A.N.: Hi everyone :) Enjoy, and thanks again for your support!
Chica was bored, very bored indeed. The chicken robot was also kind of hungry. Freddy-bear might have said she was peckish, but then Chica might have pecked him. She wasn't really sure exactly why she felt the way she did- it might have had something to do with the words on her bib, or with the kids that sat in front of the stage everyday, demolishing the cheesy, golden stuff the restaurant was famous for.
Pizza. Doughy, cheesy and delicious, the demon chick assumed. Funny, the ones she tried never felt like dough. They were kinda hard to gnaw on, and they made her skeleton tickle when bits of it fell down her suit while she was crunching on them. Kids seemed to like it though, and it was meant to be one of her favourite things. She just liked to sit in the kitchen sometimes. Even bubbly chicken girls can have enough jokes and screeches for one day.
The chicken robot poked her huge head around the corner of the kitchen door for a moment. There were sounds of the amusing flapping yellow thing coming from down the hall. The floppy man that liked to hide in there with his funny bit of metal was quite a friendly little being, but she didn't understand why he felt the need to yell at the yellow thing. It was a little bit silly, she thought, considering it kept bumping its head. But for some reason, the little man didn't like her pizzas. He just stared at them, and she didn't really like to be watched, especially not when she was a hungry chicken.
And she didn't much like the fridge door, either! Chica didn't know how the purple creatures that liked the kitchen did it without screeching and banging (although she did hear a lot of yelling sometimes, when smoke came out the doors). She had discovered that the best way to get into the cold part where the pizzas were stored was to bang a pot repeatedly into the left side of the door, until the right side gave way. She wasn't sure how it worked, but it did, and then she could get to the freezing bit at the bottom. The demon chicken robot pulled out a pizza, and slid gracefully down the fridge door to gnaw on it thoughtfully.
Freddy the bear was also sitting thoughtfully, although he was sitting in the dining room. Well, occasionally he had to get up and move to the side, considering his fox friend and his bunny buddy were busy having a good-natured tiff about the number of party hats it would take to represent a ten-foot-wide pizza. They were half-way through it at the moment, but progress had significantly slowed due to the fact that blue-striped hats were meant to be the pepperoni, not the olives, as Bonnie had put it. He then had proceeded to throw a hat at the cackling pirate, and that had earned him the mother of all party hat fights. Freddy ducked as Foxy launched a party hat over his head towards Bonnie, who screeched and ran after him whirring and clicking in delight.
Freddy loved all of his friends, as only a bear could do. It was his job to love and protect them as much as it was to love and protect the children that walked into his happy restaurant. And it was all he could ever want in his admittedly short robotic life. It was alright, thought the ol' bear as he watched glittery party hats fly across the room. But there was someone that he had to go and talk to, a certain little chickadee that hadn't pecked him at all for this past week! Either Freddy's jokes were becoming decent, or something was bothering his little chicken. He dodged a triple attack from his bunny friend and softly padded down the East Hall.
Will whirled around in his chair briefly as he watched the show unfold in delight. Left, right, up and down, party hats were flying like shiny birds all over the room. Admittedly, from what old Will could see on his little monitor, it looked like the sly old fox was gonna win this one, as a sparkly party hat wedged in Bonnie's maw, setting off a shriek. He spun around again, before cracking his neck and staring that yellow bird in the tiny pupil. You are gonna fly, you little bird!
Freddy Fazbear poked his head in the door and chuckled a gentle little chuckle at the chicken munching on a pizza on the floor. Chica stared up at the bear for a minute as he slid down beside her with all the grace of an animatronic elephant covered in pizza sauce, half a pizza dangling precariously out of her maw. Freddy whirred softly at her and wiggled his ears.
*Clickclickclickclick*…
Hi, my little chickadee… Say, that's a nice pizza you got there. Did you warm it up this time?
*Clickclick*
No, not this time Freddy… I don't like to warm them up any more.
Freddy clicked quietly.
Why not, my darling chick?
Chica's whirring was very quiet indeed.
I don't think I should, Freddy. I don't seem to be very good at it… Or anything, really. I mean, I can't even play hide-and-seek right.
Freddy knelt (with difficulty) in front of the miserable chicken, who was humming lowly, and clamped his fuzzy arms around her.
Oh, my little chicken… You are a chicken! A bubbly fun chicken girl who cooks pizza and sings and makes all her friends happy! You're just right, just like this, darling! I will help you to fly, my little girl. Don't you worry about your hide-and-seek or nothin', you're my sweetie-chicken and you play hide-and-seek just right for a sweetie-chicken.
Chica squeaked and whirred quietly. She'd never tell Freddy that 'sweetie-chicken' was her favourite.
Now you hop up here and help me fly over to stop those silly boys from wreckin' our microphones…
Will was hysterical as Bonnie danced from side to side, and dodged unsuccessfully from a barrage of party hats from the silly fox man. Suddenly it stopped as a squeal and a stomping sounded from the East Hall. The fox and the floppy boy looked at each other, the vulpine pirate flipping his eyepatch down.
And there was a great hurricane of party hats, squealing robots and one very confused little floppy being as the eleven-foot-high custom Fazbear chicken-jet bore down on them with spatulas and a long-handled set of tongs.
