The manager of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza swirled the mop briskly in his bucket before wringing it out with his hands. He really had always enjoyed the more hands-on methods of work, in opposition to his current soul-wrenching desk job. Not that he minded everything about it though, because it was definitely far less noisy or bothersome than the job he had started with down at Fredbear's. Well, that didn't really matter anymore anyways. Those days were done with. Yeah, done.

He liked to do a thorough job with whatever he did, whether it was paperwork or looking after the animatronics. He made quite certain to reach into every nook and cranny of the office, busily scrubbing the stains of the nice chequered floor. Picked that himself, he did. The stench of bleach filled his nostrils and burned down his throat, but it just heightened that sense of satisfaction you always got after a job done well. He had scoured over every inch of the building before he had picked it. He had that carousel specially designed and each of the characters replicated from his ideas with absolute precision. Nothing left to chance, nothing left unseen to.

Well, after all, it did have to be perfect. The Pizzeria, although young, was still very important to him. It was his baby. Heck, he even loved the children that walked through the doors everyday. Not as much as his palace, though. He was the king here, and the pizzeria was his empire. That desk chair was his throne. The whole beautiful thing was designed for a very special purpose, the same purpose that propelled him through every day of his blindingly mild life.

He stared lovingly down at the old purple rabbit, gently smoothing down the soft fur on his ear. He rubbed at a small spot on the synthetic fur. God, they had been left there in storage so long that he could barely recall their original splendour. But soon, he mouthed to the rabbit softly as he wiped down the workbench with strong, sharp-smelling disinfectant. He finished off, and looked around at his work. Nice and clean. He gently nudged Freddy's foot out of the way and set off to see his favourite, fully functional band.

Now, the others were quite obviously sentimental favourites of his, but these were his children. The pinnacle of AI and mechanically superior to any other model on the market. They had cost the earth, but he had decided he had to have them as soon as he had glanced at their half-lidded, playful eyes. They had been perfect, the perfect pinnacle to his perfect empire. He grinned at Toy Freddy, and laughed as the imposing figure of Freddy waved back, his fluid movements delighting the manager. Fluid like a child, he thought in his haze of joy.

He stopped briefly outside the Mangle's Cove and smiled down at the pile of abused, sharp parts. As he recalled, he had been the one to strip it of the original name. The Mangle fit it better, he thought. The foxes' behaviour had always been less than savoury. A suitable fate, he had decided. He grinned viciously for a moment, giving the metallic beast a swift and gratifying kick to the ribcage.

He loved the kind of raw emotion he could always illicit from the thing. It sparked a deep sense of pleasure in the depths of his chest. He neared the end of his round and stopped outside the small safe room. It smelled deeply of must and iron, a strange and heavily intoxicating combination that pulled him into the room, enveloping him in velvet darkness. He grinned and took his time, gently running his fingers over the old cardboard boxes and dusty shelves, making his way toward the lamp in the far corner.

He switched it on gently and grinned down at what was presented in perfection in front of him. He picked up a knife from his meticulously arranged tool kit and waved it slowly, watching in delight as the set of huge, dark eyes followed the clean, sharp glint of the metal. He had bigger, more audaciously fascinating things to do, but this was a job to be done thoroughly. He settled down on the heels of his feet and rocked back and forth, as hysterical pleasure gripped him amidst the raw screams of the small child restrained in front of him. His empire was undoubtedly perfection.