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There are some things that Spamton G. Spamton just can’t say. Even after being freed from his strings by the lightners, the puppet’s code would be forever warped to block out the name of the one who owned him, and just exactly what had been done.
And for a while? Spamton really didn’t mind. It wasn’t like he had many people to tell his story to at the bottom of a dumpster, and even if he did, the story of a foolish spam mail Addison falling for a scam more obvious than one of his own is well, embarrassing to say the least.
Suffice it to say, it really wasn’t something he hated to be unable to dredge up again.
That is, until he and Tenna reconnected.
It was the strangest thing, really. To go from convincing himself he didn’t care if this man lived or died, to just enjoying his company on a late night.
It was Ralsei’s doing that they connected at all. Tenna’s arms might have been reattached, but getting cleaved had really taken its toll on the guy. His hands shook constantly, tremors wracking them at random hours. Other times, his joints locked up and he couldn’t move properly. These were things that needed to be attended to, and Spamton just so happened to be the best mechanic Castle Town had to offer, so, begrudgingly, he did as Ralsei said and tuned Tenna up week after week.
Week after week of awkward silence, of bickering, of fights. Sometimes they’d spend the entire session just giving each other dirty looks as Spamton tuned him up, and other times, rude comments devolved into outright screaming matches. But sometimes- sometimes they just reminisced.
Lately, it seemed all they’d been doing was reminiscing; talking of the past and why things turned out the way they did.
“Y’know you ah- I mean I’ve-” Tenna’s antennae trembled just a little, clearly nervous. “I’ve told you how- why things turned out how they did with me, so… If- I mean, if you wanted to- If you were comfy with it, that is-” He spluttered.
Spamton sighed. He knew exactly where this was going, even despite the mess of stuttery rephrasing he was being met with.
“Why did you leave?!” Tenna had shouted variations of that time and time again during their previous fights, but Spamton never replied, either by ignoring the question outright or responding only with heated vitriol and cruelty. He never gave the other an answer despite the TV’s numerous pleas and dramatically over-the-top what-ifs he presented.
“What? Were you just using me the whole time? Did you ever care at all?!” “You just wanted me for my status, didn’t you?!” “Did I bore you?! Is that it? You left because I was too old and obsolete?!” “Did you just enjoy toying with me?!”
Spamton never would have expected it, especially not with Tenna of all darkners, but for the first time ever, he truly wished he could say what happened. What truly happened. “[Cathode], I [Is This What You Want?] [2] TELL U-” The postman was interrupted.
“Look, I-I’m sorry for asking-” Tenna shrank a couple of inches. “I-I know it’s probably a touchy subject, and we’re barely even friends again yet! I-I’m moving way too fast, I know! It’s just-” He rambled, before Spamton’s words finally caught up with him. “Wha- really?” His antennae perked up, screen glowing a little brighter.
“[Affirmative]! BUT I C4N’T.”
“Huh?”
“I C4N’T TELL [You Won’t Ever Need Another Dish Rag After This ]. I’M [Access Denied] FROM S4YING. I’LL [Hyperlink Blocked],” he sighed, eyes once fixed on Tenna drifting away.
“I… I see,” Tenna began, tone so clearly disappointed, yet resigned to the situation. He’s seen the little mailman glitch himself into a frenzy when trying to explain certain things, and though at first he wondered if it was on purpose to avoid speaking to him, Tenna’s learned to tell over time that he truly had no choice in the matter.
There are some things that Spamton G. Spamton just can’t say. But he wasn't giving up. He might not be able to tell Tenna literally, but he could at least tell him a-
“DO U [Want To Try A New Hobby?] HE4R [A Story For All Ages]?”
“A- A story? What about?” The entertainer asked.
What an excellent question, that was. Spamton thought for a moment. "GIVE ME A [I Just Need A Minute Of Your Time] TO THINK."
Tenna did.
And then finally, “...IT’S ABOUT A [Little Bird] AND A [The Family Dog].”
Even without eyes, Tenna’s expression is clear. A look of complete confusion at the sudden, drastic conversation shift, yet something in Spamton’s eyes told Tenna that this was a story Spamton truly wanted him to hear.
And so he listened. “Go on.”
Once there was a bird, he’d explained.
It was small, with plain white wings, completely unremarkable, which was unusual among its brightly colored flock. The others were so beautiful, and it wasn't, not just for its physical appearance, but for it's talent, or lack thereof.
While the other birds flew great distances or did marvelous tricks in the air, the white bird spent most of its effort merely trying to lift itself a few measly feet off the ground. Sure, it tried its best to mimic the others, but the highest it ever got was to the lowest branches of a nearby tree, and the longest it ever flew was only a few minutes, Spamton visualized. It felt talentless compared to the other prettier birds. It would never achieve anything if things stayed like this.
But then one day, the bird was spoken to by a voice up above. It couldn’t help but wonder if this was the Heavens themselves speaking to it, for the candence of their voice was nothing short of angelic.
“I see your struggles, little bird, but do not pity you,” the voice began. “For in your future, I see the wings of someone who will fly higher than all the rest, if you will only allow me to help you.”
Taken in by its flattery and promise of a hopeful future, the bird paid attention intently, for this was the first time in forever that anyone had given it the time of day, let alone anyone with such words of comfort and praise.
“You’ve tried your best, but your wings are simply not strong enough for you to truly fly with,” they said so calmly that the bird did not question their intent. “So I have a proposition for you.”
Hanging on every breath, the bird listened, even when the deal before it did not make sense, the mailman continued.
“It must remain our little secret, and you must rely on me, and me alone, but if you allow me to take your wings,” the voice began, tone like sweetened honey. “I will make you fly.”
And like the desperate little thing it was, the bird accepted these terms without hesitation, without even knowing what this deal truly entailed.
It didn’t anticipate that two strong hands would hold its body down as its wings were forcibly ripped from its back. But it didn’t have time to consider the brutality of what it had gone through, or why Heaven had any need for its wings at all, because the next thing it knew, it was given new wings, better wings, and the start of its new life began.
With the help of the voice, the bird soared higher than all the rest of its flock combined, and everyone in the forest knew its name. Finally, after all that time of being nothing, the bird was acknowledged and adored, and most days it didn’t matter at all to it that each flap of its wings was controlled by someone else, because at least the bird was flying. And it flew far away from everything it ever knew into a neighboring town.
That is when the bird meets the dog.
The dog is a beloved family pet, owned by the same people for many, many years, but as of late, tension has been growing in his house. Due to no fault of the dog, Spamton is sure to clarify, he's been finding it harder and harder to keep his owners’ attention because of the fighting between them.
Taking pity upon the pet, seeing its own struggles for relevancy in him, the bird offers to help the dog get his owner’s attention back, and together, the bird and dog do tricks. The bird soars through the air and does flips, the dog catching it every time.
They’re an unlikely duo, but they work together well and soon grow closer. The bird learns more about the dog’s cherished family memories and the struggles in his home, and the dog learns more about the bird’s fame, how everyone in the forest and town knows its name.
And for a while, everything seems to be working out for the pair. The family quits their bickering on occasion to watch as their dog plays with the bird, bringing them all together again for the first time in a long while.
But the dog is still afraid. He doesn’t know how long this will all last. Can a few simple tricks really fix years' worth of slowly building resentment? Both of them know that isn’t the case.
“How did you do it? How do you get everyone’s eyes on you when you fly into the scene?” The dog would ask one day. “I just want to be like you.”
For the first time in a long, long time, the bird lost all its confidence with those words, Spamton explained, swallowing hard. Despite the wishes of the one who had given it its fame, the bird had begun to rely on the dog in a way it never relied on the voice. For lo-
For companionship.
And suddenly, the bird felt almost guilty, for it could not tell the dog the truth of how it had made it this far. “It’s a secret,” it tried to tell the other, but the dog couldn’t accept that, and he growled and asked again, and for the very first time, the bird became acutely aware of the difference in their species.
The bird always knew how much power the Heavens had, which was why deep down it feared them, but it had never occurred to it how much more power a dog has over a bird, for the dog had never threatened it before. And the dog would never dream of threatening the bird, for the dog lo-
Cared for the bird. Yet still, for a moment, when the dog is upset with the bird's defiance, all the bird can feel is trapped and scared.
If it tells the dog the truth, the Heavens will be angry, and if it doesn’t, its only companion will be. It doesn’t know what to choose, so it promises to tell the dog something it cannot, and it is punished for it.
The moment it's alone, the voice, which had never really come from Heaven, rescinded their gift with force, and now the bird had no wings at all. Not theirs, and not its own.
It cannot help the dog anymore, because it cannot fly, and the bird is far too ashamed and frightened to tell the dog what happened.
What will he say when he finds out the truth? And what will happen to the dog and his family now that it cannot help him anymore? The bird doesn’t want to stay to find out, so it runs away.
Glitched and full of ad-speak though it was, Spamton manages to finish his little fable, though he was unable to look Tenna in the screen for most of it, unwilling to see if the other understood what was being said.
It was difficult, honestly. The first half of the story seemed so unrelatable to Tenna that he really couldn’t grasp how this connected to anything, though the second half couldn’t be more obvious.
He was quiet for a very long time as he tried to piece things together, but even by the end, the first part of the story was still difficult to comprehend. He didn’t need to perfectly understand the beginning to understand the ending, though.
The CRT sighed, genuinely feeling quite emotional. He realized this was likely the only explanation he was ever going to get out of Spamton, so he took it seriously, despite the mountain of questions left unanswered.
And then…
“Do you think the bird will forgive the dog? …For pressuring him?” He’d ask solemnly after that uncomfortably long silence that speared through Spamton like daggers.
The salesman really wasn’t expecting a question like that. It actually makes him turn his head back to Tenna. “I-” He swallows hard, a sort of nervousness overtaking him at such a vulnerable inquiry. He has to really think about his answer, and even then, it isn’t the satisfying conclusion that Tenna likely wants. “I THINK IT'S." He awkwardly pauses, trying to avoid inserting some silly ad-clip. "-TRY1NG [2].”
“D0>D0>DO YOU THINK-” He starts to speak again before he can even process the emotions behind what he wants to ask. “DO YOU [Thinking About The Future?] THE D0G FORGIVES THE [Little Bird] FOR RUNN1NG AWAY?”
“…” Tenna pauses to ponder his own answer, and the moment feels like it lasts for eternity before he simply replies. “I hope he will.”