Chapter Text
It wasn't his first time networking among cyber-citizens and, being an Addison, this should have come naturally. However, this recent success had left Spamton playing catch-up to the odd velocity at which he had achieved it. His talk of digital marketing campaigns were apparently of little interest to the high-rollers in Queen's Mansion tonight. All of whom had strange quirks, yet acted like Spamton was the bizarre one in wanting to actually discuss anything other than some guy called Nubert.
Despite these set-backs, Spamton had resolved to at least secure a conversation with the host, leaving this event with one respectable connection under his belt. Only, Queen proved to make the businessman's night a complete failure. He could never pin her down as she seemed to constantly ping-pong from one location to another. Barely starting a conversation with one guest before rushing across the room to wind-up ‘Kingy-Wingy’, as she referred to him, for the umpteenth time.
They appeared to be the main guests of honor; envoys from Card Kingdom. An old-fashioned place, where dusty board games and old playing cards ruled. Of their 4 monarchs, it was apparently the Spade ruler's turn to head a summit between worlds. But, between Queen's continued antagonism and the King's incensed barking in response, it was a surprise the atmosphere remained one of consistent fun and non-nonchalance.
Well, that was for everyone but Spamton, who now found himself at the edge of the vast room, uncomfortably gazing out the window at Cyber-Downtown. He awkwardly ran his finger up and down the bottle he'd barely drank from, lest it dull his ability to strike any deals. Such precautions seemed silly now, with the bottle at a healthy room-temperature; a result of how long he'd been nursing the damn thing.
Spamton wanted to leave. Ironically, he was exhausted by how unproductive he'd been tonight, but he couldn't. His mind was filled with the guaranteed derision of his fellow Addisons if they knew he left with nothing to show, when he was meant to be a rising star. They'd know it was just a fluke until now, everyone would know. And everyone here would surely be laughing at him once he left:
'Did you see that guy? Couldn't even get Queen to call him the right name!'
'Yeah, then he hid in the corner all on his own, with the same drink he had all night!'
'I feel kinda bad, he doesn't belong h-'
"You don't fit in here, Mail Man~"
This voice wasn't in Spamton's head, but it was almost as close, like the owner was breathing the amused words across his neck. He had expected to be mocked only after departing, out of some social courtesy, but to be humiliated right here in front of the whole room... He really should have left-
"Well, that's okay, hee hee! Neither do I!"
His thoughts were cut off again. Once more the voice was so close that he could almost feel the wide grin across the stranger's mouth. It made Spamton somehow sweat even more than just moments prior, when his anxious thoughts had been running wild. However, he also found a smile creeping across his own face, accompanied by a noticeably growing blush.
Ah, this person wasn't mocking him, they were relating to him. Spamton wasn't the only one who couldn't adjust to this place.
That said, this individual was still uncomfortably close. Nervously lifting his eyes from the ground, Spamton found the stranger was also framing his form with their hands, like they had revealed a grand prize... or magic trick?
"Spam-Spamton, Spamton G Spamton. Digital Marketing Manager."
He stammered downwards, defaulting to his business introduction out of habit; out of nerves. There was a moment of silence until the floating hands were pulled back to their owner, who responded between snickers with,
"Well, well Spam-Spam, it is much my pleasure~ But I must say, don't you marketeer-men usually offer a hand to shake along with such formalities?"
Spamton couldn't have gone much redder if he was on fire, which he certainly felt was close to happening after such an amateur mistake. He hadn't even turned to face his conversation partner, as though he had been held in place by their hands. Hastening to correct his faux-pas, the deal-maker span on his heels, offering a slightly shaking hand.
"Of course, my apologies. Where are my manners, ha ha ha..."
His laughter trailed off as he took in the person before him. Spamton should have got a hint from the odd interaction up to now: the lack of personal space; the sinister amusement in their voice; being in a gathering like this...
They weren't much taller than Spamton, but had a presence that made the smaller man feel microscopic and vulnerable. Evidently a member of the visiting king's entourage, they were an unsettling variety of clown? no, jester? Spamton thought back to the poker games he'd played on occasion with the other Addisons, remembering a no-good card always discarded promptly each time.
"A Joker?"
He mumbled the words, initially unsure if they'd actually been said aloud or confined to his head. Evidently, the prior was true as Spamton now found his offered hand firmly captured by another.
"Jevil, actually. Although I suppose it is not untrue. Oh, but trust me, there is much fun to be had with myself in play! Pay no mind to the mistruths spread by that silly Rouxl's fellow!"
Jevil shone a bright smile down at the salesman, not least of all because the clown owned the largest, sharpest, gold teeth imaginable. Their reflection was so bright and metallic that Spamton caught his own image clearly within. The eyes, in contrast, were empty holes, accented by equally dark vertical slashes across each. Although it was hard to tell if they were part of the eyes or make-up applied to reinforce the circus theming. Regardless, they seemed as endlessly cheerful as the smile below. This, at least, Spamton could understand.
The clown's words, however, were strange. How did they claim not to fit in here, when they clearly wished to play around like everyone else? Why did they refer to common card game rules as a person? Why had they honed in on Spamton, were they mocking him after all? If so, the businessman felt there was zero benefit to buttering up this weird person. Annoyed and exhausted, Spamton pulled his hand free, allowing himself to snarkily offer back an absurd sales pitch for the absurd jester.
"Of course! Then how about we throw out the [old classics]! Replace them with NEW GAMES! with NEW RULES! No, NO RULES! We can all [Jerk around] everyone we meet like fools!"
Spamton eccentrically raised his voice as he spoke. It was a bad habit of his from the mass-email days, treating every other word like an urgent call to action, something the other Addisons had drilled into him to cut-out countless times. Something that was embarrassing in modern advertising; that would leave you as nothing more than guaranteed automatic junk mail.
"No rules?" the clown briefly pondered aloud, interrupting Spamton's thoughts for the third time tonight. These words seemed oddly reflective compared to their previous responses. It would have thrown Spamton off, if Jevil were not so quick to find an answer that brought with it the same amused tone from before.
"Uehehehe! Yes! I can imagine that man's face, what fun! And then I suppose I could do anything I wanted~ Hehehehe-!"
Jevil's manic laughter had been abruptly cut off by an old wooden staff landing striking the top of their head. Although it didn't seem to have harmed the fool, instead causing two glowing yellow orbs to appear in the dark of his eyes and roll upwards. Meanwhile, a long, purple tongue emerged to fall out over the sharp, demonic teeth.
An old, scruffy feline emerged from behind Jevil, leaving their staff atop the clown's head. They looked as tired as Spamton felt and their light world body had clearly seen better days, judging by the button eye and half stitched mouth. Their words, however, held a similar whimsy to the person beside them,
"Apologies for my friend. He likes to play the vanishing act as an encore to all his performances and I can't always find him before he finds mischief."
"No mischief! mischief! Only Spam-Spam, my new acquaintance!" rebutted the clown "Meet my old acquaintance, The Sour-puss! Hehehehe-!"
Jevil received another light blow to the head, before Seam returned their attention to Spamton with an amused sigh,
"Hello, you may call me Seam and I presume your name is not actually Spam-spam."
He didn't really care for more introductions tonight, but since Seam had effectively rescued him from this unruly playing-card's antics, Spamton gave his best deal-sealing grin in response.
"Spamton G. Spamton. A pleasure to meet you, however I'm afraid I have to end the night here. My schedule's packed with meetings in the morning, you know how it is!"
Turning to make his exit and put this awful night behind him, Spamton could only take one step forward before he was halted by a familiar hand on his shoulder.
"Oh, Spam-Spam!" chimed the jovial voice, "You seek new people, new ventures, yes?"
Spamton didn't respond, but stiffened, these words had clearly struck right on the money. Jevil continued, "I can introduce you~ Secret places. All sorts of people. Out of hours. Unguarded~"
What? The stunned man had given up on leaving this event with anything other than shame tonight. If Jevil had said this earlier, there's no way Spamton would have humored it, but he was exhausted. Combined with the aching need for success, to prove himself, to be a big shot... Did this ridiculous person really have connections in secret places?
Clenching his teeth, Spamton dove his free hand into his back pocket, before turning to thrust a small card towards the grinning menace. He didn't want to see their expression, he knew he'd regret this. Therefore, as soon as Spamton felt the business card being pulled from his grasp, he spun back around.
"Goodnight." he offered, as a final polite farewell, before marching out of the room as fast as he could. It didn't stop him from picking up on that distinctively chaotic voice calling "Bye bye~" as he made his escape.