Night Seven: Five Months of Bills
On the seventh day of Christmas, my boss gave to me…
Mike stares at his paycheck in abject horror. $120.00? $120.00! Where is his damn overtime pay? And he earns more than four bucks an hour! What the hell?
Mike looks up at his smiling boss, then back at the paycheck, and then back at his boss.
"You have to be kidding me," he growls, left eye twitching uncontrollably.
"You take it or you leave it, Mr. Schmidt." Mike's boss is a rotund man in a light-up Christmas sweater so ugly that it deserves a yo momma joke.
"Fine," Mike says. "Fine." The boss grins maliciously and immediately kicks Mike out of his office. Oh, this man will rue this day!
The next day, the boss finds an earless Bonnie head with red fluid oozing all over his paperwork and nearly faints from the shock. It isn't until later that the janitorial crew arrives that he learns there are no brains plopped on his desk, and Mike is very glad to have found that the kitchen keeps ketchup packets for the customers.
Revenge is sweet.
...seven bucks under minimum wage, six hour shifts, five nights in hell, four phone calls, three band members, two pneumatic doors, and a phantom Fredbear screeching, IT'S ME.
