Spam was humming a soft little jig to himself as he looked over his week planner, a gift from Click because for some reason Click insisted that a paperback planner was better than a spreadsheet.
"You can just keep it in your pocket." He told Spam casually, tapping his own coat pocket where he no doubt kept an identical planner. Spam accepted the planner to not be rude, he initially never thought he'd find good use for it, but inevitably, it came in handy.
He had seven projects on the go, from six different clients, all demanding of him basically the same thing, which made things easier than usual, typically Spam would be bouncing between different requests, chipping at each a little bit at a time.
But that week all everyone seemed to want was a funky new slogan or new logo.
There was a small cupcake shop called 'Delightful Cups' that wanted to branch off into other pastries so the owner requested a simple re-branding, nothing extreme, but something new.
Spam was debating between keeping it simple and offering up a stylized, 'Baked Delights' or something a bit cuter with 'Sweet Delights' he had been to the shop in person to talk with the owners, and they had been very sweet, as had their products.
That one was simple enough, the others were of similar fashion and Spam was sure he'd be able to finish all of them by the end of the week if he didn't go on a full work-acholic binge and finish everything by midnight.
Spam flipped the planner open to a different client, content that the bakery owners would like his suggestions, he'd let the project simmer at the back of his mind as he began to set up his computer to begin running things through. Until a soft knock at his door had him pausing.
"Come in?" Spam called through the closed door, his eyes still fixed on the screen before him and his fingers still flying over his keyboard. Spam, being as vertically challenged as he was, was the only Addison in the house who had a double door with two handles, one specifically for himself and the other at a more average height for his siblings.
Popup and Survey sometimes insisted on coming through the smaller door for laughs, but Click had always been the most mature out of them.
"Hey, I'm making grilled cheese." Click stated from the open doorway, hand on the knob, shoulder pressed against the frame, the oldest sibling looked around the room and grimaced before reaching out with his free hand to flip on the lights.
"What have I told you about working in the dark?" Click asked as Spam hissed dramatically, shielding his eyes from the assaulting light; "You'll burn out your eyes at this rate." Click quipped as he marched over to the window to pull open the curtains.
"Wouldn't kill you to let some light in either." The older sibling muttered to himself.
"Yea, yea." Spam lamented; "I'll become a reclusive shut-in at this rate, work myself to death behind a computer screen, blah, blah, blah." Spam mocked with a grin as he turned back to his computer, Click hummed in agreement as he crossed the room back towards the door.
"Have you eaten lunch yet?" Click asked once he settled against the door frame again, Spam paused, glanced at the clock, then turned in his chair and shook his head.
"You want a grilled cheese?"
"What do I owe you?"
"You do lunch dishes."
"I'd rather die."
"... You want it with that gross fake cheese or cheddar."
"I'll have delicious fake cheese, thank you very much."
Click offered a thumbs up before slipping out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen.
Spam turned back to his computer, figuring he could at least start on something before he was called away, Click made it a firm rule in the house that they couldn't eat meals in their rooms, something about becoming shut-ins or something.
Spam was just finishing compiling his current client's needs and wants when he was called down to the dining room by Click… And truth be told he was tempted to forgo eating just to stay in the work zone, but he knew if he didn't come down himself, Click would come grab him, and for some reason, that particular afternoon, Span did not feel like being carried around like a sack of potatoes over his brother's shoulder.
So off the stool he hopped and down to the kitchen he trotted, clambering into his seat, the tallest one, at the table just as Click finished cutting the sandwiches, triangles for himself, quarters for Spam.
The two brothers made idle chatter as they ate, Spam asked how Click's work was going, Click asked how Spam's projects were going, it was normal, comfortable, nice.
And then Popup burst through the front door with the widest 'I did something impulsive that I'm super happy about despite knowing it'll probably bite me in the ass later' smile on their face.
"Oh no." Click deadpanned calmly as he turned to his younger sibling.
"I know that look, what did you do?"
"I started a war!"
Spam choked on a sip of milk he had been taking, quickly grabbing a napkin to cough into as he hastily set his glass back down on the table.
"How did you manage that?" Click asked, voice tight with exasperation.
"I banned an entire company from my stores." Popup chimed nonchalantly as they began moving around the kitchen to prepare their own lunch…
"You… Banned someone?" Span asked hoarsely between another row of coughing.
"Oh no, I banned many someones." Popup corrected proudly…
Spam's stomach began to sink.
"Is this really lunchtime conversation?" Click asked calmly, taking note of his youngest brother's change of posture, Popup paused, looking between their two brothers before pursing their lips.
"No." They sighed quietly, "I suppose not."
"It's alright." Spam said quickly as he moved to slip off his chair.
"I'm full, I'll just… You can talk."
Click looked across the table at the single quarter of grilled cheese left on the plate and the half glass of milk.
"At least finish your milk Spam." The oldest brother chided.
Spam grumbled something softly about, 'why bother drinking milk if I'm never going to grow… I don't even have bones!' as he quickly began downing what was left in his glass.
Popup merely snickered as they stole the last quarter of grilled cheese on their baby brother's plate, taking a large bite and immediately regretting it.
"Aw fuck- Why do you have fake cheese on your grilled cheese?"
Spam managed to swallow his drink before he laughed that time.