Chapter 0 and 3/4ths
Clothes Searching
It was 8pm at night as the animatronics wandered through the streets of Salado, taking a break from the overwhelming amount of repairs that had to be done. It had been months now since they had begun, and the repairs were ones even they could not complete. Sure, they could wash up walls, clear away debris and more, but rebuilding those same walls, putting up ceilings, rewiring the entire building, it just couldn't be done. They had jumped into a passion project leagues out of their depth and now, they were quite literally paying for it. Nevertheless, they kept their spirits high and refused to give up, and all were determined to make ends meet to restore their pizzeria. However, even with their high hopes and unshakable confidence, the repeated rejections of every job applied for was beginning to irritate them all. Day in and day out, rejection, no matter where they went. Sometimes, it made sense, but sometimes, it was utter garbage reasoning.
As they strolled through the darkened streets, Freddy decided to break their silence, tired of the quiet night and wanting to get on with some productivity. "So…we've been rejected by how many job interviews today?" He asked. "17." Bonnie replied, deadpanning his response. "We are not going to be able to rebuild our pizzeria at a rate this slow. We have absolutely no money to our name, and we can't even read; there's not a single way for us to perform the needed repairs with our lack of skill."
Chica grimaced with a nod to Bonnie's words. "Bonnie's right. We haven't gotten any jobs in weeks, and at this rate, we're barely scraping up quarters. You've heard them all; we're not qualified for anything." Endo 01 shook his head at that. "That's not true. We're easily qualified for party entertainment, and we've been hired before for parties. Don't forget, our last one earned us $300 in tips alone. We just need to find another and perform again." he pointed out.
"I guess…but who would want a bunch of broken down bots with barely any of their suit left? I mean, sure they hired us, but it was for a horror party, and it's-"Wait, Freddy, hold that thought! I've just had a brilliant idea!" Mangle exclaimed, shoving her way to the front and pivoting on her heel to face the rest, mad glee in her optics. "Alright, so, we're broken down and a massive mess, right?! And we don't have anything to make us look good or wantable, right?!"
The others nodded. "OK, and we've been rejected from jobs because we look like terrifying nightmare monsters from the depths of Hell itself, right?"
"Where are you going with this?" Springtrap asked, giving Mangle a confused look.
"Don't you see. We just need to not look scary and broken, and to look like our old selves again. And I have just the way to do it!"
"And that is…" Endo 02 questioned. "Easy, we wear clothes! We get some shirts and pants and cover the wiring, then find some bows and stuff and there we go, we'll look less terrifying, and hey, maybe if we look like the humans, they might give us more jobs!"
"That be soundin' like a great plan…but how in Scott's name are we gonna find clothes?"
"Look for some outside of clothing stores? I'm sure they've got some clothes for trash or something like that. It's early enough for the spring sales…I think. Also, garage sales." Mangle answered.
"Your plan is a crazy one with a high chance of not working out, but I'm desperate for anything at this rate." Bonnie admitted. Freddy gave a nod of agreement, he too was out of ideas and grasping at straws for anything. "I agree. Let's find some clothes, gang."
With that, they set off, searching through the town for their goldmine. And sure, they found one…sort of. It was a garbage heap of old clothes left beside a house; it was pretty clear that nobody wanted it so yoink went the bots (leaving a thank you note, of course). Another score they uncovered was indeed, a skip of clothes outside a store going out of business. Upon seeing it, the animatronics ravaged the site for anything they could scrounge up, and the things they uncovered brought that single shine of light back to their spirits. Inside were hundreds of piles of tattered rags of clothes, perfect to use and unwanted by all.
"No way! I can't believe this." came a delighted shout from Mangle, emerging from the skip with an old, worn, leather motorcycle jacket from back in the 80's, a gift from a child in a rare moment of peace. "And it still fits." she grinned, slipping it back on over her ragged arms. It did quite a nice job at concealing the damage done; even if minimal, it was something. The others soon made discoveries similar, donning rags and such in tepid fashions.
It would do for now, they hoped.
Author's Note
It's a big old improvement from before and boy did it suck before. Expect more rewrites, because this is trash still.