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Chapter 5 * Blank Addison

Darkness.

Spam rubbed his eyes, examining his surroundings as he woke up. His back was sore as usual, and he felt a cold shiver running down his spine. He was still in his room/store back, but something felt… off…

The door was wide open.

Spam blinked, as rather than leading to his storefront, the door instead led to an indistinguishable black void of darkness and he squinted in confusion. It should have been morning by now. Why was it so dark outside?

His brain felt foggy as he got up, and in drowsy steps, he stepped out of the dark door as the floor rippled like shallow water. Ahead of him was nothing but dark and vast emptiness. It was odd, and he felt beckoned to explore the extending darkness before him.

He walked for what had felt like minutes, maybe hours? He had a hint of feeling that something was wrong, but there was nothing out here, only black extending darkness for miles on end and the distant sound of static in the distance. Or was his mind playing tricks on him again?

The void's silence was so deafening, with the only exception being the static. The door back to his room was nowhere in sight, but when Spam saw a flicker of bright light in the distance, he realized he wasn't alone.

Sighing in relief, he rushed to it, his small feet splashing with every step he took. The light, maybe it was a door or a small window, and as he ran, he realized it was the origin of the static as well.

As he got closer, his eyes widened in terror, the light wasn't a window. It was a screen. A TV screen.

Facing down and sitting completely motionless was a TV darkner that Spam was quick to recognize as Mike's helper, Host.

Spam felt himself breathing faster as he saw them. The darkner did not seem to notice him, the only hint of movement being the static screen as well as their black and white mouth. Wait, but wasn't it made of coloured TV bars at some point? Or was he misremembering?

Cautiously, Spam quietly stepped towards them, if Host was here, then Mike was sure to be around as well. He'd probably know what the deal was with this place. Unless this was part of their deal somehow? It was always a headache to try and keep up with him.

Host remained unresponsive as Spam got closer, why was he shaking? Could he even talk to the mute TV darkner? He didn't understand sign language in the slightest.

"Uhm… H-Hello…?" Spam squeaked out to them, startling himself with how loud he sounded compared to the deafening void.

Host didn't seem to respond, but the way their screen flickered and the coloured bars returned for just a moment was enough to let him know they heard him.

The TV looked almost disoriented, lifting a floating hand to rub the side of their screen. They didn't have visible eyes, but Spam could see the way they suddenly noticed him, and Spam felt his stomach drop when he felt a large looming presence coming from them.

Spam was shaking, getting the most sickening feeling that he wasn't supposed to be here. Were they going to attack him?! Where was Mike?!

Host's expression was difficult to read, but they looked… scared…? Spam's eyes widened as the TV looked around for a moment and quickly signed him something he couldn't understand.

"Wh-What…?" Spam murmured, growing scared as whatever gesture they were making at him seemed urgent, and he felt completely frozen as to what it meant.

A strained high pitched whimper left their mouth as they seemed to be struggling to get him to understand their sign "oUt…"

"I-I'm sorry, I don't [Can't understand] you!" Spam stepped back as the air grew heavier, and the TV grew desperate and exasperated, baring their fangs at him.

"gEt ouT…"

"W-Wait, you can [Talk] ?!" Spam was shaking, he didn't know what he expected them to sound like but this wasn't it. However, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of something big approaching Host from behind. It was the looming presence that he had felt, but it didn't actually come from Host, but rather, something else.

Spam felt frozen in place as the TV began to pant "WH-WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT IS GOING ON?! WHERE'S M-"

Host's sudden glitched scream felt like electricity rushing through his head and body, causing Spam to suddenly jolt awake with a scream. He was panting, sweat running down his forehead as realized he was back in his room, his shaking hands clenching his bedsheets.

What…? What the hell?!

As Spam slowly realized what had happened, he took a deep breath, falling back on his bed. Just a dream.

These black void dreams… It wasn't the first time that he had had them.

They had started a few weeks back, but the dreams were so often uneventful that he hardly remembered any of them.

They were just him walking in a black void, with the dreading sense that at any moment, something was going to jump out of the deafening silence and hurt him. Sometimes he swore he saw a shadowy figure from the corner of his eye, but he was always alone otherwise, along than that numbing static that he had started to hear from time to time.

But this was the first time the dream was different. He supposed it made sense, and with how much he spent time talking to Mike, the Addison figured that the talkative microphone would make his way into his dreams. But the not-so-talkative TV being there instead was surprising.

The dream faded from his mind the more he tried to remember, it was certainly an oddity compared to his other black void dreams, but it was just that. A dream.

He barely knew anything about Host, other than the fact that they were a TV, were mute, they held Mike, and they were mostly just sort of… there? He supposed that some subconscious part of his brain must have been creeped out by their silent presence to make them show up in his dream…

Spam yawned and rubbed his eyes, his clock pointed to way earlier than the time he used to wake up on, and he sleepily reached for his phone, catching up with all the message notifications from the Addisons after their hangout the night before.

He smiled reading through a late-night conversation where Flash complained about a stomach ache, only to get scolded by Click and Boost for eating too much cake and followed by Banner linking guides on how to help with stomach pains.

Stomach aches… Weird dreams… Must have definitely been something with that cake. Spam chuckled to himself with this thought, remembering that he had kept the leftover slices in his mini-fridge. Finally, a healthy breakfast that wasn't just coffee to get through the day. Sure he was earning more now, but it was hard to shake off old habits.

Besides! Profits first, he couldn't get too comfortable with his spending. Food and having a proper bed were not priorities right now. Unless it was eating more mansion food or having a new house or… He quickly caught his mind wandering and decided to get up. Washing up and doing his morning rituals.

It was the weekend, so he still had a few hours before he opened, but he still walked to his storefront, his eyes quickly noticing a package on his desk. It was yet another mysterious object just conveniently spawning in his surroundings due to Mike and Host's… manager? This was the norm for him now. At least mail between dark worlds wasn't as slow as one would expect. He wondered if he'd ever be allowed to send anything back.

This package, however, was wrapped like a present and Spam squinted as he dubiously inspected it. He recalled how Mike had boasted about this mysterious gift he was going to give him. Was this it?

He sat behind his counter and picked it up, noticing how a letter had come with it. He carefully held the piece of paper, confirming his suspicions that this was, in fact, the aforementioned gift.

The letter was short and with surprisingly neat handwriting.

"This is for when you're ready to let the world hear your voice" was written in a dark blue, signed by none other than Host themself. And below it, written in bright pink, was a "And for when you're ready to start doing some REAL work!"

…It was also Host's handwriting, but predictably signed with Mike.

Spam quickly felt bad for his earlier thoughts about the TV darkner and reached to open the small package. He wasn't used to gifts, and even then, his mind often had trouble telling gifts apart from hand-me-outs. Everything those two had given him was to further his career and this—

Spam suddenly stopped when he finally saw the contents of the box. He held the small packaged mechanism in his shaking hands.

It was a voice box.

A deeper and more masculine voice box.

He quickly put it away, feeling overwhelmed, Addison cosmetic changes were massively expensive and mostly seen as a vanity thing that few could afford. How had they even acquired this?! He shouldn't... He COULDN'T...!

He had made the off-handed comment every now and then about disliking the sound of his voice, and how he often felt like he was squeaking every word that left his mouth, not to mention his… wait…

Was this to fix his glitches? That… probably made more sense… The letter did mention "real work", whatever Mike even meant by that.

Glitches aside, Spam began to wonder if him being an Addison who hated his voice was in some way intervening with his ability to make sales. All when he couldn't stand to hear himself speak when even his voice didn't sound like his own.

When Mike took over, Spam could feel his bravado carry on to his own voice, and the small microphone was more than happy to train him on how to be so bold in his approach to others. Bold and confident like Addisons were supposed to be.

Spam looked at the voice box, putting it aside for when he, as Host put it, felt ready to let the world hear his voice. He was scared it wouldn't fit him, but then again, nearly nothing on his body did…

He sighed and picked out the notebook where he had written "Big Shot" before.

In his off time, he'd add new ideas for what his brand could be. His drawing style was hardly impressive, but he had still doodled different ideas of the cars he could sell, or how "Big Shot" could be implemented into a brand name. But most importantly, who the face of his brand would be.

He had traced images of various Addisons, suited up in various different kinds of outfits, but he couldn't figure out a colour. Neither for the outfits nor for the Addison himself. If someone were to ask whether he was drawing a self-portrait, Spam would be quick to deny this.

It was more of a… concept. An idealized version of him if he was taller, more masculine, more popular, successful, and not so, well… himself. All this Addison needed was a colour, but Spam could never figure out what colour he wanted to be if were he given the opportunity to change.

He never did consider himself a "white" Addison. Instead, Spam just regarded himself as a blank. Empty, void, almost see-through if the way he was often ignored were to have a symbolic meaning.

And the sketched Addison was as blank as he was. The rainbow of colour offered him countless possibilities, but Spam just couldn't pick one.

Clearly, he required assistance on this.

---

"Spam-Spam, my favourite business day client!" Mike's voice chimed through the phone "Why the hell are ya callin' me this early in the weekend?!"

Spam could sense his permanent grin through the phone, but yet, he also sounded… tired?

"H-Hey! Mike, uh… Did I [Wake] you up?"

"Whaddya think? Your city's got a different time zone or somethin'?!" He grumbled, and Spam quickly became embarrassed.

"S-S0rry! I c-can [Call you back] lat3r!" Spam quickly excused himself, hearing a drowsy grumble on the other side.

"No no, I'm here. What do you need, kid?"

"Uhm…" Spam looked back at his sketches, feeling ridiculous for even waking him up for something like this "I… I was wond3ring… What your [Favourite colour] was?"

"...what. What are you tryin' to ask me right now?"

"I-I'm trying to pick some [Colour Schemes] for a… business project… I can't figure it out so I th0ught if you could [[Please Help Me]], I could… get [Inspiration] ?" Spam stalled for a bit, maybe whatever colour Mike said would become his Addison's base colour. Spam knew that if it were up to himself, nothing would get chosen, so now he just had to wait and-

"I like pink. Pink's great." Mike yawned "Spam, what're you making? …And Host wants you to know they said blue, by the way."

Spam frowned with this, looking at his sketch. Pink Addison… blue Addison… that would just be him ripping off his siblings!

"Spam? Ya there?"

"U-Uh? Y-Y3AH, I just didn't exp3ct you to say [Pink]."

"Why not?! It's just like me, it's PASSIONATE. And it looks great on clothes without the aggressiveness you'd expect out of something like red!" He exclaimed, surprisingly passionate about the subject "Unless ya wanna be real eye-catching, in which case, you could opt for red to… Actually, Spam will you just TELL ME what this is for?! If I lose signal it means Host fell back asleep so ya better make it quick!"

Spam simply looked at his sketch, the microphone's words resonating with him as he seemed to look in realization "I… I'll tell you later… I think I [Figured it out]..." He mumbled, looking at his coloured markers "S-Sorry for [Rise and Shin–Cough." He cleared his throat "W-Waking both of you up, I mean!"

He heard more grumbling from the other side "Alright… Talk to ya later, Spam."

Spam heard the phone click and sighed, his timing was off, but yet, something about his mentor's words stuck out. Maybe he didn't need to be a coloured Addison, Spam pondered as he grabbed a bright red marker.

Maybe all he needed was the right presentation.

---

"Drive with Big Shot cars, for all of your big shot uh…"

No.

"Big Shot riding–"

No…

"Drive around the city with our big shot cars!"

NO.

Spam scribbled over all the slogan attempts with his pen, groaning to himself. All the other Addisons were programmed to spout slogans and pitches with ease, so why was this such a struggle for him?!

His delivery was still stuttery even if he was getting better at it, yet, it was still so hard to figure out his "thing". Maybe he was just meant to be a broken Addison for the rest of his life, and this Big Shot Cars idea was nothing but a self-indulgent dream of him trying to justify his shortcomings into believing that maybe there was a greater destiny in store for him.

Spam sighed, trying to write more and more slogans, still insisting on the "Big Shot" idea. He had been at this for hours, but something just had to work. Mike would be calling him any second now. Big Shot rides, Big Shot's cars, Big Shot—

RIIIIIIIIIING

As if on instinct, Spam immediately picked up the rotary phone and chimed in.

"Big Shot Autos, speaking! Take a [[Special Edition]] drive around town w-with our new [Exclusive] Big Shot Cars!"

There was silence on the other end for just a moment, and Spam worried that his mentor wasn't a fan of his impromptu greeting.

"DARN IT, SPAM! YA COULDN'T HAVE WAITED UNTIL WE WERE RECORDING?!" Mike's voice suddenly exclaimed from the phone "What're ya sellin'?! And most importantly, did ya make any of it in pink?!"

Spam snickered nervously, shaken by his own unexpected delivery. He wasn't sure of how he managed to come up with that on the spot. Maybe his Addison programming wasn't as broken as he thought? "Th-That's my sl0gan uh... [Catchphrase] ! It's a [[Work in Progress]]..." He stammered "I assume you have notes…"

"So many notes, kid! Always! But let's rewind, ya got me all worked up, Spam! I forgot why I'm even callin' ya in the first place."

"Don't say it's a [Mic Check] again, hehe... I've been working [[Hard]] since I w0ke up!"

"I can tell! What even got ya up so early? You better be getting fully charged before you start working! You're too young to be passin' out on me!"

"I don't charge, Mike… I just… [Sleep]..." Spam yawned, getting thoughtful. "I did have a weird dream, and I couldn't go back to sleep, so I figured I'd just… Y'know."

"Uh… Ya had a nightmare too…?" Mike's voice seemed concerned for just a moment before returning to usual "I take it that your meeting with your brothers didn't go too well?"

Spam looked surprised by this, pondering for a moment "Oh, uh… No, it w3nt [[GR3AT]] ! I just had WAY too much [Delicious Cake]…"

"Uh? Cake? What, was it your birthday or somethin'?"

"It might as w3ll be..." Spam looked at his sketches "They wanted to [[Celebrate]] me making [[SALES]] for the first time by taking me to a fancy [5 Star Review] restaurant in the mansion." He stalled for a moment, sighing "Still, it's not like I did much on my own without your help, and—"

"HEY. Don'tcha get started with me, kid!" Mike quickly protested, scolding "Take some credit for putting yourself out there, wontcha?! Not everyone's got the guts! Now what's this about Big Shot Autos? Are ya finally gonna reveal that big career idea ya had in mind?"

"Oh! A-Ab0ut [that]…" Spam felt embarrassed and anxious about disappointing his expectant mentor the same way his siblings were when he revealed that he wanted to be a car salesman. He supposed the microphone's unconditional support must have had a limit. "...My br0thers didn't think it w4s a very [Good idea] when I told them… "

"We want to hear it!" Mike exclaimed enthusiastically "Tell us ALL about your plans, Big Shot! How can we help?! Oh by the by! Did you see our gift? What did ya think?!"

Spam hesitated for a moment, the cascade of questions overwhelming him "Oh, the… the [Voicebox]…?"He lowered his volume to not alert the few distracted clients in his store.

"Precisely!"

Spam recoiled a bit overwhelmed "W-W3ll, I…" He sighed and quickly whispered "M-Mike, you kn0w I'm not [[Out of the closet]] to my family! Th-They'll n0tice if I change som3thing like [[That]] !"

"Hold on, Host is tellin' me somethin'"

"Uhm…" Spam tensed a bit at the mention of the TV darkner.

"He doesn't have to use it now or ever if he doesn't want to." Mike quoted his mute partner "Yes, exactly! I was gonna tell ya that as well, Spams!"

"Will it [[Repair]] my v0ice glitch3s at least?" Spam asked curiously.

"Uhm, well I don't know much about Addisons but maybe… Uh? It doesn't work like that?"Mike seemed to be speaking to Host again "Uhm. I see, yeah… Tough luck, kid. You'll have to try it to confirm that."

"H0W did you even [Get] this? I thought your [[TV Dark World]] had no Addisons!" He spoke out loud, getting a few odd looks from the clients as he gave them an embarrassed sheepish laugh and a wave.

"And it doesn't! None that I know of, at least! But our manager knows how to pull some strings. Soon you'll be getting big deals, offers and jobs and everythin' your heart desires! But I just have one question for ya."Mike spoke excitedly "What's Big Shot Autos?!"

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