All sorts of playable characters, bad guys, and NPCs strolled into Tapper's after hours in the arcade known as Litwak's Family Fun Center, and they all confided their vices and struggles with their inner demons to the titular barkeep. Listening to and comforting his customers was the code of honor programmed deep into Tapper's soul.
Tapper was good at his job.
Tapper never told anybody about Zangief's love of Russian Ballet.
Tapper never repeated the details of Clyde's recurring nightmares of being eaten by Pac-Man.
Tapper just smiled and nodded as Dr. Eggman – after his tenth glass of Root Beer – mumbled conspiracy theory after conspiracy theory...often theories involving Pokemon hidden under trucks.
Tapper even gave the Space Marines of Hero's Duty root beer at a fifty-percent discount on Sundays after a long week of battling the Cy-Bug menace.
Tapper was regarded as the best barkeep in gaming history, and was widely adored throughout the arcade. Everybody knew that one couldn't go wrong with the company of the most renowned barkeep. However, there were some problems…some people that even Tapper couldn't help.
There was one patron - a newcomer - that always came in at dawn at just an hour before the arcade opened. The patron came in just as everybody else was returning to their games. The patron would demand the largest mugs filled with the frothiest root beer.
"Keep them coming and don't look at me." The patron would say as he sat down.
And of course, Tapper kept the root beer coming for the patron and avoided eye contact.
Of course, not looking at the patron was one thing that Tapper just couldn't do. Tapper couldn't avoid watching at the patron out of the corner of his eye.
Tapper would just watch as the patron's form shifted from the 3D model of an unholy golden-colored abomination that resembled a rabbit to the form of a purple-colored 8-bit sprite of man in a security guard outfit.
"L-l-let me tell you something, T-T-T-T-Tapper: never, under any circumstances, work with children. Don't. Just don't. Those kinds of jobs are hell. Absolute hell. T-t-t-they say I'm the mmmm-monster, but it's those darn kids. The k-k-k-kids are the monsters, I tell you. I-I-I'm a g-g-g-good person. I really am. If I was given a chance, I could make things right." The Purple Guy would stammer in his distorted voice as he drank glass after glass.
Everybody in the arcade knew that The Purple Guy's game during open hours required something to numb the pain, and The Purple Guy was quite skilled at getting good and caffeinated to prepare for gameplay.
Out of all the characters in the arcade, Tapper actually felt the most sympathy for The Purple Guy a.k.a. Springtrap.
It was one thing to be designed to be a Bad Guy like Wreck-It Ralph or 80's Donkey Kong.
It was another matter to be mindless cannon fodder like the zombies from The House of The Dead.
Tapper didn't dare to imagine what it was like to be designed to be an utter, irredeemable monster.
Tapper didn't entertain the thought of what it was like to be made as an irredeemable killer with no hope of salvation
Tapper didn't want to know what it was like to be trapped living in a game with souls that were programmed to blame one unfortunate person for their fabricated deaths.
It must have been a nightmare to be trapped in a game like the arcade port of Five Nights At Freddy's.
Nevertheless, the arcade would open and The Purple Guy would stumble out of Tapper's in a root beer-induced stupor. Tapper would just watch The Purple Guy go and shake his head as he lamented the worsening state of affairs in video games for characters. Tapper often wondered if life would be different if the developers and players knew what characters went through...
Alas, he always pushed those thoughts aside.
All that characters like The Purple Guy a.k.a. Springtrap could do was soldier on and accept their lot in life. As the saying went in Litwak's, it was best to live life one game at a time.
For better or worse.