Vanessa farted her way through the empty Pizzaplex for she was quite clearly annoyed and not in a good mood for any shenanigans due to the fact that she was making a massive methane mess in her pants.
"Ooh I hate the food here; it tastes good and yet it causes me to explode like this!" Venessa cursed, then she found a vhs tape. "Huh... what is this?"
Putting in the tape Vanessa could see what was clearly something quite familiar to her and yet she found it oddly bizarre like a distortion; perhaps it was her flatulence getting to her since she couldn't exactly focus with it being so hot.
It was the end of a blistering hot Summer, and Mike Schmidt's first day back from a much-needed vacation. He took a sip of the Big Gulp cup in one hand as the other fumbled with the keys to the pizzeria. Back to that night-by-night drawl that was keeping an eye on those weird, semi-robotic, bionic... whatever they were. All the teenagers kept calling them "anthros" or "furries," but those names just didn't seem right because it just felt too awkward to say it out loud.
Mike finally found the right key and slipped it into the lock. The bolt slid over and the guard pushed the door open, stepping out of the dusk air and into the pizzeria. Everything activated almost automatically - contrary to what one would think, the place was quite nice and automatic while it was still connected to the power grid.
Mike got goosebumps at the thought of what happened at night. On generator power. How long would those double-As last tonight? "Come on... not again, I don't like having to turn everything off..."
He locked the door and clicked the lights back off, taking out his flashlight. Not long enough, he thought, recalling the last time he'd forgotten to turn off the automatic lights. The building had short-circuited, and then that damn bunny...
He shivered. They'd be especially active tonight. Vacations always put tension in whatever gears they had...or whatever they had.
After arranging his things in the security office, making sure his monitors were set up and filling his Big Gulp with coffee from the uncomfortably rusty machine in Parts and Service, Mike settled into his swivel chair for another long night.
Twelve'o'clock. The power cut, as normal. It used to scare the guard, but not anymore. Eventually he got used to this quite common situation and it was to the point where it seemed like the pitch black darkness was just an old friend.
Mike switched on his tablet and switched from Flappy Bird to the building's cameras. Everything seemed in place. He knew that trick, though... they didn't move for the first hour, baited him out so that he overused the power. He wouldn't fall for it: lord knows how many times he almost got himself killed from them nearly getting an edge on him. "Would it have really killed them to add more and better working fans to this place...?"
An hour passed. Then another. By three'o'clock, Mike was actually starting to get paranoid. He checked the cameras. Everyone was still in place, but not powered up. What was going on?
He grabbed his flashlight and stepped outside the office, shining the beam down the hall. He had always hated how dark the building got - even the new flashlight he had bought with his rather small paycheck couldn't cut through the shadows in these halls.
His shoes clicked off the tiles and echoed down the hall as he walked. Nothing else was happening in the pizzeria, at least that he could hear - and he'd gotten quite good at hearing these...creatures by now. So where were they?
He stepped into the stage room and shined his light at the stage. His heart almost stopped. "...Oh no..."
They were gone.
He fumbled for his tablet, almost dropping it, and checked the stage camera. No, they were still there! Definitely! The camera showed it! He looked up from the tablet and screamed in terror. The six-foot, anthropomorphic, golden bear floating in front of him screamed as well.
A very quiet prrrrbt silenced them both. The bear blinked a few times - despite not appearing to have eyes - and glanced behind themself. Mike collected himself, reattached his tablet to his belt and shone his flashlight at the bear. "Goldy, dammit, what have I told you about scaring me like that? And since when can you... was that you?"
Goldy giggled almost girlishly. To be fair, the bear's gender wasn't quite clear - as a ghost or something, Mike had grown used to it being inexplicably genderfluid. It would wear a clearly male outfit but claim to be female, or vice versa. It could get... confusing at times, especially considering the other antics that the bear got up to. "Oah hoa ho... that wasn't me." they said, pulling their knees up and grinning devilishly as they floated backwards a bit. "That was them."
"...What? Goldy, what did you do with the others? Where are they?" Goldy giggled again and flipped over backwards, before diving into the floor with a woosh. Mike grumbled. The bear was always cryptic like that, especially when they had done something... prankful. "This is too much stress."
Prrrbbbt! Mike tensed. He hadn't expected the noise again. With a turn on his heel, he shone his light in the direction of the sound, and was almost blinded by the glittering stars that reflected it back at him. He really had to stop looking at Pirate's Cove. But that was where the noise was coming from.
Moving slowly, Mike approached the long, purple curtains. While the "Out Of Order" sign in front of them had been removed a while ago, the curtains still usually stayed closed. However, at night - especially by four in the morning - Foxy would usually be peeking out of them. Mike pushed the curtains aside and shone his light into the cove. "Foxy?" he asked, stepping up onto the stage to get a better look inside the area. "Foxy, are you ther-"
For a fourth time, Mike's muscles seized in terror at what he saw. The stage's spotlights were on - something they couldn't possibly be after-hours. That, and Foxy was active. Dear god, Foxy was active.
Mike almost fell backwards off the stage as he peered into the cove and those two golden eyes glared back at him. He had never felt like he shouldn't be somewhere more than right here, right now. Why? Because Foxy, the scarlet-red anthropomorphic pirate fox with glittering teeth like daggers and a shining silver hook replacing his right hand, was… He was… ...redecorating Pirate's Cove.
"And what ye be doin' here, Mike?" the fox snarled, turning himself fully around to look at the comparably rather small man. Mike shrank away from the fox, minding both his extremely sharp hook and those two metal legs - relics from when he was out-of-order, now revamped to be part of his look. While Foxy had previously been only 5'11, those spring-loaded legs gave him another four inches - and, while meant to let him do cooler tricks for kids, only caused Mike more strife as the scarlet devil sprinted down the hall.
"Oh, nothing," Mike said quietly. "Just...visiting…" Foxy moved with surprising speed - well, surprising when you didn't deal with it on a nightly basis. It was only a moment before Mike was off the ground, held by the throat of his uniform shirt by the pirate fox's impressively strong prosthetic arm; specifically, the long, curved and serrated hook at the end of it. Mike would never understand how the building's owners thought that was a child-friendly attachment.
"Ye know I don't like visitors, Mike," Foxy growled, baring his fangs in Mike's face. Despite being mostly robotic and not eating very often, the creature's breath smelled terrible - like clam chowder and rotting parrot. "Especially when they come in uninvited."
"Yes, Foxy, I know," Mike said, trying desperately not to struggle. That would only anger him more. Predator reflexes and all - another thing he'd never understand in a synthetic entertainment bot for children. "I was just making sure that you were alright. Everyone else...uh...was rather...inactive."
"O' course they were, t'aint a surprise." Foxy growled in annoyance. "That golden idiot be messin' with our rations, got us all gu-" prrrrbbBBBBBT!
The next thing Mike knew, he was on the ground, on his back, outside Pirate's Cove. His chest ached to high heaven - if there was such a place in this nightmare land - and he was quite out of breath from the impact of Foxy's foot in his chest. Mike had never been literally kicked out of anywhere before. It was a new experience. He wouldn't recommend it to anyone, especially not when it's a six-foot-three semi-robotic fox with spring-loaded legs doing the kicking.
Mike slowly sat up, rubbing his head - perhaps in preparation for the flashlight that conked him a few seconds later. "AND STAY OUT, YE LANDLUBBER!" the fox roared, slamming the curtains in a disgruntled tone. His hook impaled one curtain and rotated through the other, holding them together, before the distinct screwing noise of it being detached was heard.
Not only had Mike just been forcibly removed from the Cove, he was now barred from it. As he stood up and retrieved his flashlight to continue his shift, one question remained; why was a pirate fox lining his den with... vinyl and egg cartons? Mike shook his head, both from confusion and cranial pain. What a weird day this was - first Goldy had revealed another one of their pranks, and now Foxy was talking about something wrong with the rations while... was he soundproofing? "How odd, with what just happened to me." Mike said quietly to nobody in particular as he shone his flashlight into the dining hall. He half expected to see Freddy or Bonnie looking back at him, but there was nobody which made him feel somewhat relieved yet obviously led him to questioning things more.
However, there was a loud crash from the kitchen - dishware shattering, by the sound of it. That was unusual; Chica usually liked her dishware intact. Mike got worried. Chica usually liked the dishware intact. She had no reason to smash it. So who would have done it - or perhaps, given her a reason? He put a bit more pep in his step as he approached the kitchen. He had to get there before whatever was there could hurt Chica, or before she ended up hurting herself. As much as he disliked these animals, it was his job to protect them, even if he couldn't protect himself from them.
"Oh the things I do for money..." Mike thought in disbelief for he pushed open the kitchen double-doors and illuminated the room with his flashlight. For the fifth time that night, he had the fright of his life. It just kept happening, didn't it?
"...wow." Vanessa said in disbelief upon feeling her stomach grumble for she started farting up a storm of stink after watching the video. "That shit is making me crap my pants...!"
"If you think that stinks then you're not going to like what will happen next." Golden Freddy chuckled upon suddenly popping up behind Vanessa for he had something devious planned for her.