The moment Mike regained consciousness, he instantly regretted it, coming face-to-face with none other than the very fox that had once tried to murder him.

He trembled, seeing the metal killer in such close proximity. All he could manage was a pathetic, "You—you—you…"

"Out wit' it lad!" the fox said.

Mike flinched at the tone, nearly recoiling into his seat. What was he going to do to him? Was he going to tear him apart with that hook? Or bite his head off with those razor-like teeth? Either way Mike knew the outcome wouldn't be pleasant. He jumped when a metal hand grabbed his shoulder, desperately wanting to get away. In his mind he had always liked to imagine himself going out with some gallant retort, but now—in this moment—he couldn't even bring himself to speak. The fox, on the other hand, had plenty to say.

"Why ye be shakin'?" he asked, genuinely confused. "I ain't gonna bite ye." After a moment of no response, he got bored and wandered over to the passenger's seat, staring at it quizzically. "What's this fer?" he asked. "I ain't ev'r seen a pirate ship wit' one o' these."

Pirate ship? Mike wondered. What the hell—

His train of thought was instantly thrown off as he saw the fox puncture the fabric of the seat with his hook. His tongue acted before his mind could react. "Don't do that!" he shouted, instantly clasping his hands over his mouth in regret.

The fox stopped, turning to face him. Confusion was evident on his features. "This be tha stranges' ship I ev'r seen." He stated, glancing around.

"How—how did you get in here?" Mike asked after a moment.

"Me?" the fox asked, surprised. "Why I saw her sittin in port back at tha rest'rant, decided ta do some searchin'. Say, where're we off ta, anyway?"

Foxy's words suddenly drew Mike from his stupor, reminding him of his task. Nervously he glanced at the clock.

1:46.

He was running out of time.

With a nervous sigh, he glanced back at the fox who was busily inspecting the dynamic of the cup-holders. Now or never... "Okay… I have a serious question…"

The fox stopped looking at the object, stared back at the guard. "What be yer question, Mike?"

"I—wait… you know my name?!"

"O'course I do!" he exclaimed. "Why ye be tha guard!"

Mike stared at him warily, "And…you're not gonna…hurt me?"

"Now why would I go doin' a crazy thin' like tha' fer?" The fox said, almost offended by the remark. "Cap'n Foxy never hurts his own crew!" he declared, beating his hook off chest. This puzzled Mike.

He was a part of his crew? When did that happen; better yet, how? The guard stumbled through the questions in his mind, trying to find one that made sense. But alas, none appeared. At least he wasn't in danger of the fox… or at least he hoped he wasn't. But little could be said for his manager, for if he missed this shipment of endos, he'd have something much worse to fear than an animatronic fox.

Hesitantly glancing back to the road, Mike took a deep breath before setting the RV in gear to drive. Foxy stumbled as the vehicle rolled onto the highway once again, his attention instantly enraptured by the world outside the windshield.

He hurried to Mike, grabbing the wheel with his good hand. They swerved.

"Foxy, what are you doing?!" Mike exclaimed, fighting to regain control of the wheel.

"Ye should be lettin' me steer," he insisted. "I be tha Cap'n o' this vessel!"

"Foxy…" Mike began, but trailed off as he failed to think of an adequate response. How did you respond to that? He obviously wasn't taking 'no' for an answer. And the truth might insult him, a thing he definitely didn't want to do. But he had to say something; there was no way he was going to let an animatronic drive a huge RV, especially with him inside!

"Listen…" he began softly, "this is an RV. And I was told I had to drive it to pick up—"

"RV?" he mouthed the letters oddly. "That be an odd name fer a ship."

"Wha—it's not—never mind. Look, I have to go pick up a bunch of endos and bring them back to the restaurant before six." He explained. Foxy growled.

"Bunch-o bilge-rats they be!" he said childishly crossing his arms. "They never wan' ta get inta their outfits like they're sappost ta! Why'n tha Seven seas are we gettin' them?"

Mike shrugged, "I have no idea." He admitted. "They'll probably be put into suits when they get back."

Foxy let out a displeased 'hmph' noise and glanced around for something to take his mind off the subject. It didn't take long to find that thing, for in the blink of an eye he was wondering off to the back.

Mike felt a nervous shrill go down his spine. All he could see were two pinpricks of light that were Foxy's eyes. What was he doing back there? He wondered. The sound of boxes tumbling and being thrown around met his ears and continued for a moment before falling into silence. Mike began growing uncomfortable as the silence lingered for a few moments.

"Uh, Foxy what're you doing back there?" he asked, somewhat apprehensively.

His heart began to race when he received no response, fear entering. What the Hell is he doing? He wondered, almost panicking. Is he building a suit to stuff me in? Was all this a lie?

Suddenly, something solid came down around his head, obstructing his view and inciting a yelp that was rather unfitting for a man his age.

He began to panic but quickly realized nothing else was happening. Feeling the thing still encasing his head, he began to slowly pull it off, only to see the expectant smile of the pirate fox as he glared down at him. "What do ye think?" he asked, hook tapping the cardboard pirate hat sitting atop his own head. "Now we be real mateys, aye?"

Eyes widening, Mike quickly pulled the thing off his head and looked at it. It was a pirate hat! Just like the one on the Foxy's head!

That's what he was doing? Mike thought, staring in awe at the makeshift piece of cardboard. Making pirate hats?

It wasn't the most amazing craftsmanship he'd ever seen, but coming from an animatronic fox…

Seeing the guard with the hat off, Foxy growled, grabbing it and putting it back on. "Ye look like a real pirate wit it on, so don' take it off!"

Afraid of the fox's wrath, Mike lifted the over-sized hat up over his eyes, just so that he could see the road. "Uh-h-h, Foxy," he said, "It's kinda… big. I can't see the road with it on."

"Hmm…" Foxy said, examining the hat. After a brief pause he clapped his hand and hook together. "I c'n fix tha'!" he declared, grabbing the hat and darting back into the darkness. After a few moments he returned with a hat that was slightly smaller, placing it proudly on the guard's head.

Mike only jumped slightly as the cardboard apparel touched him. It was still too big for his head, but at least didn't go past his eyebrows.

"Aye, perfect!" the pirate cheered. "Now when we run inta other ships, they'll know who we be and they'll steer clear!"

The fox went to step closer to admire his work but failed to notice that the ceiling lowered and hit his head.

Mike had to hide his chuckles as the pirate stumbled, growling in frustration as his hat fell off. "Blasted thin'!" he yelled at the ceiling, striking it tempestuously with his good hand.

"Whoa, hey!" Mike yelled, seeing the dent his metal hand left. "We can't hurt this thing, it's not mine! I'll get fired if anything happens to it."

That last part seemed to grab Foxy's attention, he whirled back. "Oh..." He said. "I don't wan' ye walkin' tha plank."

The guard was taken aback by the guilt on the animatronic's tone. Did he really care about him? Calming a bit, he glanced back at the road. "It's... okay," he said. "Just…don't cause anymore damage, all right?"

Foxy was about to respond, but something else caught his attention; he leaned in uncomfortably close to Mike, and pointed through the wheel. "What be tha' red glow?" he asked, amazed by it.

Confused, Mike glanced down, eyes widening as he saw what the pirate was talking about.

They were running on fumes.

Author's Note: Not much to say, except the next chapter will be longer. This one was just a short, introduction of Foxy's character chapter.