Now's Your Chance!!! Spamton x Reader

Certified Discount

You pick at what's left of your steak.

You and Spamton haven't said a word to each other since you started eating. 

After all, what are you supposed to say? You have even less of an inclination to speak on noticing how deeply Spamton is in thought.

It's not like anything is wrong- if anything, it's a great development! But you still feel... uncomfortable. Does he... want your soul, now? You're only just getting to know him. You aren't ready, yet.

Spamton senses your distress.

"Hey, come on! Don't [[STRESS RELIEF]], kid! This is [[Smoldering]] [[f@ke n3wS]]!!!" He finally meets your eyes, offering a hesitant smile. But in that hesitance, you can see that he's having the same thoughts as you. He still wants your soul.

You cringe away from him reflexively. It's a small motion, but it's more than enough to send Spamton back to that tense silence.

You both finish your meals.

Eventually, the waiter stops by, asking if you'd like your check. You say "yes" before Spamton can get a word out, then return to silence until the waiter returns and places the check in front of you.

You pass it to Spamton. He examines it carefully.

He pulls out his wad of cash and smooths out each bill, counting up his money.

With a charming smile, he clips it onto the check and slides it towards the waiter.

"This should do, my good [[Life-Changing Sermons!!!1!!]]~"

The waiter's smile tightens.

"Sir, this is barely 15 D$," he pushes out.

"Precisely! With the [[SPAMTON G. SPAMTON CERTIFIED DISCOUNT]], this should be more than [[enough's enough!]]!" Spamton beams as though nothing's wrong.

You look on in mute terror. He really doesn't have anything.

"Wait, did you say Spamton?" The waiter asks, in disbelief. "Sir, you're banned from this establishment. I'm going to have to have you escorted out."

"Okay, okay, I see you know your [[DVDS Of Famous Movies]]. Let me cut you a deal." Spamton gives a sly smile. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a round blue object and pushing it across the table. He acts smug, as though it's the end-all be-all of deals.

The waiter picks up the object, looking at it and then Spamton with disgust.

And then it explodes in his face.

"[[RUN]]!!!!!!!!!" Spamton shouts, shoving you out of the booth and sprinting for the exit. 

In a heartbeat, you're on your feet and dashing after him, watching as those same round blue objects pour from his pockets and explode around him. Your heart pounds in your chest as you run. Guests scream around you. Everything is chaos.

"GET BACK HERE!!!!" Staff are yelling at you. A brief glance behind you tells you that security- two large Darkners with syringes for heads- are indeed after you. 

Spamton gets stuck at the doors, being too small to open them, so the moment you're with him you throw yourself into the doors and shove them open with your shoulder.

You burst through the doors with a bang. Spamton darts in front of you, panicked. The security Darkners are still behind you, refusing to give up the chase, as shown by the blaring sirens and flashing lights. You're not sure where you're going, but you just keep running.

Spamton's sweating, trying to keep pace with you. You can see him pushing himself to the limit. 

He may have gotten you into this mess, but you'd be damned if you weren't going to get him out of it.