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Tenna hurriedly busted open the door to his personal dressing room, the light from the hallway outside spilled into the room before Tenna flicked on the light switch. The CRT collapsed into the chair in front of his vanity, which seemed to creak somewhat under the sudden weight. A long sigh escaped Tenna as he rested his screen in his hands and achieved some sort of relief from his stress.
Tenna peeked at his reflection in the mirror, his expression was no doubt one of worry. Rubbing his metaphorical eyes, Tenna sat up straight in his seat and brushed off his blazer. He wiped a bit of dust off of the top of his screen before adjusting his antennae. Tenna peered back into the mirror and adorning his award-winning smile once again. He had to look perfect for this next board. He couldn't take another round of disappointment.
Unbeknownst to the CRT a certain someone had snuck into his dressing room beforehand and was observing his moment of vulnerability.
A sudden shuffling noise caused Tenna’s antennae to twitch. He whipped his head around to scan the room behind him.
Nothing.
After ensuring nothing was spying on him from behind, Tenna cautiously rotated back towards the mirror. However, as his vision settled back into the humming light from his vanity, Tenna spotted something in the reflection.
Tenna sprung out of his seat, the last thing he needed was some kind of infestation. The CRT faced the intruder, prepared to face whatever rat, dust bunny, or-
Tenna instinctively jumped backwards, knocking into his own vanity and in turn rustling all the items on top, making a bottle or two fall to the floor.
"Ugh! What what WHAT. Is. THAT!" Tenna yelped at nobody in particular.
What shuttered around in front of him was some sick, gangly little thing. Like a marionette you'd find on some experimental children's program, the creature extended out one of its grubby mitts and spoke. "[Trash heap]!!! DO YOU REALLY NOT RECOGNIZE YOUR FAVORITE [[Number 1 Rated Salesman1997]]???"
Tenna was speechless, not even really listening to what the horrible beast just said. Some stray circuit inside Tenna’s head sparked, “Good gravy folks, it can talk!” One of Tenna’s antennea twitched after his quip. No, something really did feel oddly familiar about this thing. Maybe it was that cheesy grin, or the dark, greased back hair. It was like looking at some lame knock-off version of an old friend.
It couldn't be.
Could it?
“Sss-spamton?” The CRT cautiously trailed off, as if he was trying not to offend.
“NOW [[We’ve Got It!]]” Spamton finally cackled out. “CAN”T SAY I BLAME YOU [Cathode]. I COULD HARDLY RECOGNIZE YOU .”
Tenna’s screen flickered. Why? Tenna was the same TV he always was! He had all the same glitz and glamour as he did all those years ago.
“I MEAN TALK ABOUT [[Top 10 Celebrity Weight Gains]]!”
Tenna’s screen just about shut off as those words processed across his circuit board. The TV shook his head before carefully glancing down at himself. He hadn't gained weight! Had he? No, just some healthy padding, everyone gets it eventually. The thought continued to travel through Tenna's machinery. As they get older…
Tenna grabbed both sides of his head, trying to release himself from this horrible thought prison that his old business partner decided to unleash on him. "I've got not a single CLUE about that particular topic! I mean really! What did you even just say! Say it again, I implore you."
Spamton twitched, he looked thoroughly satisfied with himself.
Truthfully, Spamton really didn't believe his eyes when he had seen his ex-partner again for the first time in years. It was the whole reason he decided to scamper off on his own and berate the drama screen. Just a few years without Spamton G. Spamton and Tenna had completely let himself go! And he meant completely.
No longer was the tiny waisted TV host. Tenna had the same gorgeous screen (save for a few scuffs and a touch of burn in) of course, but further down was a different story. Tenna was probably a good hundred pounds heavier, give or take (give). His new, soft gut and chest strained the buttons on the front of his blazer, and threatened to bust the cheesy gold belt buckle that adorned his black leather belt. Somehow the TV’s famously tight pants were even tighter around his giant thighs without busting the seams. From where Spamton was standing he could hardly see the Cathode's screen around his gut.
Spamton thought that maybe he should tell Tenna that the blazer being tucked in only made him look fatter.
"YOU EVER [[Try Now!]] UTILIZING SOME [[$6.99 Women's ShapeWear]]???"
"MAYBE [[Put Down The Fork]] AND AT LEAST [try] TO KEEP UP APPEARANCES??? I GUESS YOU NEVER COULD [[Lay Offs]] THE TV DINNERS."
Tenna's display flipped to a hot red. The overly small creature really was Spamton.
"You certainly are one to talk!" Tenna started, through a mixture of anger and embarrassment, "You're not the looker you once were either! You come into MY dressing room looking like sewage. How on earth does one even manage to get SHORTER."
That last remark did kind of sting. However, Spamton couldn't deny just how hot it was to see his former partner all red and defensive about becoming such a fat ass. If he still had a dick it'd definitely be pitching a tent in his pants (If his pants weren't grafted onto his skin also). He just had to get a taste of this dusty old TV, and he knew just the way.
"[Cathode]!!! PAL!!! I'M JUST [horse race test] WITH YOU."
Spamton twitched, he hasn't once tried to be nice in years.
"IT LOOKS [great] ON YOU, REALLY!"
Tenna's display flipped back to his usual illuminating white, “You really think you can just weasel your way back into my production after everything???”
Spamton shuffled closer, loose joints creaking as he went. “OF COURSE NOT… I’M SURE THIS [[Big Screen]] HAS GOT [crowds] OF POTENTIAL SUITORS!”
Tenna backed up away from the vanity as the scraggly doll approached him, finding himself pressed against the arm of his love seat.
“Of! Of course!” Tenna lied, antenna twitching. “Haven't had a dry spell in years…” He folded his arms on top of his belly, angling his head away from Spamton.
Spamton hoisted himself onto Tenna's vanity chair to get a better angle on the telly.
"I'M [shore] I'M [shore]!!! I MEAN WHO WOULDN'T WANNA [[Get It Together]] WITH A REAL [[BIG] SHOT]!" Spamton punctuated his statement with a gleeful grab n shake of Tenna's soft underbelly.
Tenna threw his arms back, screen going blank. The sheer audacity of the puppet caused Tenna to reel away. As he went, the TV’s foot caught on one of the previously fallen bottles, causing him to slip and fall backwards onto the love seat with a loud thud.
Now this was right where Spamton wanted him.
Spamton grabbed onto Tenna's dangling leg and clambered up on top of the giant TV. Spamton nestled himself right where Tenna's chest met his belly and noted the boob tube's blank screen.
"Go on and KILL me ! I give up." Tenna wobbled out sadly, throwing a dejected arm over his screen to cover his face.
"DON'T BE [[Insane Deals!]]"
"I SAW THAT DISPLAY OF [[UTT3R DESPAIR]] EARLIER." Spamton wrapped his paw around Tenna's tie, giving it a slight tug which produced a sort of choked up sound from Tenna.
"YOUR [wires] ARE ALL WOUND UP TOO TIGHT! YOU NEED A LITTLE [genorisity]"
"You're just making a fool of me again."
"[[Don't Miss it!]] THIS GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY."
“[who] ELSE BUT [[Little Ol’ Me]] WOULD BE WILLING TO [Take The Edge Off!]???”
Tenna's screen fizzled back on as Spamton undid his tie. Little white paws traced over the fabric of Tenna’s dress shirt and blazer.
"It has been… a while." Have some dignity.
“THEN GO ON AND [[Lose The Shorts!]]”
Spamton grinned deviously, he knew the dusty old tube would be up for it. Tenna carefully undid the lower buttons of his blazer while Spamton popped open the ones on the TV's dress shirt. Spamton finally got to have a look at the premium goods. He grazed his mitts over Tenna's wide chest, eyeing the VHS player that made up the space in the middle. He flicked at some of the buttons next to the VHS slot which seemed to do nothing but cause Tenna to squirm in anticipation.
The real star was Tenna's gut. Spamton would never admit how hot it was really getting him. The TV's soft innards were covered with a smooth silicone fabric. So completely different from Tenna's previous exterior, which Spamton always thought was too hard. He silently wished he could've seen this TV bloat himself up in real time. That would've been a sight for sore eyes…
Spamton pictured Tenna stuffing himself silly, whining and gasping Spamton's own name between handfuls of TVSlop. Maybe Tenna would be wearing an older suit, letting his gut hang out of the dress shirt, pant seams splitting from the sheer mass of the CRT's ass. His display a bright pink while he begs that jerk Mike to size up his suit. This imaginary scenario ran through Spamton's head on repeat, making him twitch.
The puppet savored this scene as he unconsciously began grinding into the silicone fabric. Feeling it squish against his crotch and leg joints. Tenna watched Spamton desperately rub a nonexistent cock against his belly. Honestly it was kind of cute, but he had needs too. Tenna cleared his throat as if to say, "This is about me, not you." Spamton pulled himself away from his fantasy and glanced at the impatient television. What, was he not allowed to have his own fun? He furrowed his brows and brought his focus back to Tenna's chest.
Spamton fiddled with the flap on Tenna's VHS slot before shoving his whole mit inside and fondling the interior. Tenna seized up as Spamton unceremoniously began feeling up and teasing each little gear and motor inside him. Pathetic moans from the old TV rung in Spamtons ear like music. He held the flap open with one hand (still feeling up Tenna's belly with the other) and brought his face up close to the entrance of the slot.
Tenna gasped as a curious tongue snaked around inside him, running against all the sensitive rollers. He pushed his chest up into Spamton, gripping the sides of the loveseat. The movement caused Spamton to slip and his crotch to press up against Tenna’s belly again. It felt amazing, he should’ve came back years ago if it meant he could’ve been fucking a fat TV the whole time. If only he had his perfect body again, he could have bent the boob tube over that vanity and fuck his fat ass without all the drama Tenna put him through.
Tenna interrupted Spamton’s fantasy again, shoving the puppet’s head up against the VHS slot. What? Was he slacking? Spamton glared up at the screen through his brows and the big oaf was drooling! He ran his tongue over a gear, noting the dusty flavor. God it really has been a while since Tenna got any tail. Electronic purring coupled with the sobbing moans told Spamton everything.
He wondered if Tenna could even still reach the little dial he called a dick over his gut. He continued grinding harder, gasping at his realization. He certainly wouldn't try, he'd probably get crushed under the CRT's belly just trying to get to it himself…
Spamton felt up the exposed circuit board inside Tenna with his tongue, Tenna seized up, gasping. Already? No way. Spamton rolled his eyes and drew his tongue back, not a chance he'd let the TV get off that easily. Tenna whined at the sudden revoke of pleasure.
“[[ah ah ah!]] GOOD TVS DON'T SKIP TO THE [Season Finale] TILL THE AUDIENCE IS READY!”
“Oh you little sponge…!” Tenna cried out, desperately reaching a hand up to fiddle with the VHS slot himself. “I need this.”
“[[Want or Need]] [Cathode] I DON'T THINK YOU”VE EARNED IT!” Spamton smacked the gloved hand away.
“TREATING YOUR OLD PAL LIKE SOME [$2.99 Trash Pick Up] WHILE YOU'VE BEEN [[All Alone On a Friday Night?]]”
Tenna's antennae straightened up, red display lighting up the puppets face. “You rat! I've earned plenty after what you said to me!”
To Spamton's surprise, Tenna's large hand was reacquainted with the back of his head, shoving him back down onto the VHS player. Another hand met with Spamton's ass, five of the fingers pressing Spamton up against Tenna's own belly while the thumb rubbed circles on the puppets' blank crotch.
Spamton moaned, tongue running deep into Tenna again. He twitched and jerked his crotch into the TV's touch. Spamton didn't even think about how Tenna's hands had gotten bigger too.
Spamton wasted no time and wriggled his tongue up against that exposed circuit board, slowly then faster. The electronic purring from inside Tenna got more intense and he rewarded Spamton by rubbing his thumb all the way up and down the puppet's torso, making him squirm. A warm array of colors from Tenna's screen lit up Spamton's plight.
This damn boob tube. Making Spamton G. Spamton into his own personal spectacle with just a few strokes of his thumb. Maybe once this was over he'd force feed Tenna his own TVDinners till the CRT was too big to move, his own massive gut pinning him to the floor. Till that stupid gold belt buckle snapped in half. Till he couldn't do anything but get stuffed and fucked by Spamton.
Spamton frustratedly pressed and held down on some of the buttons on Tenna's chest. The TV moaned, chest rising and screen blurring.
Tenna seized up again. This time he kept a firm hand on Spamton's head, urging him to continue. The puppet dragged his tongue across the edge of the circuit board, feeling the TV shutter. Tenna squeezed Spamton tighter, reeling his head backwards. His screen flashed to color bars, grip remaining tight on the puppet’s head, ensuring he kept going as Tenna rode out his orgasm.
A sharp electrical shock stung Spamton’s tongue due to the CRT’s sudden orgasm. Spamton reeled back from the pain, flimsily falling backwards on Tenna's belly. The plush orb jiggled with the movement. The vibration coupled with Tenna's large hand still rubbing generous circles on Spamton's crotch caused him to gasp. Spamton grabbed at the soft fabric of Tenna's belly and shook out his own orgasm.
Tenna removed his hand finally and the two laid there for a moment, panting like they had ran a marathon. Weakly, Spamton turned over to face Tenna, laying on top of his belly. Tenna sat up himself to look at Spamton, screen fading back to white from TV static.
“Let's… maybe not talk about this again.”
“[Shore].” Spamton lied.
He stared at the TV's pretty display, sort of wishing he had a cigar to smoke.
“[BUY] THE WAY.” Spamton started, running a stray paw over Tenna's stomach.
“WHEN YOU TUCK IN YOUR [[$12.99 Men's Dress Shirts]] IT MAKES YOU LOOK FATT3R.”