What is this? More nonsense? How could this be?! (Haha, yeah I was also in the middle of doing homework when I wrote this, too. (._.) ) I don't even know what this is, but it's FNaF, so here you go! Wait a sec... *checks story stats*

(O.o)

Pikachus, over a hundred views in one day? Gosh, that's...probably the most I've ever gotten in a day. xD Thanks, guys!

Now, onto the randomness.

"Freddy! Freddy!"

Freddy heaved a sigh before placing his unrealistically large newspaper on a dining table. "What is it now, Chica?"

"Homework!" Chica squeaked, looking very upset. She shoved papers and a pencil in Freddy's face. Except there were no numbers on the papers.

"Chica," said Freddy, not even bothering to move the papers, "what is this?"

"Leonardo," she whispered ominously.

"An artist?"

Chica nodded earnestly before bursting into more oil tears. "I have to write an essay about him and I don't know where to start!"

Freddy groaned. "Why can't you just get back your cupcake instead of coming to me every time you need homework? Better yet, go ask Foxy."

Chica gasped and narrowed her eyes. "No."

"What?"

"We shall not mention the name of 'He-who's-name-shall-not-be-mentioned'."

Freddy began to say, deadpanned, "You mean Fox—?"

"SHZHSHZHZH!" Chica incoherently shushed Freddy, slapping a robot-feather-arm-wing-thing over his mouth. "'He-who's-name-shall-not-be-mentioned'."

Freddy pushed her arm away. "Does this have anything to do with-?"

"The Bite of '82?" Chica finished.

Freddy frowned. "The what?"

"The Bite of '82," Chica said matter-of-factly. "That's when he…" She gulped, tears beginning to brim her plastic(?) eyes. "…you know."

"Oh."

There was a pause. Then Freddy continued,

"Chica, you do realize that Foxy wasn't there during 1982."

Chica was confuzzeled. "What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Back then, it was Mangle or whatever she calls herself instead of Foxy. You see, fifteen minutes ago, I stole Jeremy Fitz-smith-gild-whatever's coupon-paycheck-thing and saw that the date was 11-12-87, whereas Mike's only had 'xx' because one: I was too lazy to actually find it, and two: our manager is probably too cheap to check the year."

Chica was dumbfounded. "Really?" she asked in an astonished tone. "But they look more 'kid-friendly', so why aren't they a sequel?"

"Argh!" randomly broke in none other than Foxy, deciding to hop out of his Cove. "They better not be a sequel, otherwise I'd hafta' keelhaul that Mangle-lass."

At the mention of Mangle, Chica's eyes widened. "Mangle 's a girl?"

"She is?" Foxy said, equally confused for some reason.

"That's not even Mangle's real name," Freddy pointed out. "It's just a nickname that the jerk-staff decided to call—"

"I STILL NEED HELP WITH MY HOMEWORK!" randomly screeched Chica in distress.

"When 's it due?" Foxy randomly asked.

"Tomorrow!" Chica replied with urgency. Then the clock struck 12:00 a.m. "…Today!"

"Aye, be Mr. Bear still holdin' yer cupcake hostage?" asked Foxy. Chica sniffed and pouted, looking down at the floor.

"Yes…"

"AAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

The trio was startled.

"What was that?!" Foxy demanded.

"Probably Mike screaming like a little girl because Bonnie got to him," Freddy answered in nonchalance.

"Mike 's a girl?" Chica said, dumbfounded. "Toy me told me me was me a me."

There was a long pause.

Then,

"What?" Freddy and Foxy deadpanned.

"Oh, wait!" Chica said in realization, completely ignoring (or not noticing at all) her fellow animatronics' confusion. "Fox—You, I'm not supposed to talk to you."

"Why not?" Foxy asked, a little hurt. But just a little.

"Because…you know."

"Oh."

"Yeah! …Meanie."

Foxy threw his arms up in exasperation. "T'was an accident, lass! How many times I hafta' tell ya?"

Chica blinked with a blank stare of wonder. "Huh, I dunno. Maybe a hundred? Oh, nono, maybe a thousand!" Chica waved her arm-wing-robo-things in the air for emphasis.

Foxy facepalmed. "Aye…"

The trio just stood there for a moment. Nothing made a sound. Except, ya know, Mike's screams and cries for help in the background as Bonnie tried to stuff him in the nearest suit (which, in truth, was basically giant pizza with pants).

Then Freddy spoke. "Chica, do you still want help with your homework?"

Chica grinned like an idiot. "Nah, I got this."

Puzzled, Freddy raised an eyebrow. He did not expect that. "You do? Really? Because, like last time, we discussed almost nothing about it that would help you."

Chica nodded happily. "I know, but I got this. Gimme my paper, Freddy!" She reached out eagerly, clutching and unclutching her robo-feather-fingers. Freddy sighed before handing her the paper, wondering what the odd chicken was going to do in order to solve her dilemma. To both Freddy and Foxy's surprise, the second she got the paper Chica stuffed the entire thing into her mouth and began to chomp.

"Chica, lass!" Foxy exclaimed in surprise. "What you be doin' to that poor paper?!"

"Eating it," Chica replied all too cheerfully, still munching on her homework as if it were pizza. "Now I have an excuse for my homework not being done!"

And with that, she randomly skipped away.

Freddy and Foxy merely stood there, watching her go. Foxy wore a strange expression. "Aye, she be a strange duck…"

He then proceeded to nibble on a random paper he found. Freddy resisted the urge to facepalm at this.

"…I'm going to read my paper," Freddy finally decided aloud, before turning away. However, he soon saw that his oversized newspaper was nowhere to be found. "What?!" He turned back to Foxy. "Foxy, have you seen my-?" Freddy lowered his eyelids halfway upon realizing what paper Foxy was chewing. "Oh."

Foxy paused from chewing and looked at him with a quizzical expression. "…Did ye need that? 'Cause I can just—"

Freddy put a paw up to stop Foxy. "No. Foxy…Foxy, no."

"Ya sure? I really can just—"

"No, Foxy. Just, no."

I don't even know. I really just... I'm not even sure. Pretty sure this made even less sense than the last one, though. I hope it still amused you, and have a nice day!