The Rise And Fall Of Spamton G. Spamton

Chapter 8

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Time Skip

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Perspective Shift

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Spamton eagerly waited at home, cleaning, dusting, twiddling his thumbs. He even put out a few posters on various buildings outside to pass the time. He hadn't gotten a single call, but he was feeling confident that he would get one today. Things were looking up, weren't they? He had his friends to support him, to encourage him, to back him up.

That's all I have, their support, their approval. I don't want their money. I just want the freedom to do what I want, to get what I want.

Spamton peered at himself in the mirror, making sure he looked nice. His hair was brushed, collar pressed, his shoes were shined. He was really feeling himself. Even if nothing else was going right, he had his friends to love him. That was enough for now.

He had faith things would pick up soon.

"You friends are going to be here soon, and you're looking like a million dollars." Spamton hummed, carefully preening his hair. He snapped finger guns at himself, posing to see what worked for him. He saw the irony in having a full-length mirror, half of it was wasted on him— even so, it was useful. "You're going to make it. And you know why? Because you look amazing, and unique, like a cute little mascot! You f*cking got this." Spamton cheered himself on, grinning as he admired himself. I've got that winning smile, and the attitude. Well, that's what they tell me anyway. The little salesman did his best to shake off his doubts, taking a deep breath.

"You look great. You sound great. That's all you need. The drive. The passion..." He sighs, realizing he was giving himself a pep talk in the mirror. He drew another deep breath, trying to picture himself in a position to accept a deal. He stared at himself in the mirror, imagining that future for himself. Big Tv deals, big cars, big commercials. He deserved all that, didn't he? He wanted it more than anything, to be more than a tiny salesman stuck in the world of little pop-up ads. He needed to be big.

"You got the look. Clean, sharp." Spamton nodded to himself, flashing a smile. He grins wider, showing that blinding smile his friends seemed to admire. "You've got this." He winked at himself, taking a deep breath. Yeah. You got this. You're gonna be a big shot, kid, he thought with a grin.

A knock at the door caught his attention, and he perked up at the thought of getting the party started. He bolted out of his room, racing for the front door and eagerly unlocking it before yanking it open. Indy growled playfully at him as he charged in, grabbing Spamton under the arms and lifting him up, a gleeful expression brightening his usually neutral expression.

"Rrr! I gotcha!" Indy laughed, making Spamton yelp in surprise as Indy spun around with him. The pale Addison got a quick blur of his friend's face, each of them smiling with their respective items in hand. Tea, food, baking supplies, games- The white Addison didn't get a good look, placed back on his two feet. "It's good to see you again, Spamton." Indy beamed, walking inside to allow his friends to pass by Spamton. The pale Addison grins, smirking at him.

"Good to see you guys again!" Spamton began, sniffing the air as he snuck over to Lyle to try and get a peek at what he had in his hands, wrapped up in brown paper. Lyle chuckles, raising the bag higher so that Spamton couldn't get his little mitts on it. The little salesman whines, jumping up and pouting as Lyle walked to the table and started setting out the wrapped food. Spamton guessed it was tacos or sandwiches of some sort, maybe burgers. "Oh come on, you're not even going to let me have a peek?" Spamton pulled out a chair, scrambling on top of it and taking a seat. Paz chuckles, setting his bag aside while he glanced over at Ranger, who was setting out his baking supplies on the kitchen counter.