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It was a morning like any other, save for the fact that Mr. Tenna had gotten barely any rest.
Tenna wasn’t a careless host. Every day, he tried his absolute hardest, putting every ounce of effort into maintaining the quality of his programs. And every day, he got a sufficient amount of rest. No need to offset anything. Hence, Tenna did not usually drink eight cups of coffee in the morning. What’s the worst that could happen?
A couple hours into the day, he and Spamton stood in the Green Room, idly chatting about various non-important subjects. It took a while for Tenna to notice, but Spamton was becoming increasingly fidgety and visibly frustrated.
“Spamton? Are you okay?” Tenna asked after a particularly long silence.
His partner wiped at his own face a bit.
“I gotta go.” Spamton muttered.
Confused, but not too worried, Tenna watched as Spamton walked briskly down the hallway. After the first few times, it was something Tenna became somewhat used to. He shrugged and went about his day.
His day, which had previously been going quite swell if you were to ask him, swiftly changed for the worse.
“You’re on in five!”
Tenna did not pay attention to his assistant’s words. He couldn’t. Not with the growing ache in his pelvis he’d thought would’ve surely ended by now. What could he say? He was a busy man! There wasn’t any time planned in his schedule for piss breaks!
He brushed the employee aside. “I’ll be right there...” Tenna mumbled as he dazedly headed toward the bathroom. He could barely process it. The only thing he had on his mind was the repeated mantra of ‘Don’t piss yourself, don’t piss yourself...’ It felt like he was walking down that hall for hours.
Frantically, trying not to let the relief of getting to his destination impede his ability to hold it in, Tenna reached for the door handle.
Locked.
Tenna almost fell to his knees.
“No... no, no no...!” he gasped, repeatedly jiggling the door handle with both hands, then with one as he pounded on the door with the other.
He squeezed his thighs together desperately. He felt like he was going to be sick.
“No... please...” Tenna whimpered. “Whoever’s in there, please!”
Whoever was in there definitely did not make an effort to even listen to Tenna’s words. A distant shuffling and a few sniffs resounded from behind the door, so Tenna knew there wasn’t some sort of horrible lock malfunction or something of the like.
“Please open the door!” Tenna cried.
He was shaking. Now he really was on his knees, and he felt like the most pathetic man in TV World for it. Tenna’s humiliation only got worse as a particularly powerful urge hit, forcing him to stuff a hand between his legs to stop it. It just barely did the trick. As much as he tried, he couldn’t stop a few dribbles from escaping.
Tenna was sobbing at this point, his desperate cries and whimpers echoing loudly through the studio.
“Please...! I can’t hold it much longer, I can’t,” His breaths were coming in short, terrified pants. “I can’t... I don’t want t’ wet myself, please open up!”
He tried banging on the door a few more times.
“Please...”
He gave another weak pound against the door.
”Please...”
With that, Tenna gave up.
Relief immediately followed, his own urine pouring out of him in hot rivulets, completely saturating the crotch of his pants. He was kneeling on the floor, slumped over, not even bothering to move or hide himself. A shaky gasp, and to his own terror, a few pleased whimpers left him as he succumbed to his fate.
It was only then that the bathroom door opened. Tenna couldn’t bear to see the person who was inside, not after the absolute scene that he had caused. Then, he heard a familiar sniffing sound, and finally willed himself to look up.
“Spamton...?” whispered Tenna.
The aforementioned Spamton stood in the doorway, rubbing the underside of his nose. His teeth worked at the skin of his cheeks and mouth, and he was glistening with sweat. “Sorry. Didn’t notice ya.”