Hit The Tapes!

by BloodieBees

Summary:

Just when you thought you were down in the gutter, all because a little VCR darkner like yourself is too out of date, one night you stumbled upon a new hope with a TV studio of all things. You decide that was worth a shot, even if it turned into a waste of time.

Will this sparkle of hope be the new stepping stone you needed most? Or will it just be yet another dead end job that'll only make you worse? Who's to say with a personality like yours....

Notes:

HIIIII this is my first fic ever, hope y'all like it

If you wanna keep up to date with future chapters, you can follow me on tumblr!!

Chapter 1: Prologue

If you weren’t already, you might be at your lowest point. You had long stopped counting how long it had been since your last job. Well, your last stable job. In the past, you beamed with confidence and joy knowing that no matter what, you would be needed somewhere. Rather it’d was playing back reruns of some trope riddled horror series or copying down beloved memories that’ll be cherished through generations. But the best opportunity, the one that you’d repeated to your colleagues every time you could? Being the one to film and edit for shows that would be shown to thousands! Millions, even!

“… But nowadays? Light World on’t want folks like— like me anymore! Not a single Light guy! I’m an oldie format! Who needs the amazingly reliable VHS when those new and ‘fancy’ and shiny disks!?”

Those string of mocking, yet loathing words would always spill out your mouth night after vacant night. After many uncounted drinks, a poor bartender needed to drag your intoxicated ass out. Even with your refusal to leave the establishment past its closing time. For this case, that was the third time that week.

It was Thursday.

“Yeah, yeah,” The bartender half answered with a drawn out breath, just like before. “you can’t keep comin’ back ‘ere like this. You can barely afford a drink, let alone a liver.”

Your rotted attitude suddenly shifted to sickeningly cheerful with the sound of film rushed though your body. “Whaaaa?” You drawn out as your head wobbled to look up at the bartender with a smile plastered on your flushed face. Or at least tried to, his grip on your shirt collar combined with the dizzying streetlights that blasted your face at the door. “That’s not yer problem! We don’t have the ‘iver. That’s a me praaaa—”

Your dry gag interrupted you as you made a feeble attempt to cup your mouth.

The bartender let out an irritated sigh as he placed you out on the sidewalk. “Just don’t throw up at the door again, I’m not letting you break my back… Don’t crack your head on the way home.”

Before you could think of an odd way to respond, the entrance shut with a heavy click following suit. You let out a groan as you reorientated yourself. Heavens, the lights were making it significantly harder to think, let alone see straight. You needed to get away as soon as possible. You lugged your body through the streets, occasionally disrupting strangers attempting to enjoy their night for directions near your street. You were drunk but not enough to give your direct address away, the thought of someone finding you in your rundown complex turned your stomach…

Wait, was it your overactive imagination or… Oh.

Oh God.

You flung your hands against the nearest telephone pole and dipped your reddened face towards the pavement. It felt like your soul exited your body. Minutes planted there left like hours. Body quivering out of internal strain as it emptied near your feet.

… Pathetic. You thought at the back of your mind.

Air exited your haggard lungs just as quickly as it entered. Vision drifting back together as you pushed your body away from the pole.

The sound of paper crinkled in your ears pierced through the ringing. Your eyes lazed up to the source, a brightly colored poster filled one of your hands. Rather it was out of curiosity or wipe your face, you pushed your hair out of your view and glance down at the sheet.

… A hiring post? That was your estimation anyway. You couldn’t read much of the text beyond the bold, rouge “Hiring now!” text above a drawing of a square headed man pointing at the viewer.

A sigh escaped you as you shoved the paper into a pocket. You had worse things to worry about, like the fact that you had been stuck here for who knows how long.

You resumed your trek back to your dreadful home. Just the same as before: stumbled up the stairs, to your door, take a minute to remember you kept your keys on your person, inhaled the closest non-alcohol liquid that wouldn’t make you want to die later, then passed out on your bed.

 

Daylight bleed into your room, straight in your face, providing as a natural alarm. Which was unfortunate considering the ache in your forehead creeping in as you sat up. You dug a palm into your head for an ineffectual massage as you made your way towards the edge of the bed.

Paper rustles in you pocket. You faintly recalled putting something in your pocket, what it was you had no clue. You fished it out and uncurl it.

The paper detailed about a television studio, belonged to the pointing Darkner that you now see has a TV for a head, that holding an open interview. Since it needed new multiple hires.

“That’s never a good sign…” You mumbled under your breath as you kept reading. Eyes glanced around looking for the location and what time the interviews would be held. “… Huh.”

It was today, and it’s not too far from a bus stop too.

You pat around yourself until you slid your phone from the inside of your shirt. Flipped it open and checked the time.

It started in a few hours from then.

You stared blankly at your screen for a moment. Weighing what minimal options you had for employment. Did you really want to twiddle your thumbs about some random callback or waste your time on some place that’s more than likely looking for people mirroring the latest tech?

You broke your self imposed silence. “It’s not like they’re not both the same thing.”

With that you threw yourself off the bed and shifted over to your closet. At this point, you had a default outfit. A button-up, skirt, pair of slightly uncomfortable flats, and a necktie. Not too bad, but you’d had to hope at times that the interviewer didn’t catch the fainted colors, from frequently tossing the set on and off. You then got yourself cleaned up enough so you didn’t look and smelled like you lived in a sewer… Well, it wasn’t entirely false to some degree.

As you was on your way out of your bedroom, phone and relevant enough documents shoved in your bag, you glanced at the pile VHS tapes sat on your makeshift vanity.

At times you would slot one into your head for memories stored in them. The sensation from some of them would give felt like a high. One that manufactured a presentable you, or at least until you’d need to force it back out. There used to be a time where you could’ve withstand that, no matter what stimulation they’d gave.

But…

You rapidly shook your head and slammed your hand on a tape, scanning the label momentarily. “Don’t pussy out now!” You shamed yourself as you pressed the eject button on you hand, swapping the tapes.

The moment your mind scanned the whimsical memories of the VHS, your posture flattened out and a smile plastered itself on your face. With the energy amounted to 100 milligrams of caffeine, you sped right out your apartment with gusto.

But, you had forgotten something that your revisited rush wouldn’t allow you to realize.

Chapter 2: Antsy

Summary:

It's the day of the open interviews. But you know you can handle that with this hungover, so you might as well use something to distract your body. Besides you were only planning on keeping it in until you got to your destination...

Right?

Notes:

I decided to be niceys and do a double update :3

Step after enlightened step guided you through the streets that led to your closest bus stop. Multi-colored cords making up your tail violently swayed up and down, in your aware state you would had been annoyed by you hitting yourself with them. You beamed with a sickeningly sweet smile on your face. Thankfully with your destination being deeper into the city, people that you passed by didn’t pay much attention to you. Sure some of them gave you a judgemental stare, but you were used to this for a while. Besides, we all have our vices, regardless of if they were willing to admit to it.

Plus for your case, it could help you! The, debatable, sober you would get you kicked out of the studio the moment you walked in. The consequences of the night before didn’t matter then. Ah, the wonders of kids’ show meant to keep the little guys planted in front of the TV!

Speaking of TV, how much longer was this bus going to take b— “Oh! There it is!” You shouted out your thought as you spot a bus approaching, startling the half-awake stranger sat next to you.

The moment the bus pulled up and opened its doors, you gave another shout laced with artificial joy. “Good morning, driver!!” As you marched inside and paid for your ride with what little change you had in your bag.

“Someone’s in a better mood.” The bus driver chuckled out with a knowing look in their eyes. You’re were quite familiar with the bus system, not enough to know each driver by name but by face and some routes. You didn’t mind this one since they didn’t make a big deal out of your mannerisms, even the ones like that day. Hell, they even seen you switch your tapes when you were in a rush…

Wait.

The thought struck you. You had opened your mouth to drum up a conversation from the pair of seats closest to the wheel, but a gasp lets out instead. You dug through your bag. Over and over. Opened and closed compartments. But to no avail.

“Where is it? Where is it? Where the fuck is it!?” You mumbled to yourself with frustration, hoping that you were overlooking. No. It’s not in there! You forgotten your original tape at home. You groan internally as you slid in your seat.

You knew there’s only so much you could withstand the hyperactivity of the tape you had playing right now. You were already feeling the facade it created starting to meet its end. You had to do something to provide as a buffer to keep this fake persona from messing up your chances too bad.

With shame oozing out through the forced smile, you slid out of your seat during a stop light. You hated bumming off of people but what other choice did you have? At the very least, part of you had the decency to wait until it wouldn’t distract the poor driver.

“Heeey, uh, driver—” Your attempt to approach as an old friend, despite them only knowing you for a month at the time, would be interrupted by the driver’s free arm blocking you.

“You’re already high as it is,” The driver addressed like an upset parent. “I’m not letting you smoke on top of that. Plus knowing you, you—”

“Listen! I know, I know. It’s bad right now,” You rugged the back of your neck with an unsteady hand. “But it’s actually important this time! I-I’m being honest here.”

You began to sweat, guessing that your fellow riders’ eyes became to burn holes into the back of your head. Which was a given at that point, you were making a fool out of yourself in your mind.

“Please please pleaseplease PLEASE!” Hands clasped together. “This job’s on the line h—”

Before you could continue, a cigarette is presented to you. You groan in relief and mumble a thank you loud enough for the driver to hear as you accepted the smoke.

“Sit down before you bust your ass.” They mumble back with a chuckle and continue the ride.

A few minutes pass as your eyes darted around. Both due to your own impatience and not being able to handle the energy that had increased in a noticeable rate. The moment it came to your stop, you rush off the bus. Not even shooting the bus driver a goodbye like you might’ve.

You cut through an alleyway, not to get there any faster but try to get a drag in before you made it to the studio. Annoyingly for you, your legs moved much faster than your hands could. Unlit cigarette glued to your lips as your destination drew near.

Weeds crept through the broken concrete that led to the building’s face. Every other light socket nearby the entrance was missing a bulb. Slanted signage with TV Time Studios barely hanging on. Several golden statues of the guy from the flier fainted in color… Last one was definitely… a choice. You seen business owners be confident in themselves, but this felt overboard. The only aspect you felt that was still in good condition were the abnormally tall front doors. Did they get their equipment through here?

Your passing questioning resulted in your body tilting to the side with an exaggerated hum. Oh hell, you really needed that smoke. After forcing your body back upright, you gave the area cursory glance. Not a single person approached the place since you showed up. Did you get here slower than what your feet made made you think? Were you actually late? Your phone answered with a most likely not once you checked the time. You were twenty minutes ahead of the ideal interview time. Perfect.

You began to step to the side while fishing out a lighter, just close enough to keep an eye out for anyone else.

… Or at least, that was the plan.

“Woah, look like someone’s aiming for the early worm!” An enthusiastic voice boomed from behind you.

When did anyone have time t—

OH GOD.

It was the man from the flier, towering over you with a wide smile plastered on his screen despite the distance.

“Oh-! Uh,” You stumbled out as you shoved your relief into your pockets. Now fully turned to face him, you stuck a thumb up and smiled up at him. The corners of your mouth twitched as you forced your body from smiling too much. “Sure am, sir! Can’t let anyone else call the shots when you got talent like me!”

The sweat that pooled below your collar worsen as the TV headed man laughed and slid closer. “I like your confidence!” He shouted as he pumped his glove-clad hands into the air. “And just who’s this moxie attached to!?”

Your body was far too eager to answer, shouting it as if you were attempting to contest the man’s volume. You can’t let yourself press your luck any farther than you did with your display of ego. Sure you’d say that to yourself, especially after a few hard drinks, but not to someone this obviously important.

“And who am I the pleasure to meet a handsomely sharp man like yourself!?” Despite you extending your hand to him with your smile expanding on it own, you felt your insides curl up and wither away. That tape always did exaggerate your confidence, hell you wouldn’t play it if it didn’t help to some extent, but not to the point of openly flirting. Internally, you brace for the worst, only to be met with a…

A wobbly smile? “Oh you {CHARMER},” His voice cracked ever so slightly as he fidgetted with his tie… Was that a blush mark? “Don’t you know flattery gets you nowhere?”

There was barely much of a pause as he continued, holding a hand to the side of his screen to whisper to an invisible audience. “Okay, maybe it’ll get you somewhere but we can’t get too unprofessional.”

Not much of a chance to process the implication, his hands engulfed yours and shook your entire body. “Tenna! Mr. Ant Tenna! Dark World’s number one TV host!”

Just as suddenly, he let you go to grasp the sides of his head with a gasp. Screen flickered to static. “And what kind of host would I be if I showed up late!? I’ve got a show to run, the people need their entertainment!” He then pointed a finger at you with his screen back to the bright face. “I’ll see you after the show!”

The moment he slid right into the studio, you dug your palms into your forehead with a pained groan. “Frick…” You mumbled a censored swear under your breath. Well, you’d had to go inside as well to your dismay. The vibrations throughout your self had worsen with time, or at least that was the immediate guess. Your stomach sunk deeper as your surroundings were beginning to have that brightly colored blur. It’s only going to get worse as you stayed, regardless of rather or not you gave up and ejected that tape.

You stilled your rapidly rising chest and pushed forward.

There wasn’t much of a chance to process the studio’s interior. One blink, you were asking a clearly startled crew member where to go. Another blink, you were planted into the first seat in a row of others. A knee bounced uncomfortably until you slapped the sides of your head. A hissed breath through your teeth, begging for any form of clarity.

“Next!” A commanding voice from a door nearby jolted you from your chair. You immediately marched into the room.

Questions went in one ear and out the other the moment you sat back down. The interviewer’s eyes burnt holes into you, a knowing, irritated expression. With their face only souring more as the interview went on, as with each answer you giggled and waved your hands without conviction.

It felt like the interview itself only went on for seconds, but with the way you ran your mouth it extended that by a mile. The interviewer must’ve felt the same way.

“That’s great,” Their tone was mono, especially as they hesitated on your surname. “but unfortunately we are short on time. I would say we’ll contact you we do decide to move forward. But—”

They shifted a hand where your resume sat, only for the document to suddenly vanish. “—we’re not exactly looking for someone with someone of your… format and demeanor.”

Your stomach sunk. Before you’d let them finish, you suddenly shoot out of your seat. The interviewer blinked up at you in confusion right before you sped out of the room.

Before you knew it, you were face deep into a running sink. White knuckling as colored static exited your mouth.

It felt like hell. But at least that high calmed down.

Your grip on the rim loosens as you looked up at the mirror. You briefly glanced at the mess presented in front of you, before your tired but shocked looked past you as a Shadowguy awkwardly looked around. His mouth opened with an attempt to break the tension, but you stumbled out before you could hear a single note.

You sighed to yourself as you made way for the entrance. You shouldn’t have came here. It would’ve been better if you just stayed your hungover ass at home, especially for you to once again be insulted.

“Someone of my format!?” Thoughts blasted from you, not giving a damn about the crew members you pass. “Why can’t anyone appreciate film anymore!? I can work just as well as anyone else, if not better. I know editing and recording like the back of my ha—”

Just as you raised yours, the same huge hand from before grabbed it and shook it like before. Except with increased excitement. An overwhelming screen and pointed nose blocked your way even further.

“You’re {HIRED}!!”

…

“… Huh?” You tiredly blinked up as he lets your arm go.

“You’ll be starting bright and early on Monday!!” His overjoyed voice echoed the hall as he repeatedly pumped his arms into the air.

…

…

“… What!?”

Chapter 3: First Days and Looming Screens

Summary:

It's finally Monday, but are you really ready to work here? You have to make sure you were presentable for your first day.

Notes:

HI!! I was only expectin only my friends who're also insane about Tenna like me
Hope y'all like this chapter, more Tenna in the soon future!!

As Monday morning rolled in, you still felt the need to slap yourself the moment you sat up in bed. Just to make sure you weren't still asleep somehow. You couldn’t lay in disbelief any more, like he said, you’d start bright and early. Today.

Now what were you starting with?

You,

didn’t remember. Did he tell you what your role would be? He did interrupt your rambling, so you guessed that he overheard your rambling…Speculation was pointless then, considering you’d find your answers today. All that would’ve done was kept you in bed. Starting at the cigarette stains that remained due to your procrastination. You had to peel yourself up at some point, you had an eventual day ahead of you… Hopefully.

Once dressed, you stepped over to your tapes collection, a box that could never keep its contains. There was plenty of recordings to choose from, but you picked a generic job training tape. It made you feel bland, but at least it helped you absorb as much information as possible. In retrospect, you wished you took it with you a few days ago as well. Maybe it would’ve made the hiring process smoother.

“… Damn.” You mumbled to yourself as you inspected the tape, from the illegible label to a long missing clear panel that covered the film. Despite that, you tucked it into your bag with a sigh. “Whatever, at least the reel isn’t spilling out yet.”

You didn’t want to risk the chance of forgetting your original tape again. It’s be best to wait you’re back at the studio. Which you then made your way to get there.

Despite the lack of noteworthy delay, you still left the bus a few minutes pass your start time. You groaned at the possible reaction the training tape as you swapped it in during your walk to the studio. It felt like you teleported once the other tape was slotted in, before you could blink, you were suddenly at the entrance. Posture straight with a forced smile, thankfully not to the same degree as a few days prior.

Before you could push one of the studio’s doors open, someone from the inside pulled it before you with gusto.

“Good morning!” Mr. Tenna greeted you, his enthusiasm shook you to your core. “I can see it written all over you! You’re just itching to start working!”

“Of course, sir, I could never miss an opportunity like this.” You answered with a certain flatness. You continued once you caught a Mr. Tenna’s smile flatter ever so slightly when he let you step inside. “What will be my duties for to— today?”

The skip was strong enough to cause your head to jolt backward. The casing over the top of his screen rose in surprise. But he was easy to turn it back around, despite the smudge of red that was on your face.

“Woah, sounds like someone’s a little nervous.” He bent down and nudged your shoulder with a finger as he jested, causing you to… chuckle? Huh? “But there’s no need to be! You’re perfect for the job, positively made for it!”

You felt the tape skip again, effectively missing your chance to actually ask your question. The taps you made to the side of your head weren’t fast enough to get the skipping to pause, before Mr. Tenna stopped near the end of a hallway. You then realized you were so fixed to your boss’s handsome self that you didn’t remotely get a chance to observe your surroundings… Wait, why your thoughts go with that descriptor?

“Inside is your TV-tastic, state-of-the-art editing room!” He shouted in delight as he fanned his hands at the door to the aforementioned.

Out of pure shock, your body paused the tape with force. “My… My room?” Your voice back to its typical tired tone. “Are you trying to butter me up or something?”

You scrambled to find your play button to have your training tape make up for your comment, but Mr. Tenna wasn’t as offended as you would expect, like your past employers. Or at least not visibly.

“W-Well!” His voice cracked subtly. “You see, I couldn’t help but to do a bit of a research on you after our exchange.”

You readied a comment, however bland it would’ve been after you resumed your tape, if you weren’t caught off guard yet again. How’s it possible for him to get even taller!? If he grew any more, no doubt that’d be a messy clean up process… unless that happened often.

Mr. Tenna continued, sliding closer despite the missing personal space. “Your name had rung too many bells for me to have someone look into you, and sure enough, I was right! So your work can be left out in the cold, harsh r—!”

Just as you felt your tails to begin to wag on their own, Mr. Tenna suddenly paused and turned away from you… thankfully. A few echoed beeps and unintelligible mumbling from him before he shrunk back down. He adjusted his tie before facing you again. “Looks we’ll have to cut things, I’ve got a show to run!”

“Oh! What— What should—” Before you could finish your question, he’s gone just like that around some corner. After some bewildered blinks, you hot-swapped your tape then let out a sigh. Training tape stuffed into your bag out of pure frustration. Another tape you can’t anymore or it’d put your job in jeopardy.

…

But now that you could hold non-corporate thought, you let yourself be confused. “How the hell did find out that fast?” You questioned under your breath. “I’m good, but not that good… Maybe the guy has some poor saps at the ready for that sorta thing.”

The thought of that made your tails swing, which you were quick that time to grab them. You then drew your attention to the editing room. Inside was… fairly decent. Sure, you dropped your standards due to the several musty work rooms, but the moving wallpaper? A desk chair that didn’t look too uncomfortable? A pile of unfinished tapes that was only positioned behind the desk?

… You glanced at the rest of the room, only to find more tape piles cluttering the room.

With a huff, you turned the lights off and dropped yourself and belongings at your freshly-claimed desk.

---

Hours flew past the moment you turned on your equipment. If your eyes weren’t glued to the individual frames, they was analyzing the lackluster editing guide. Good thing you’ve worked with less. You only faintly remembered one of your coworkers getting you to take your lunch at one point, but for the most part, you were remained in your work room.

For a moment, your eyes flicked to a clock on the wall. “Shit, it’s getting late.” You then debated with yourself. There was at least four days worth of show and report blocks that you added. But you were in the middle of turning that into five… you justified continuing your work by not wanting to leave your job undone.

Before you could focus back up, the clatter of plastics sent a shock through your spine. Immediately, you whipped your head… nothing, or at least you didn’t notice anything too different beyond extra tapes on the floor.

An unknown amount of minutes passed and more falling tapes. Still nothing significant.

Ten minutes…

Five…

Two.

You gave up on checking behind you. Briefly.

Why did everything get brighter? There was mostly dark colors on your screen.

You sat in stilled silence.

Swung your head around once again.

“M-Mr. Tenna!?”

The both of you jolted back, enough for you to leap out of your chair and for him to slip and fall back into the pile.

“Sir, what the hell are you doing!?” You confronted as you stood… over him? You watched as you suddenly become the taller one of the two. The editing screen became the only source of light in the room once again.

“I just,” He hesitated as he fidget with one of his gloves. “wanted to see a master at their work. You know, to get a sneak peek at your performance…”

He kept going on and on, quieter with each sentence. Your eyebrows pinched together as you stared down at him with several emotions in your mind.

It threw you for a loop on why or how you didn’t hear him enter the room. Yes, you were focused, but not enough to not notice a ten foot tall darkner in the right in front of you. That was just… weird. But on the other hand, you felt a warmth rush through you. Mr. Tenna was the first time in years to be this interested in your process. The first person to want to watch you splice footage, adjust the coloring, and add your own flare.

You grabbed your tails out of instinct as you sighed.

“Boss,” You called to him, he pauses his rambling and looks up at you. “I wouldn’t mind you… watching, but at least say something beforehand? You scared the hell out of me do—”

Before you could finish speaking, Mr. Tenna suddenly returned back to his towering height with a blinding smile.

Chapter 4: Changes on top of Changes

Summary:

Some say a bit of change at the right time can take you places, but would you really want to go that far like this?

Notes:

HIIII, comments got me kickin my feet so I bruteforced through work to write this chapter! remember to follow me on tumblr for fic updates and such things :3

Days had past since the first, more than a week’s worth. That time you woke up a good couple of hours before your alarm would’ve done that for you. The first thing your barely adjusted eyes locked on upon sitting up as a mirror. As your vision centered, you concentrated on yourself. Long and hard. Morphed from neutral to sudden discomfort.

“This needs to change again. Now.” You rasped from your warming vocal cords before leaping up towards your pile. Digging through it until you pulled out a body building instructional tape. You always wondered which of the Dreamurrs this was initially for, with it being so targeted towards men rather than a general audience. Especially since the instructor was so obnoxious. Thankfully, you wrote down different timestamps on the tape to avoid as much of his personality imprinting on you. Thank goodness for the you that had the time to do that.

You didn’t spend too much time with that tape, you desired a mix of self satisfactory confidence of both ends of the spectrum. The last thing you’d want was to slim down your handsome fat.

…

Maybe I’d really get his attention.

“What!?” You shouted to yourself in confusion, as if someone spoke that thought aloud. You shook your head, as if that would’ve rid your face from it’s warmth.

Weakly shoving down these thoughts yet again, you shot up and heavily step into the rest of your morning preparations. You shouldn’t think of your boss, not like that.

You sharply exhaled as you inspected yourself. Just like always whenever you swapped genders, it didn’t take long for you to start to start admiring yourself subconsciously. Not for too long, you had a job to get to.

---

Just like the first time, you inserted your training tape before walking inside. Sure the skips made some interactions with your co-workers annoying, but it was either that or the you that was shoved in your bag. Some of them waved, gave a good morning, or a simple acknowledging nod as your body plainly done the same and kept moving. A good few kept their eyes on you for a moment at your sudden change of appearance and wardrobe. It made you feel smug deep down, but nothing too major…

That was not going to last too long.

Before you could reach the hallway of your workspace, distant shouting was caught by your ears. No matter how much the good little worker tape tried to get you to mind your business, you could never keep yourself out of ours. Naturally that lead to you swapping it out for your usual, that VHS absolutely wouldn’t let you stay out of sight. Some would call this shameless nosiness… they would be correct.

“Was that… Mr. Tenna yelling?” You whispered to yourself as the voice became clear enough. You briefly peeked around the closest corner you could glance from.

Sure enough, it was your boss. Sharp teeth bared and smoke poured out of his vent as he towered over a few of your terrified coworkers, some stood in terror while other plead to him. You could just barely focus on the exchange of words due to your eyes repeatedly drawing to your boss… You tried your hardest to fix that.

“Sir, please!” A Pippin shakily attempts to get through to him. “W-We did try, but they were out of the budget aga—”

“And who’s fault was that!?” Mr. Tenna cut them off. With how close he got to them, visibly clawed hands rose towards them, one more wrong word and they’d be off the ground. “Time and time again! You bunch gamble away my budget, and right before a broadcast too!? … Maybe I will kick all of your’s pay down a peg or three to get it in your heads.”

Another darkner trembled forward. “No, Mr. Tenna please don’t! We’ll do anything—”

“Then get me a new contestant before I—”

A floor tile’s creak silenced the scene. Your heart sunk into your stomach, all of them were looking your way.

Including Mr. Tenna.

All you could think was book it out of there. But just as you spun around, you were knocked backwards onto the floor. Before your vision could adjust—

“{YOU},” Mr. Tenna boomed at you, volume stabbing your mind as you began to tremble. “I don’t remember hiring a detective! Yet here… you… are…”

You cut his trailing words without much effort at all. “Mr. Tenna, please!” Voice cracked in different places. “Me? A detective?” You forced a laugh. ”I didn't see a thing, I wouldn't tell anyone! I'll do anything! Just don't—”

Through your partially manufactured panic, even with the amount of sweat pooled at your brow, you realized your boss hadn't interrupted at all. Dead silent, if it weren't for his cooling system attempting to catch up. With some hesitation, you opened your eyes up at him.

He stood over you, frozen and mouth agape. Heat still poured from the sides of his head, but with the shade pink that beamed from him, it was no longer of anger.

“Mister…” You attempted to break the silence as you stared in confusion. “Mr. Tenna?”

Within a blink, he straightened his posture and folded his arms behind himself. Screen switched to an unreadable dark.

“I- Go to my office.”

“Huh?”

Without addressing your increased confusion, he looked past you. “All of you aren't off the hook, get back to work!”

Just like that, your boss sped off like his life depended on it.

You blinked a few times as if it would help to process what happened. Looking back, you tried to gauge how much you might be in trouble by the remaining pippins behind you. A mix of confusion and worry as they looked back before darting off themselves.

“Great…” You sighed as you finally removed yourself from the tiling. No use delaying it, chances are you’d piss him off more by staying here. You made your way back over to him, staring down at the floor.

Your fist hung still over his lavish, massive door, decorated in moving stars. Thoughts urged you to turn around and head to work, but of course your body acted before your mind.

His voice cracked with… glee? From inside, you heard him clear his throat before attempting to invite you again. You couldn't really pay much attention to his room, beyond the colorful posters plastered on the wall behind him. All you knew to do was sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Silence hung overhead as you stared at each other, to an extent you stared at yourself as well through his screen. Only when you opened your mouth—

“So, anything, right?”

You only managed to answer his painfully flatly toned question with a nod. Immediately your mind started to race from him latching onto that. Just as quickly, it began to fall into the gutter as he let your answer float in his head. He scratched the bottom on his casing as you internally shouted at your inappropriate thoughts to leave.

“Well then,”

His untranslatable demeanor abruptly changed mid sentence. He beamed at you as his screen glowed back to life. “how about you be our replacement for the third contestant!?”

Your terror shifted at the question. Never in your life have you been asked to do this. Yes, you replaced someone's spot plenty of times before. Cameraperson? A few times. Audience plant? Yep. Stunt double? You thought you broke a rib, but you lived. Directly in front of the camera?

“Wh-What!? No!” You shouted at him as you stood out your seat. Your boss staring in shook as you continued. “I can't do that! You can't put me in front and center like this, I'm not going to—”

The sound of wood scratching paused your mouth and sat you back down. You expected him to bark back as his claws burrowed into the desk’s surface. Instead, he began to shrink.

“Oh, th-that's a shame.” He mumbled as he progressively vanished into his seat. “You would've made a perfect guest appearance. With a look like that, from head to toe, you would've knocked them dead before the first challenge.”

Your heart skipped. Was he…

Did he just compliment you?

You stared at the back of chair as heat crept to your face. He didn't mention your work at all this time, he commented about you.

Oh no.

Consideration stirred in your mind. You didn't have anything that could help you beyond your training tape, you had high doubts that would aid at all. There's no way you could perform well or even be funny on purpose.

But it felt like you grabbed Mr. Tenna's chest and twisted with that level of shock he expressed. It felt too genuine for him to be attempting to guilt trip you… Not fully at least.

A heavy minute passed as Mr. Tenna continued to mumble about. Guilt sunk in your mind.

Against your better judgement, you sharply inhaled before you stood up, wrapping around to face his minimized frame. He silently turned to you from his slump.

“Okay, I'll do it. But only if I get something in return—”

You yelped as your sentence is interrupted by a… hug?

“You've got a {DEAL}!”

Notes:

sadly or not sadly, I wrote too much for this so I'd had to split this chapter into its own thing. dw though I'll get the next down as soon as possible o7