The Rise And Fall Of Spamton G. Spamton

Chapter 13

Spamton hummed to himself, organizing his apartment as he prepared to have the Addisons over. He dusted, vacuumed, did his laundry, amongst other things. He'd purchased quite a few amenities to improve his little home over the last few days. Things hadn't been quiet at Big Shot Autos! Even while we were filming parts of the commercial, I couldn't resist putting out a few pop-up ads for our dealership. Mike was taken off guard when we almost instantly had customers coming in to check our cars! Totally beat trying to sell pipis, that was for sure. A shame my first product never took off...

Spamton glanced around, admiring the work he had done to make this little apartment feel like home. He had a computer in his room now, along with a desk. He had a larger, but slightly shorter dining table, and a larger Tv, amongst other things. He also had a mobile phone now. Just in case he ever had to take calls away from home, and so far it had come in handy. He'd already taken quite a few, directing them to the store and/or handling Lightner's purchases over the phone. It was an all hands on deck job, and he knew Mike was probably pretty busy too.

"Busy, but happy. Today we're putting out our first big ad. Hopefully all that work pays off..." He mutters to himself, smiling as he thought about how excited all his friends would be to see his success. Finally, they wouldn't have to pity him anymore. They could see him climb to the pedestal he always knew he deserved. His place on the stage, in the spotlight he had earned!

He looked around at his apartment, smiling at how clean everything was. His hard work was paying off, and his muse was helping things along. Everything felt like it was going in the right direction. Spamton took a deep breath, glancing at the clock on the wall to see the time. It was almost 6 'clock, time for his big commercial to show.

"I'm so excited, I could burst!" He giggles, squirming with excess energy. Maybe getting hopped up on soda at the dealership this morning was a bad idea. Mike decided it was a good idea to stock up on sugary treats for me in the mini fridge. I mean- an endless supply to replenish my magic wasn't a bad idea, but if I had too much, I ended up getting jittery. Luckily, theres a very productive way to solve that.

Spamton eagerly brought his hands up. With a brilliant spark of magic, pop ups sprung from his fingertips. First a couple, then dozens of them, floating around the room in a circular waltz. This practice was making him stronger, bolder. His magic capabilities were increasing, and instead of fizzling out after a few seconds, he could withstand holding up multiple pop-ups for an extended period. This was essential if he wanted anyone to notice his products.

He carefully altered each of the pop-ups, all of them sporting a picture of a red car. He takes a deep breath, trying to change them so all of the pop-ups were different. He could feel himself spreading his magic thin as the ads changed to different colors. His soul ached with the burn of fatigue, but still he pressed himself further. He knew he couldn't get better unless he did this strenuous exercise. He let out a sharp huff, allowing the pop-ups to fade with a fizzle of magic. He reaches up to his brow and wipes it, letting out a soft groan.

"Still not strong enough, eh? Ah well, I'll get there. Just a little while longer." He murmurs to himself, raising his hand to make a single bullet. A little dollar-sign appeared above his palm, spinning slowly. He chuckles, carefully moving it around his apartment. The controls for it were oddly sensitive. The further away it was, the harder it was to control.

It was almost like playing with magnets, but in reverse. The closer the magnets are, the easier they are to move without losing control and making them zip around.

Spamton sighs, waving his hand and dematerializing the bullet. He was beginning to wonder if his friends were ever going to arrive. He had told them to be here before six, hadn't he? He sighs, wondering if the traffic had held them up. Rush hour is always insane in this city, he reminded himself to be patient. Still, he needed to do something to pass the time.