It was a regular, boring, normal day at Black Hat inc.. But mostly boring. Flug was working on a robot, and Dementia was playing on the 3DS Flug built for her birthday, laying on 5.0.5.'s stomach as the blue bear dozed away. And Black Hat… he was being driven up the walls. It was far to calm for his liking, too quiet. He glanced at Dementia and 5.0.5., neither of them being meddlesome, unlike usual. It made him scowl, but he had no reason to be mad. He stalked over to the doctor, who gave him a nod and hardly a second glance. His ear buds were in, and he was probably listening to 21 Pilots. Thing was, he wasn't doing anything wrong, either.
A growl escaped his throat, eye twitching behind his monocle. Flug paused in his work, glancing up at his boss with a raised eyebrow.
"Jefecito?" he said, putting down his screwdriver. "Are you ok?"
"Fine," Black Hat replied, pinching the gap between his eyes. "Just restless. It's too calm today."
Flug nodded in agreement.
"It has been exceptionally slow," he mused. "Maybe we should do something, go out for a bit…."
Everyone stared at the inventor in horror. Even 5.0.5. was arisen from his slumber from this monumental event.
"What? What did I do?" The bamboozled creator looked quizzically at his teammates. It suddenly dawned on him .He rolled his eyes. "Aw, c'mon guys - even I need to go outside once in a blue moon."
"Yeah, sure ya do, ya big ol' turtle," Dementia joked, closing her gaming device and sliding off 5.0.5.'s tummy. Suddenly, her own stomach growled violently, causing the whole crew to flick their attention to her. She blushed lightly, and then wished for… for flat bread covered with the crushed life of tomatoes, topped with melted cheese… yes, she wanted pizza. "I'm hungry. I want pizza."
At the word, 5.0.5.'s eyes snapped open faster than the speed of light. He had fallen back asleep after Flug's insane and out of character statement, but the moment food was brought into the picture, 5.0.5. was active like a corgi puppy with a new toy. He lunged over to Flug, who he was sure would support his hunger and give him food.
"Hey, easy on the ribs," Dr. Flug wheezed, as the blue bear used a little too much energy to get to the scientist. 5.0.5. apologetically scrambled off him, sitting on his haunches. "Either way, I agree." He got off the floor. "Pizza sounds great."
"Sure," Black Hat shrugged. In all honesty, it seemed pretty good. "What place?"
The answer he received was not what he expected.
"FREDDY'S!" Dementia hollered. 5.0.5. nodded vigorously, pointing at himself. Even Flug looked content with the idea.
"Fine," Black Hat grumbled, tight-lipped. "I hate that place. Too happy."
Black Hat was glad he was grey, because his pale pallor would be visible if not.
Meanwhile, a staff meeting was occurring.
"I'm sorry, boys," Henry shrugged. "All five of the day shift guards, aside from you, Vincent," he addressed the man in purple (he also was purple, due to a genetic disorder) who was standing by the door with a sullen expression, "are playing hooky for one reason or another. So you four," he spoke to the others in the room," have to take their shifts."
The room suddenly filled with protests.
"Jeremy and I stayed up all night yesterday!" Fritz complained. He had fluffy orange hair and wore glasses. He was extremely skilled with tools and repairs. "And… they were really active."
"Of course they were," Mike snarked. He looked quite like Black Hat, but a smaller, less violent version. He wore his security cap often, covering scars from a surgery he'd rather forget. "It's Wednesday. Hump day!"
"Great job Mike," Scott Cawthon said blandly, and had you seen his eyes, you would have seen them roll. However, he wore a large Victorian phone mask covering his whole head. Only Mike and Vincent had seen under it recently, in circumstances all wished had never happened. "We give you back your emotions, and you respond with snarky retorts. Applause."
"I would," Vincent smoothly interjected, half lidded eyes glowing at Scott, "if you were by a telephone pole, Mr. Ring Ring~"
Scott's eye twitched.
"What?" Jeremy - pure, naive, innocent Jeremy asked, befuddled by such lewd enunciation. He was also rather odd looking (in all reality, Fritz was the only human looking one), with regular facial features besides a space for his emotions to be conveyed via two sets of semi transparent punctuation marks, each hovering about an inch over his eyes. It normally was a question mark. "I don't get it…."
"Just get through this, and then get your pay," Mike remarked. "Unless you're too chicken to deal."
"Wha'..." Jerm was more confused than before. "They're just children…."
"Heh, never worked the day shift?" Scott chuckled. "Let me tell you, it's absolutely nothing like after hours."
"Yeah," Purple Guy (a.k.a., Vincent) laughed. "After this, you'll never want pizza again, seeing what it goes through here."
"Don't forget it's Wednesday," Fritz reminded them all. "Least amount of customers, especially by lunch."
"Ugh, it doesn't matter," Henry cut in. "As long as you all are doing your jobs, you won't get fired. Except you, Vincent. I can't fire any of you without William's permission, and he's your dad, so I doubt he'd let me."
Vincent grinned lazily.
"Sir," Phone Guy, as Scott was nicknamed, spoke suddenly. "Are you planning on repairing Foxy? He's been in bad shape for a long time n-AH'OW!"
His phone rang loudly with his outburst, and he expertly spun on his heel to ensnare the wrist of the hand that pinched him. Vincent grinned innocently at him, though his arm was in a bone crushing vice. Though his eyes showed no guilt, his smile was enough to throw anyone in jail.
"Aww, c'mon Mr. Ring Ring," he teased. "I only wanted to hear y-"
"Be gay in your own time, not the company's." Henry stopped him from finishing the sentence. "I don't pay you to make out."
"You might as well," Fritz said with a nonchalant shrug. "Especially with the customers today. You might as well rename the place Fu-"
"At-tat-tat," Mike hushed him, covering Jeremy's ears. "I completely agree, but we have young listeners around."
"Spoilsport," Vincent muttered. "You're no fun."
"Your definition of fun is homicide," Scott hissed at him under his breath. "Do shut up."
A loud ring beeped from Phone Guy. None of them looked fazed, this was normal.
"Alright boys, that's the bell," Henry announced to them all, leaning out of his seat. "Time to get to your posts."
They all groaned. It was going to be a ridiculously long, long, long day.