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It all happened too fast to catch the specifics, not to mention the fact that he wasn’t able to follow the family out of the living room to hear every side of what was going on.
All Tenna heard were jumbled bits and pieces of shouting voices. Of something shattering. Of somebody crying. And he wanted to feel something- anything about it, but his screen showed only static as unrecognizable words blurred together amidst the sea of rage in his once comforting home.
Was it his fault? He was boring them, wasn’t he? He was so old. He didn’t have any of the exciting new channels they wanted. He didn’t have the “internet” like the kids are into nowadays! He was just a boring CRT! he wasn’t hip with the times! That’s why his family hated each other! That had to be why!
Maybe- Maybe if he just faded away entirely for a little while, it would somehow stop his loved ones from screaming at each other. Or maybe it’d just make himself feel better, for even a moment, to forget. What a selfish darkner, he is.
“Ah- Mr. Tenna?” Elnina poked her head out from behind a curtain, snapping the television back into reality at the gentle, yet panicked sound of her voice.
Perhaps he should have picked a time he wasn’t on stage to do this?
He stared out at his “audience”. Did this even matter? The lightners only had him on as background noise. Nobody was watching.
Nobody was watching, and yet he suddenly fell back into the rehearsed routine of show business like he had an audience of thousands, like adoring fans were writing up fan mail…
NO, WAIT- HA! Who needs something as silly as fan mail?!
-like adoring fans were screaming his name and singing his jingle. Like a crowd was shouting at him, “I LOVE TV!” Because really? Who doesn’t love TV? Everybody loves TV! He’s a classic! A one-of-a-kind experience for the whole family to enjoy! And they will! Oh, they will!
Tenna hits every cue perfectly, says every line with glee, and moves more animatedly than ever before. This was the show of a lifetime, and everybody was going to stop fighting so they could waltz out into the living room laughing and smiling and ready to play some games and-
-unplug him. Toriel unplugged him.
It was a strange feeling to have everything he’d ever feared come to fruition before his very screen.
The stage lights flickered out. The music cut. The mics turned off. And the crew all just stopped and stared at one another.
Nobody knew what to do- what to say. It all happened too fast. Sure, the studio hadn’t been doing well since he left, and the crew knew in the back of their minds this would be their inevitable end, but...
Hmm... maybe it didn’t happen fast at all. Maybe everyone knew it was coming the whole time, even Tenna.
His gloved hands scrunched into tight, trembling fists, screen zipping to black as his antennas shook under the realization of what had just been done to his studio, to him. TV Time was shut down.
No, no, no. How was he supposed to entertain the lightners with their favorite shows? Play their favorite films on VHS? Bring them together over the holidays? How could he make them smile again? How could he save his family?
He was gonna fix everything! He was gonna show them how much they love each other! They were all gonna be one big happy family again! He loved them all so much, and they loved each other, and they loved him! How could they abandon a member of their family?
“M-Mr. Tenna-?”
Again, it was Elnina’s voice that brought Tenna out of his little moment of dissociation, only this time there was no overdramatic display of show business to be seen.
He looked over to the weather lady and the rest of his startled crew with a blank black screen, completely still, emotionless. It was a look that all of them unanimously agreed meant their host was about to lose it. This was the look of a dock in pay, of a meeting of screams and beration, of a firing.
And yet, he didn’t lose it. Not yet. “All of you-” He began, tone surprisingly calm, masking the underlying agony coursing through every wire in his system.
And then his voice boomed as rage overcame him and he slammed his fist into a set piece, the beautifully painted craftsmanship crushed beneath the weight of his fist. “-GET OUT!”
Nobody needed to be told twice. Pippins, Shadowguys, Shuttahs, and Zappers scattered as Elnina and Lanino hurried off, though after two very concerned glances. Even his connection to Mike had been severed.
It almost shocked Tenna, honestly. How little must his staff care about him that they’d leave him at a time like this? When everything he cared about was just ripped away from him! His studio! His fame! His family!
He’d told them all to leave, sure, but he really didn’t mean it! Couldn't they tell he didn't mean it? Couldn't they see he needed them?
Tch. Well, good riddance! Screw them! Screw all of them for leaving him here! If they had really cared about him, they wouldn't have actually left when he kicked them out! They’d all be comforting him right now! They’d be promising they wouldn’t leave him like the lightners just did!
But they didn’t! Of course they wouldn't! Nobody cared about him. Everybody left him. His audience. His family. His crew. His-
-Mailman…
Everything had been going great between them! At least that’s how it had felt. TV Time had never been better, and Spamton had more sponsorships than he’d had when he’d first risen to fame. It really seemed like the start of something great! They were gonna be big shots together forever, the best of colleagues.
For a good many months there, Tenna really felt like he had something special.
He thinks back to a particularly fond memory.
A TV and his advertiser standing side by side on the balcony of his penthouse. Two big shots enjoying something as mundane as a smoke break together, but it didn’t feel mundane at all when Tenna was spending it with his business partner.
A lovesick sort of fluttering had filled his belly, the colored bars of a flush gracing his screen. There was no doubt about what Tenna was feeling towards the other. He was in love.
And what once had felt like a strange feeling, a forbidden one, to love his work colleague, had become something that felt natural over time, even if it needed to stay a secret between only them forever.
Spamton had kissed him so many times already, yet as he kissed him then, standing atop the balcony’s railing just to get close enough to yank him into it by his tie, it felt brand new all over again. It always did with him, his love letter.
It all feels tainted now, like a messy pool of ink on fresh parchment.
Tenna doesn’t want to believe it, that he’d been played for a fool, taken advantage of by a younger man for his fame, just to be ripped off. Had Spamton cared at all?
He wonders for a moment if someone from Cyber City would have been so stupid as to fall for a trick like that. Would some shiny new flat screen have fallen for somebody like Spamton, or would they have seen through it all? Would someone with more modern sensibilities have had a heart so easy to toy with?
He doesn’t even realize, but he’s shrinking in the middle of the stage as he thinks about it, tears starting to well on his screen.
He despises it. He’s better than that little rat who ran away! He’s TV for angel's sake! No wonder Spamton scammed him! He knew he could never compare to Tenna or his show! He's a television host, and Spamton's just another advertiser! Tenna doesn’t need him. He doesn’t.
Advertisements end over and over again, but TV is forever.
At least it was…
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks of a warning he’d once been told- to not make Spamton sign that contract… but it’s drowned out by heartache and betrayal and an overwhelming, all-consuming sense of dread for the future.
Why couldn’t Spamton see that Tenna is nothing without him? That he needed him to survive? His little mailman, his business partner, his ticket to success that would never end like this, his love. He was everything. He was perfect.
Tenna’s old news! He isn’t good enough for anyone anymore! Not even himself! He’s a mess, and everybody knows it! That’s why his crew left! That’s why the lightners left! He’s basically junk! There’s no use trying to use junk! What good does he have left but to pick up dust?
Doesn’t Spamton realize that without him, he’s as good as dead?
...Maybe that’s why Spamton left?
He knew Tenna was going to die.
The CRT finally takes a moment to truly look at the dark stage surrounding him. It’s the strangest thing. There’s something so uncanny about a space that should be bright and cheerful and bustling with darkners, so empty like this. Of course, he’s seen it dark before when shows end for the night, but never when the show is actually, truly over.
By the time his body catches up to his thoughts, he’s only a few inches tall, and tears are flooding his black screen, trickling down like pouring rainfall.
And he wonders what the lightners are saying right now. Are they still yelling? He can’t tell anymore. He doesn't even know if he wants to tell.
“Well…” He stares out at his audience of zero, at the empty fun-o-meter, out into the wings where his crew should be, but aren't, and he puts on the widest showman smile he can muster through the tears. "This has been just another incredible episode of-" He turns to the nonexistent camera. "Say It With Me, Folks!"
"♫Mr. Ant Tenna’s TV Time!♫”