Now's Your Chance!!! Spamton x Reader [[HIATUS]]

Starving Artists - Pt. 2

"Yeah, I figured you'd [[Q&As]] me eventually. Fair's fair, after all." He sighs.

The drinks arrive.

Spamton grabs his whiskey. "I'm gonna n33d this."

He sips the drink with an exhausted familiarity. It's still strange to you, how quickly he can switch between moods, but when you think about it, it makes sense. A salesman wears a mask for the sake of the customer, don't they? That mask is just... part of who he is, just as much as the man under it is. You'll get used to it eventually.

"I was Queen's [[HOT DEALS!!!!]] guy. Her m@rketing man. Her [[KROMER]] machine. She had all these [f$#**&!ng psychotic] ideas, and it was my [[Jobs For Sal3]] to make it happen. At least, from the finance side of things. Her [Birdwatching Tour Group] did the rest." 

You drink your water while you listen. It tastes like batteries, and you make a face.

Spamton seems to think this means something, because he furrows his puppet brow and scowls at you.

"Hey!! Don't look at me [please stop looking at me] like that!!! I was [Terrifying] at my job!!! The best of the best!!!!" 

You try to cut in to make it clear that, no, you were not doubting him, but he calms down all on his own before you can speak. And then he's continuing.

"Yeah, I was great. I had [[HEAVEN]] in my hand. Cars, fame, as much [[Hyperlink Blocked]] as I could possibly want. And I GOD DAMN DESERVED IT!!!" He slams his drink down, the ice in it clinking dangerously against the glass. 

"But I... I guess I have to give some of the credit to Mike." He takes another sip, looking somewhere past you.

He doesn't seem like he's going to continue until you ask him outright. So, of course, you do.

"...Who's Mike?"

He locks eyes with you through those pink-and-yellow glasses.

"That's the kicker. To this [day/month/year], I have no idea."

The waiter from before stops by your table, interrupting.

"Have you two decided on what you're going to eat?"

Spamton masks over the serious conversation with a bright smile.

"I'll have the python filet!~"

The waiter nods, then looks to you.

"And you?"

You're too startled by Spamton to respond. You've been served some quality food from your time in Queen's mansion, and you had had enough to know that Spamton had ordered the Dark World's equivalent to filet mignon. Where did he get enough money for this?!

You can't possibly add on to that check.

"I'll, uh- I'll just have fries, thanks," you say, uncomfortable.

"Like hell you will!! Get the Lightner the same as me!! We're [[You're Invited To A!!! CELEBRATE!!!!!!]] tonight," Spamton crows.

The waiter just smiles.

"Yes, of course. Will that be all?"

You try to protest, but Spamton cuts you off. 

"That's all!!"

"Your food will be ready shortly." 

The waiter leaves, taking your menus from you as he goes.

You look at Spamton incredulously.

"Spamton! What the hell, man!"

"Easy, kid! We've got the Spamton G. Spamton [[%%% OFF DISCOUNT]]~! And there's not a chance I'm letting my [Business Partner] go hungry!"