November 13th, 1996
Life in Cyber City was going on as per usual, sounds of traffic drowning out what was going on elsewhere, the Addisons were going about their days as normal, selling whatever products they had to their willing customers, or any lightners that on the off chance were using the newly birthed internet, despite the Queen declaring herself as... well, the Queen, she had a bad habit of not really looking over it, rather just getting caught up in whatever antics she found herself in.
But one Addison, was not like the rest, someone who found it hard to even find a proper footing in the world of sales.
He was a young gentleman by the name of Spamton Gerald Spamton, he was mainly used for spam emails, but he had ambition for something greater, he decided to open up his own store alongside the other Addisons. He really couldn't explain it, but something about making it big was so luring to him, like a fish just waiting to take the bait on the end of a fishing hook.
Unlike the other Addisons though, Spamton had a… rather interesting way with products to say the least, he would claim that his brand new shoes would last 30 years and were "made by the best, for the best." Of course, people would usually see past his shenanigans, but at first, some people were quite interested in his products. An Ambu-Lance had just finished off his shift for the day, just dropping in for some groceries for his loving family.
"Welcome, welcome to Spamton's convience store, how can I help you?" Spamton, full of emotion had advertised to the Ambu-Lance.
"Oh, just here to pick up some food for the misses, i'm... kind of in the dog house again." The customer had unwillingly admitted to Spamton.
"What? How? With the salary of a brain surgeon, surely you'd be making ends meet." Spamton was dumbfounded by this revelation, he just couldn't comprehend that an Ambu-Lance of all people was complaing about how hard his life was, and given the current predicament Spamton was in, he wasn't too happy.
"No... it isn't money related... just family issues that I'm not too keen on elaborating on." The Ambu-Lance had replied, guilt and sadness taking over his tone.
Spamton just sat there, silently, the mood in the store was cold... so cold. He forbode himself from comtinuing the current conversation any further, just waiting for the customer to finish his transaction and continuing on with his life, something that Spamton was feeling rather nervous about.
"That'll be D$2,200." Spamton responded to the scanning of the groceries.
The Ambu-Lance attempted to scold the Addison for his absurd price, but given the current situation and the coldness that had swallowed the room, he didn't even bother.
"Thank you for your time." Spamton bid his not-so welcome customer farewell, almost in a judgemental fashion, something that definitely sent a few shivers down the doctors spine.
Another noteworthy time was when he indirectly scammed a random 17 year old that was just passing by, attempting to just fit in with the crowd and move on with life.
"Oh hey, can I interest you in some brand new, 100% authentic, Nike Air Wayups?." Spamton advertised to the suspecting customer.
"Sure, that seems rather cool actually." The nervous teen replied. "What's the price?" He continued.
"Only a small fee of D$300." Spamton answered.
"Oh okay, i'm sure I have enough." The teen accepted the deal, not knowing that Spamton had done something perculiar to the shoes.
"Okay, here you go." Spamton smirked.
"Thank you." The teen then exited the store.
Now, Spamton never saw that teenager again, well, in person, he saw him as a footnote on a news report 3 days later, about how scam rates were increasing in Cyber City, Spamton made the Wayups look so real and unique, but instead he gave the unsuspecting teen a pair of shoes that were made of coal, with a half eaten sandwich inside that was a few months past its expiration date. Needless to say, Spamton felt a bit uneasy about doing that to a kid who was only trying to fit in, but he eventually brushed it off, the kid never returned to the store, so Spamton wasn't all that worried.
Now, the way Spamton went around selling his products was hard to explain, at first he'd do something like write another 0 onto a price tag to quickly scam someone, or even rub out the expiration date on an already expired bottle of milk, from '12th March, 1995', to 'July 18th, 1998'. Those were what he mainly spent his time doing outside of those two instances.
Despite this, he knew he couldn't go too far, he didn't want any lawsuits for someone having their stomach pumped for drinking some extremely expired milk. Spamton knew he was a prankster as a kid, but he wouldn't actually do something truly malicious, would he?
Would he though? Nah, he's got a lot more class than that, at least give him a few decades or so.
Author's Note: Now, this won't be a "normal" fanfiction per se when it comes to Deltarune, I will be taking inspiration from other works (not other fanfictions) to be shaping this story. Why'd I want to do this? Well, it doesn't look like anyone else has, at least not on this site, and I figured that maybe I could do something that goes into what happened that lead to Spamton's success and then his downfall, all the way to the events of Deltarune Chapter 2 when he meets Kris.
I'm not expecting this to be perfect, god no, fuck, I thought of the basic setup of this fic while I was daydreaming a few days ago, lmao.