EVER YTHING RIGHT WHY IS IT ALWAYS DARK!? [Y]!?.! [[Unintelligible Laughter]]”
Faintly he felt something touch his greasy hair. Luck was with him and he yanked at his hair, feeling a sharp tug. He shuddered and stumbled, yanking again. Spamton’s head shot up, and the colour returned to his glasses. He saw the look on the other addisons. Staring at him. He didn’t like it. He tugged a third time to make sure he forced himself back into reality.
Carry on, carry on. Don’t think about it, don’t let it be real.
“WELL, SINCE WE’rE [Late Night] WE MIGHT AS WELL GO NOW.”
“Are you alright?”
Ignore, ignore. He didn’t register who asked. Only a momentary pause and then he pushed past it with a dismissive answer, “I’M [Please Try Again Later]!! LET’S GO. AND GET THIS. OVER WITH. I ALREADY [Being Afraid] SPEAKING TO P4SCAL AND YAEL AGAIN. OAKLEY THOUGH.”
He walked towards the door and changed the subject in his mind. Ignore the previous train. Not important. The taste of caffeine and sweet, sugar filled espressos crossed his mind. “I ALMOST M1SS HAVING A COFF3E [Addicted To These Sweet Rides?].”
He opened the door and left the house, stopping only to give a wide and expectant smile to Spam and Binx. They were late, didn’t Spam mention? Yes. He focused on that goal as the three of them headed off to the Cyber Grill. No one commented on the fact that Spamton still wore the same clothes. A complete disaster with stringy hair hanging in front of his face, staining his glasses.
The walk to the Grill wasn’t too long from the house. Awkward but only 15ish minutes. Spamton filled the uncomfortable silence with random quips and nonsense. Maybe it would make who he was more believable. Or it would make the other two also ignore his weird behaviour from not too long ago. Kris was good at that. They should be too. He spoke words riddled with stutters, ads, and straight up electronic noises. Such as how it was difficult to keep white hair constantly dyed a dark colour, especially with no money.
Only a few times did Spam say anything, asking questions about a future Spamton lived in. He spoke of a lost grandeur, of fancy clothes and expensive dining. He had been describing how soft his old bed had been when he saw the sign. He tripped over his feet and he let out a telephone dial tone. Binx opened his mouth but apparently whatever he had to say died on his tongue.
They were in front of The Cyber Grill.
It looked as it had always. Of course it did, Spamton retorted to his thoughts. It was the past. Of course it would look the same. That didn’t help his mind from stuttering like an old machine at the sight. The dial tone noise turned to an Emergency Alert noise as he looked up at the Grill’s glowing sign. In the corner of his eyes he saw Binx and Spam continue on, walking to the door. He wanted to follow but his knees wouldn’t respond.
“Spamton?”
Something burned his shoulder. He jerked away from the sensation, vision flip flopped as his head glitched. Spamton forced his body under his control and looked to the voice. A ring of silence followed the cut off of the emergency beep noise.
“WHAT?”
It was his little 21 year old self, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. That’s all it was. Just himself, a hand held up as if it had been on something. That something being his shoulder. That’s all it was. Was he that unused to physical contact that his mind would only register a threat? Too long on his own affecting him? Or did his past self just have really cold hands?
“Are you… Well, no. But will you be okay? Actually going inside?”
He really didn’t want to think about it. Time for what he was best at, or at least pretended he was good at.
“EAHAHAHAHAA!!!! HUH??? WHAT?? OF COURSE [Little Sponge]! I AM [[Mentally Unstable]] FINE!”
Spam’s face didn’t change for the positive. His eyes squinted more and his frown deepened. That was not the look of someone reassured. Augh, Goddamn it. He really couldn’t say a thing without making it worse. He followed Spam as they all headed inside. Ignore the glances from Spam, ignore the bystanders looking at him strangely.
“YOU KNOW!” Spamton hesitantly began anew. “BELIEVE IT OR !! [Banned 4 Life] HERE FOR A F3W YEARS! APPARENTLY FIGHTING IS AGAINST THE RULES.”
“There you two are!” Someone interrupts him, cutting off the topic he had decided on rambling about this time. “We knew you’d be late when you called, but it’s been— Who the hell is that?”
“This is—” Spam’s voice faded to a buzzing and ringing telephone in Spamton’s ears.
He hated Pascal. He never wanted to see them again.
He wished he had come back home and apologised to Pascal. Maybe left on better terms. He couldn’t remember exactly why he started the last fight. There were mixed feelings about them. Then his eyes looked to the others at the table. There was Yael and Oakley too. He expected this but it wasn’t the same as actually seeing them.
Sitting across from Pascal was Yael. The second oldest, yet had been the second shortest as well. Well. Now they were the same height. Spam was still shorter than him. Yael’s hair and fur stood on end like normal, somehow always electrically charged. He was reminded of fun days cheating at carnival games, of hours spent being taught how colour coordination helped sales, playing new video games, shocks on accident, shocks on purpose… He was reminded of bared teeth, a yellow hand holding back a white one from trying to take an eye out, blood pouring from Pascal’s nose, and deep slashes on Yael’s cheek. Yael had been the most sympathetic, but everything had a straw that broke the camel’s back.
He hadn’t seen either of them since 1999. Not since that night. They both had good reason to never see him. But… But they still left him. They left him. After all he tried to give back? They left. Why did they leave?
He always kept his claws clipped dangerously short after that. For promotional reasons, of course. Nothing else. Definitely not because he didn’t want to accidentally hurt family like that again or see that horrified look on Pascal a second time. Looking friendly or looking handsome was very good for ads. Claws weren’t usually ‘safe and sexy’ even if every addison had them. …His fingers hurt for days on end.
Oakley, though. She sat next to Pascal. They were his new favourite sibling, he decided to himself. She hadn’t been there that night, only hearing of it secondhand. They had left on surprisingly good terms, and contact had been kept up for a few years after. Binx had tried to keep calling him, trying to get everyone back together and apologising. Tried to force the family back to what it had been before. Spamton figured it was an eldest sibling thing. Much more preferred, Oakley had waited until Spamton reached out. They were the first and only one he called, since she was the farthest from the entire conflict. Until he threw himself off the grid almost entirely, they had small meetups filled with coffee and laughter. The last time he saw her was 16 years ago. He recalled it being the day before he evicted himself a little too late. He could remember that day in great detail.
He missed having a coffee addiction… But coffee wasn’t cheap, nor did it feed anyone.
Actually. It seemed kinda… Funny. That in a way Spam had been the one to get him in a reunion. The very person that stopped him from it. Years and years of radio silence. Stopped because the family baby requested his sweet big brother to ask the strange man to join the weekly family meetup. There must have been some sort of cosmic humour in that.
The distant sound of pitch changing, manic laughter pulled him out of his memories. The world seemed unreal and blurry. Had it been like that a moment ago? He didn’t know. What was that laughter? Who was laughing? Oh wait, that giddy feeling jumped in his chest and throat. It was him. He was laughing. Why? His tic? There wasn’t anything funny about this situation. The past was in front of him. Shocked, confused, disbelieving, worried. Most of that last one on Spam’s face. How strange to see.
“SO—SO—SoR—” Spamton tried saying in between his fit of laughter. The attempt left him breathless. He tried again with pre-programmed words, “[[Apologises For This Interruption. We Are Experiencing Technical Difficulties.]]!!!”
“Spamton? You know how we love you and all… Yeah?” Yael first spoke up after the laughing fit. At first Spamton thought he was talking to him, then saw Yael looking at his past. Not himself.
“No, no, I know that. But I swear, that’s what’s going on! That’s what he said. So far I believe it.” Oh, Spam must have explained what little he knew about the situation while Spamton had… Spaced out. At least that answered an earlier question.
“You are easy to trick, and it could be a scam.”
“What could he even get from such a ridiculous scam?! All he’s done is pass out on the lawn.” Spam gestured an arm wildly at Spamton, “He didn’t even try offering— Wait, no. He did offer money to break the phone. But that’s not really a scam. Just really weird.”
“That’s suspicious as fuck, Spam.” Pascal pointed out. They took a sip of their drink. When did they get that? Wait. When did everyone but himself sit down at the booth?
Best not let this continue on. He couldn’t let a fight start between his past and Pascal. He did hesitate, though. Would it help the situation?
“You sure would believe a stranger. Easily. Any story would get a meal from you.” That was Oakley. Okay, now.
“THERE ARE [Top 10 Easy Ways To] TRICK SPAMTON” Spamton agreed. He flapped his hands in the air as he thought. No way would he go through such effort just for a meal. Time travel? Hell no, too complex. He could have just said his wallet got stolen and Spam would have offered his own money. That would have been so much easier. “FOR EXAMPLE. I COULD. I COULD… What am I trying to accomplish by this…?”
He froze mid hand waggle, his last words a mumble. Best not to waste the breath. With a sigh, he dropped his arms and glanced his hidden eyes at his siblings. “CAN I SIT? AND JOIN? PLEASE? I CAN [Afford These Deals] WHAT I GET. I PROMISE. YOU WON;T HAVE [Spend Spend Spend!] ANYT HING. I CAN— I CaN— I CAn— I C4N—”
“Sit down. Please.” His repeating glitch stopped when Oakley interjected, patting the empty spot next to her.
Spamton sat down, careful not to set off his glitch. Normally he’d just plop down like a weight. But he already ruined a first impression. Shouldn’t make it worse. The booth was the best seat he’s had in years. Not too soft, not too hard. Miles better than the sorry excuse of a chair he had at his little shop. He relaxed his stiff muscles against the backing of the booth. Who knew a good seat would make him feel as though the weight of the world left his shoulders?
“Who are you, really?” Yael went right to the point as always. He sat across from Spamton, next to Binx and Spam. Pascal and Oakley were on his side of the booth.
“THE NAME’S SPAMTON G. SPAMTON [(C)1997]!” Spamton shifted in his spot. Then he settled with one of his legs bouncing up and down. It shook the table lightly. “AND YOUre YAEL. STILL VERY [Yellow]. WHICH I AM NOT [Surprised Yet?] 4BOUT. BECAUSE YAEL. YELLOW. YAEL-LOW…”
Okay, so maybe he rambled while nervous. That wasn’t usual, was it? His past family didn’t seem too thrilled about it. He saw a frustrated glare from pascal and mild annoyance from Binx. Were those towards himself? He assumed so. Were they as displeased about it when he was younger? He hadn’t noticed. Or was it because he was a stranger now? Maybe the stilted words he spoke were it. He needs to try a different approach.
“W0W! THIS PLACE SURE. IS. 3XACTLY THE SAME AS IT WAS!! WHAT DAY IS IT?” He turned his head to Oakley. She was a safe person. “JANUARY 3 ND? I KNOW IT’s [The Year Of Our Lord And Saviour 1997]. IT WAS SUCH A GOOD YEAR YOU KNOW. [[My Favourite Year]]. UNFORTUNATE THAT PRINCESS DIANA [Killed] IN SUCH A [GoodYear Blimp]. BuT HEY! SCOTLAND GOT A PARLIAMENT. AND I GOT RICH! THAT… THAT ALSO. HAPPENED. WON''T AGAIN THOUGH. It CAN’T. I WON’T LET IT.”
He fiddled with his fingers, twisting them this way and that. Maybe he could take total control of the conversation, and refuse to let anyone else speak. He didn’t want to let them talk. It would hurt less. If they were silent, he could pretend this was a hallucination. That he sat in his shop on his shitty chair, and imagined a reunion again.
“Why would you want that?” Objective failed, he didn’t continue speaking. Oakley was loud over his thoughts. “Isn’t getting rich a good thing!”
That wasn’t much of a question, he decided.
“I’d want to be rich.” Spam said, tapping his fingers on the table with downcast eyes. Attention all turned to him. “I’d do a lot if I were rich. Like paying for dinner for once.”
“You know that you don’t need to do that. We can cover it...” Binx gave Spam a soft pat on the shoulder.
Ah ha! A topic he knew. This was easy. He could force everyone to be silent with this. Being polite didn’t matter right now. He saw Pascal go to speak but threw his words out even faster. “HEY H EY HEY! THAT’S A [Great Deals And More]!! WHAT IF I COVER TONIGHT COMPLETELY?!?!” Spamton pushed forward. Both verbally and physically, as he sat up and leaned against the table. His smile seemed to grow. “I HAVE ENOUGH [Wacky Stacks]. THEN EVERYONE ELSE KEEPS THEIR KROmer!”
“WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP?!” Any and all voices at the table quieted immediately at the unexpected tone coming from Pascal. Enough was enough. He hadn’t paid enough attention. He forgot they were an easy to set off trigger when stressed and annoyed. They turned a hell-fire stoked glare to Spamton, baring their teeth. This looked far too familiar. “Stop talking. None of us know who you are, and I frankly don’t give a shit.”
None of the group noticed his flinching at their words. Too focused on the second youngest with mixed emotions. Spamton quickly clacked his mouth closed and shrunk away from his sibling the pink Addison. His fur bristled and he held his arms stiffly at his sides.
Spamton could swear he felt his fingers and knuckles ache, despite not having any hands to hurt.
Yael gapped at the explosive reaction. “Pascal!”
“What?!” Pascal threw their hands up. “He’s clearly fucked in the head! What sane person goes around claiming to be from the future? Who looks like that? No one! Spamton’s got a goddamn bleeding heart, letting him tag along.”
Spam jerked away at the backhanded sort-of-compliment, his jaw dropping. The others all saw that. Binx patted his back and traced circles on his shoulders. Yael turned a glare on Pascal and Oakley was shifting in her spot with grinding teeth.
“You’re ruining what was suppose to be a fucking family meet up.” Pascal carried on, their look worsening and fully focused on the stunned Spamton. “You’re just some crazy, glitched up and broken Addison. We don’t know you.”
“You can’t say things like that!” Oakley leaned back in her seat, sending a look right back at them. She crossed her arms, “Why would you say that?!”
“Look at him! His clothes are falling apart at the seams. He’s so dirty he might as well be dirt! And then, he has the fucking audacity to offer to pay for dinner?”
“Is that really what got you in a twist? It’s an offer . You’re being petty as hell.”
“We were all thinking about it! Right?!” Pascal looked at Binx for support. He scowled. They glanced at Yael. Nothing. “I can’t be the only one! One of these times Spamton’s going to help the wrong darkner. It’s starting to get real worrying.”
“…I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” Spamton spoke up, shaking in his spot. Any bit of a smile turned down. He froze when he felt the table’s eyes on him. Waiting with breath held. Hot frustration whipped through his chest like a hurricane. A growl built in his throat and his fist raised up high, then slammed down on the table. Everyone jumped at the sound. A hole dented in the table, punching half through it with splintered lines spreading out like a spider web. His plastic hand cracked. “GODDAMMIT!WHY DOES THIS HAVE TO HAPPEN [Twice]?!?!”
Spamton tensed and then threw himself to his feet, stumbling away from the table. His static filled gaze looked from the hole to everyone. They all were staring at him, or glaring at him in Pascal’s case. Panic flitter through their eyes. He clenched his hands with a frown. Punching a table usually did that.
Spamton breathed in deep… And let it out. Apathy filled the void his whirlwind emotions left behind. He didn’t want to repeat a mistake completely. “LOOK. I GET IT. I WOULDN’T LIKE SOM3ONE [Offers So Low I’ll—] EITHER.”
He checked his inner jacket pocket and counted out a few hundred Dark Dollars. Who knew he could get a teenager to give him so much for some random junk and the KEYGEN? Setting a counted amount on the table, his frown turned back to a bright smile. A fake one, but one all the same. “HERE. THAT’S ENOUGH 4 WHAT YOU’LL GET,, AND SOME. JUST TAKE IT. DON;T QUESTION. I’LL TAKE [My] L34VE. YOU WOnT SEE ME IF YOU [Don’t] WANT.”
Spamton turned around and left the Cyber Grill. He didn’t look back, ignoring the yelling from the addison family.
