Back by popular demand, here's a new chapter. This time, it's FNAF 2 themed!
It was your average day at the new and improved, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place! Honestly, do you really think I'm telling the truth?
The children were destroying the poor little mangle, balloon boy was acting like a creepy-ass pinnochio, the puppet was scaring the living piss out of everyone, and the new Bonnie, Chica, and Freddy were wrongfully accusing innocent customers of being criminals.
"WHERE DID YOU HIDE THE JEWEL, YOU FREAK?!" Freddy yelled, slapping a man.
"YEAH! WE KNOW YOU TOOK IT!" Chica added, upper-cutting the man.
"Uh...I LOVE CAUSING PAIN!" Bonnie said, kicking the man in his stomach.
"What jewelry?! I don't know what jewelry you all are talking abou- AAAAAAAAAH!"
Fritz and Jeremy, who were on their coffee break nearby, watched the man get torn limb from limb.
"Say, Fritz...do you think it was ever a good idea to hook all those criminal-tracker thingies in the animatronics?" Jeremy asked him.
"Not really." Fritz replied, sipping down some of his coffee. "But hey, at least now we don't have to dial 9-1-1."
On a softer note, let's see what Mr. Eugene is doing, shall we?
Mr. Eugene sat at his desk, snorting dimes, pennies, and nickels, which is very unhealthy and ridiculous if you think about it.
Like I said before, this man really, really loves money.
"What? At least I'm not doing drugs! This is a TOTALLY different activity!" He said, looking at the faces of disapproval he got from the readers.
There was a knock on his door.
"For the last time Foxy, I didn't call you gay! Now please stop trying to break into my office and rape me anally."
"It's the manager for Chuck E. Cheeses."
Mr. Eugene snorted his last dime, and went to unlock his door.
"Yeah?"
"Is this YOUR worker?" The manager of Chuck E. Cheeses asked, holding a picture of Mike Schmidt flipping someone off.
"Ex-worker." Mr. Eugene told him. "Why do you ask?"
The manager hesitated slightly before giving an answer.
"Mr. Eugene...I hired Mike to take the night shift at Chuck E. Cheeses a week ago. Everything was going fine and dandy, until...until he saw the Chuckie animatronic. He literally freaked the fuck out. Take a look." The manager said, taking out a VHS tape to place in Mr. Eugene's TV.
The camera focuses on Mike Schmidt, sitting in his chair, watching the cameras.
"Ok! New job! This- this is gonna be easy! No worries, Mike! You got this! YOU GOT THIS! Just watch the cameras! THAT'S IT! JUST...WATCH...THE...CAMERAS. It's so easy. You don't even have to worry about any of those horrid little- ANIMATRONICS! AAAAAAHH!" Mike Screamed, pointing to the Chuckie animatronic that was in the kitchen.
"Not today, you ASSHOLE! NOT TODAY!" He shouted, grabbing a machete out of his pocket and running out of the office.
Chuckie took out a pizza he was making in the oven when he noticed Mike standing there with a crazed look in his eyes.
"Oh, hey Mike! I just made pizza. Want some, dude? Dude? Uh, why do you have a machete? Why are you shaking it in my direction?! Dude! STOP! I thought you said you were cool about me sleeping with your girlfriend! It was a one-time thing, man! IT WAS A ONE TIME THIIIIIIIING!"
The manager took out the tape while Mr. Eugene sat at his desk with a bored facial expression.
"And...What does this have to do with me and Freddy Fazbear's?" He asked.
"Chuckie got injured really badly!"
"So...? He's an animatronic, it's not like they have feelings."
"YOU CALLED ME GAY!" Foxy sobbed, knocking on Mr. Eugene's door.
"Go away, Foxy! AND I SAID I WAS SORRY ABOUT THAT!" Mr. Eugene yelled, locking the second lock on his door.
The manager did a small face palm to himself.
"Chuckie is suing Mike Schmidt for 100k, but since we both know that Mike obviously doesn't have that type of money, We've decided that we're suing you guys since it's technically your fault that Mike is batshit insane in the first place." He explained to Mr. Eugene.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who's to say it's OUR fault?! Maybe the guy's on drugs! You ever thought of that?"
"Mr. Eugene! The man was clearly delusional because of the killer animatronics in this establishment! You just don't want to admit that!"
"Look! Even if it WAS our fault, not saying that it is, we don't have that type of money. We just remodeled, and we barely have enough money to pay these workers who barely do anything but hide from the animatronics!"
"Why don't you just shut this place down?! Your animatronics kill people, your food tastes like cow shit, not to mention it has a F- rating from the health department, and there are so many supernatural things going on around here that makes even the scariest creepypasta story look like a damn Disney Fairytale!"
Mr. Eugene had heard enough.
"Listen, you dim-sum son of a BITCH! If I wanted to hear criticism, I would've called my mother-in-law! Now, you have two choices: either get out of my office and never come back, or stay here and get your ass stuffed into a suit! And since you're not a part of this game, you don't respawn." He said with a satisfying smirk on his face.
"Fine. I hope you die of Ebola." The manager said, leaving out of Eugene's office and slamming the door.
"Oh yeah?! Well I hope you die of-"
"SHUT UP! You're just using the same dialogue from the last chapter at the end!" Foxy said, coming out of the closet.
"Honestly Foxy, why do you keep hiding in the closet? I mean, you can hide under my desk, in the curtains, in my hot tub…but yet, you choose the closet." Eugene said.
"SO?! DO YOU HAVE ANYTHING YOU WANT TO GET OFF YOUR CHEST?!"
"Uh, yeah…I'm a furry."
"…"
UNEXPECTED!