Mable: Here we are with chapter two!
So, I got a kindly review asking about my book, so I decided to put a little information here about it. ^-^ I just wrapped up chapter fourteen and am halfway through fifteen, which should be the last chapter unless the post-climax lasts longer than I anticipated it would. The book is called A Fool's Endeavor and is a medieval-fantasy novel involving the trials and travels of a jester and his unlikely companions.
After a ruthless attack on the Kingdom of Acalathoy, the young princess is stolen away to be the child bride of the man who murdered her father. With the castle in shambles, the kingdom on its last legs, and any attempt to save the princess seen as an act of suicide, the self-designated challenge is laid upon the princess' personal jester, Lure, to go after her. Accompanied by an inexperienced apprentice of an alchemist and a sole-surviving knight, who has virtually no faith in the mission, the three must struggle to survive a quest that is much larger than they can handle. Confronted by all manner of overgrown and overpowered wildlife, thieves, strange pale folk with saccharine smiles, and their own shortcomings, Lure must push forward with his foolish endeavor or lose everything.
I try not to push my book too hard since you're here to read this story, but if you're curious then here you go. ^-^ Might be interesting to get these updates since I've been mentioning working on the novel since I was working on the last story. Anyway, without any further ado, let us move on!
Almost Feels Like Home
Chapter Two
Magictime Theater and Arcade was almost exactly what Mike expected: a knock-off, low-budget version of Freddy's that- thank whatever merciful force was watching over- had less business than Foxy's currently did.
Mike stepped inside and looked around the theater with growing scrutiny. The walls were painted a dark blue while the floor was a well-treaded carpet that was black with stars and confetti printed on it. The theater seemed to be comprised of one large room, with a sort of prize corner against the wall to the far right. Arcade machines were sprawled around the room and littered along the floor. Nothing nearly as impressive as what Hickory's had to offer- case in point why they were still in business after losing most of their animatronics- but still effective.
There was a large stage against the back wall that was backed by a thick, dusty, purple curtain. On the stage were four of the animatronics he had seen on the website, standing in the same position, and looking like they were waiting for something. He decided not to head back to them directly and instead continued looking around. There was another door on the back wall that possibly led to offices or a bathroom. Oddly enough, there weren't any obvious bathrooms in the building, but he wondered if that had something to do with the fact that, while there were a few tables, there didn't seem to be any kitchen.
He turned his attention to the prize counter and approached, as there was what looked to be a worker sitting behind the desk. He was a gangly, curly haired young man, dressed in a rust-colored polo and watching a mounted television. Mike could pinpoint the guy's age exactly, but he could guess that he was also in his twenties, unless he looked older or younger than he was. The security guard leaned on the desk and this caught the attention of the worker, who looked over in confusion. The two stared at each other for a moment.
"…Can I help you?" the man asked. He sat more upright in his seat and straightened his back, then sent a lingering gaze over Mike's clothing. "You're… Not with the news I guess."
"Sure I am. This security guard uniform is just for fun," Mike quipped back. He grew serious immediately afterwards. "No. I'm not with the search party either. I'm over from Foxy's Pirate Cove Pizzeria." He scrambled for a believable excuse and then concocted one that was sure to fall apart. "Glenn from Chipper's said you might be selling old arcade machines." He could only hope that nobody would call and double check.
"Never heard of the place," the man quickly denied. "And I don't know anything about selling machine… Unless, wait, hold on a second. I think Rhonda's in the back. She's the one who'd be doing that." He stood from the counter and beckoned Mike with him. His ignorance excuse almost outdid Mike's own poor excuse. At this point, Mike couldn't imagine how competitors wouldn't know about each other, but then remembered that up until today Magictime Theater was unknown to him.
"So… You're from a pizzeria! I guess that makes us competitors." There was an awkward pause between them. "…Or we would've been, if not for all this bad press."
"I wouldn't worry about it. It's not like this hasn't happened to a franchise before," Mike suggested. He didn't expect the young man to catch the comment and understand what he meant.
"You mean Freddy's? Yeah, Freddy's. Freddy's was bad," the man admitted. "You better believe we know how bad Freddy's was. You wouldn't believe how much Freddy's name has been thrown around since that kid disappeared. It's brutal- Don't get me wrong, it's terrible for the family, but we had a parents group in here." The man paused and turned towards Mike with a cringing look on his face. "A parent's group!" he whispered harshly. "Coming in demanding security video that we didn't have! Our security goes about as far as beeping me- that's it.
"…Yeah, that sounds like Freddy's all right," Mike admitted. He couldn't help but be glad that this was happening to the competitor and not their business, but he was also sympathetic. If it was true that they weren't connected to the disappearance, then it was a shame that they were under fire for it. That was if they weren't connected though. So far, the man didn't seem like the type, but then again Mike himself had trusted Fredrick for years. That was something he wouldn't ever get over.
Though there was also the inconsistency that he noticed. "How does he know about Freddy's, which everyone just happens to forget about, but doesn't know about Foxy's? Guess it's true what they say; all publicity is good publicity."
"It's really just me in here today, but it doesn't matter because there's no kids. Look for yourself; there's only maybe one family in here," the man pointed out as he gestured to a couple of children with their father at a basketball throwing game. He gave a tired shake of the head and looked towards Mike, "What about Foxy's?"
"You know all the kids that were supposed to be here?" Mike asked. Jose nodded. "Yeah, they're over at Foxy's right now."
There was a silent pause. Then the man spoke, "I know that was a joke, but you're probably right." The level of defeat was almost enough to cause Mike to break down laughing, but he kept himself composed and offered his hand.
"Mike Schmidt. I'd welcome you to hell, but I see you've already become acquainted with it here," the security guard remarked as they stopped at the door into the back, sitting beside the stage. The other man shook his hand eagerly.
"I'm Jose," the man introduced. "Let me step into the back and see if my manager got back yet. You just sit tight, alright? Watch the show." He then leaned over and pressed a button on the side of the stage. Mike hadn't been quick enough to stop him and could only stand there at the mercy of the animatronics. There was a low buzz from somewhere inside the stage as Jose then headed through the door and disappeared into what looked to be a hallway.
This left Mike alone with the animatronics. Except for the family that remained in the theater, but they didn't even look over when the noises began. The animal figures began squeak and hum as the stage beneath them creaked in response to whatever mechanism they were connected to inside. Looking at the large cords jutting out of their backs and disappearing into the stage, it was clear that these weren't the usual 'haunted' animatronics, which usually lacked a power source. Or if they were, they were at least docile enough to be hooked up without concern.
In the center of the stage was the frog animatronic that Mike recognized from the article. It raised its head, flickered its eyes around, and then raised its microphone to speak.
"Oh wow, is it showtime already?! Gee guys, I must have overslept! Is everyone ready?" the frog chirped in a bubbly voice. From beside her, a dark purple hippo raised its head and began to speak.
"I don't know, Happy. Is anyone really ready to go out on that stage and face the crowd?" the hippo asked as it slowly raised its hand in a thinking pose. "I was just saying to Orville the other day, "Orville, how do you really get ready for something before you do it?" Do you know you're ready? I don't think anyone can really be ready, because you must anticipate everything, and you can never tell when something is going to go amiss. You'd have to plan every moment of every day. Sometimes I plan days out with my friends, like Orville, but things usually don't go on schedule. I can plan a lunch at a bistro, a walk in a park, and then a game of cards, but what if it rains? What if they run out of tomato and I can't have a tomato sandwich? I mean, tomato sandwiches make the afternoon, and what's an afternoon without a nice sandwich? And I don't know that many games of cards, but what if Orville wants to play checkers? The anticipation-."
"Well I'm ready-eady!" the frog giggled while the hippo continued to ramble onwards. Now the brown bear Freddy knock-off got involved. He cocked his head, one eye looking over while the second looked stuck dead ahead.
"Did you say ready Neddy? Cause I'm not ready-Neddy for nothing just yet! I just woke up, hyuk!" the bear laughed with a noise that was either a laugh or a hiccup.
"Oh yeah, that bear's wasted," Mike muttered under his breath. He then noticed the hippo rocking as he attempted to turn towards the bear, still rambling while the others talked. "Hippo's not doing too well either… What am I even watching?"
"That's right, Orville! It's time to start the show!" Happy remarked to an animatronic that was obviously not there. Unless Orville was the name of more than just one elephant. "Is your banjo ready, Pigpatch?" The pig now had his time to speak, but what it said threw Mike into absolute befuddlement.
"Yar, he be right, Boyo! It be time to start the show!" Pigpatch remarked in a very pirate-like accent. Mike's brows raised as the pig continued to prattle on, mock strumming his guitar. "An' we gonna play til we can't no more!"
"Since when was Pigpatch a pirate?" Mike asked himself as he stared at the pig. He remembered back to the few moments of the cartoon that he could remember, but then came to an abrupt conclusion when he realized how familiar the voice was. "Don't tell me… Is that just an old Foxy recording stuck inside that pig?" As Pigpatch gave a chortle of laughter, he concluded that this was very likely. "That can't be legal."
To top it all off, as confusing as this all was and as weird as the show was, it was running fine. The animatronics moved fine, and the voices came through clearly, which meant that this was the first time Mike had seen a competitor's show actually be competent. He didn't have the faintest idea how to process that thought.
While this was still fresh on his mind, Jose stepped back out through the door and into the arcade again. Mike could tell that he had no success from his look alone.
"So, unfortunately, she's still out. Probably out trying to appease the search party or helping them… She'll probably be back soon," Jose suggested with a strained smile. "You can wait?"
Mike was still staring at the stage in semi-shock. "I can wait. So… These are your animatronics?" He looked to Jose slowly.
"Yup! The gang's all here!" Jose introduced as he beckoned to the stage. He then hesitated for a few moments. "Well, except Orville, he's not in service anymore. There four are the bread and butter really! Mr. Hippo and Nedd are sort of the leaders of the group. Maybe Mr. Hippo more, because Nedd's usually nodding off. Happy Frog is sort of the token girl, but she's bubbly. She's a fan favorite. Then there's Pigpatch. He can be gruff, but he's got a good heart on him. Anyone stand out to you so far? I mean, I haven't seen either of yours over at Foxy's, but I'm guessing they're not too different."
"I'm going to just pretend that it's not weird that someone would know nothing about a business and still know how many bots they have," Mike thought. He vaguely recognized that the animatronics were winding up into a song, having finally gotten Mr. Hippo to quiet down. "I kind of like the one going through an existential crisis," Mike remarked. From Jose's almost excitable smile, it seemed that he knew whom he was referring to. It was now that Mike focused in on Pigpatch's singing voice, recognizing that it was still definitely Foxy's. "You know, Porkpocket kind of sounds like Foxy."
He only realized after he said it that his tone sounded suspicious. He looked out of the corner of his eye at Jose, who was now staring at him. "…But it's not like these guys came out of a Freddy's, so it's not the case." The silence continued, and Jose started to look a little uneasy. Mike slowly raised a brow, "…Unless this is just some sort of refurbished Freddy's."
"I've only been working here for a couple of months. I don't even program the animatronics; that's Dave's job. I just press the button," Jose suddenly defended. "You'd have to ask my boss, but Pigpatch- Porkpocket?... Pigpatch and Foxy wouldn't-." The man looked towards Pigpatch, who was currently muttering a sea shanty version of the chorus while Nedd swayed and Happy giggled. It was a dead giveaway that something was amiss. Jose looked back to Mike with the slightest bit of dread, "The animatronics are just a little…"
"Hey, between Pirate Pig and the Gateway to the Cosmos over there, I can see you've got your hands full," Mike sympathized, pointing in a thumb in the stage's direction. "I mean, what exactly are they singing up there? This isn't exactly a song." As soon as Pigpatch finished his solo, it moved back to Mr. Hippo, who instead of singing proceeded to ramble aimlessly. "I stand corrected. That was a song. This isn't."
"You wouldn't believe the threats of lawsuits," Jose suddenly squeaked out. Mike raised a brow in confusion, but then suddenly understood. Jose was alluding to the fact that he thought Mike was about to threaten legal action, but at this point Mike knew that he didn't have to. Not that he had any intention of doing so anyway. That was just more publicity that neither wanted to deal with.
"Hey, no, it's not a problem. If anything, it's way funnier than it needs to be," Mike abruptly defended. Just hearing the mention of lawsuits and remembering what Marionette said about them made him defensive. "Look, as long as he never says he is Foxy and stays a pig, then I think we can live with it. Especially with all this bad press hanging over us. That's the last thing I care about." That was the truth too. Though it did slightly bother him, it wasn't enough to make a fuss about. Especially when he was here to scout out information about the children. "But there's others?"
"Yeah, there was Orville before he was shelved. There's a few 'sort of' animatronics too," Jose answered. He was now a bit more careful with his words. "Over that way beside the counter is the Candy Robot. You stick a coin in it, it talks, it gives you candy, that's the most of it. I guess you'd count that as an animatronic. He's got a couple of different stories. The Magic Puppet Box too, but nobody ever got it working right, so it's more of a statue than a real animatronic. There was this clown that used to hold lemonade, but it started growing this black mold in a ring around the middle-."
"Wait a minute. Step back a second," Mike interrupted. He blinked as he processed the words again and hoped that he had misheard, because it was bad enough that Pigpatch was belting out Foxy's voice. "…What exactly is a Magic Puppet Box?" he asked with slow growing dread.
"Yeah, I can see why you'd catch that name. It kind of sounds… You know… Sounds a little suspect for a family arcade," Jose pointed out with a goofy smile. He then directed past Mike, who turned around to see said box against the wall, hidden between an arcade machine and a jukebox. "We used to keep it up front, but then we started having trouble propping it up. So, it's been banished back here until someone gets it working," Jose explained as he approached the large, purple, striped box waiting there. "The technician doesn't like touching the thing and we have nobody else who can repair it.
Mike had a bad feeling that he knew what was in the box, but he was too curious to look away. It was almost like watching a slow train wreck. That is, if the train wreck was a slowly sinking in realization revealing something that he would be forced to address, least having something he considered his own be tampered with. Jose opened the box and started to lift out the animatronic inside. It only became worse once he could see said statue.
The body looked almost plastic-like, or a similar slickened material. It was black with white stripes around the chest and arms, though he couldn't see the legs. It had a round head with a tail on the back that looked like the point on a jester's hat, even tipped with a golden bauble that resembled a bell. Its face was a white mask broken into plates, almost like the Afton animatronics. Blue stripes led down from its eyes to its mouth where a red bottom lip was painted underneath a wide smile.
In short, it was a puppet, and it was a stark mimic of Marionette.
"…Alright. Now we've got a problem."
Mike didn't know whether or not to be relieved when the flustered woman barged into her own office. Naturally, the manager was quick to return once Jose called her about the situation and introduced herself quickly as the manager of the arcade. She looked to be a woman in her forties with short strawberry blond hair; looked to be like a normal, middle-aged woman, and wasn't the slightest bit suspicious. She then sat down at the other side of the desk, looking like a flustered mess, and decided to be blunt.
"I don't know if Jose told you, but we are in a bit of a crisis, so if we could handle this outside of court then I would greatly appreciate it. We really can't afford it, and I don't think you or your bosses are going to want to take this to the law. Not when we can try to work something out," the woman suggested. Her voice was dripping in desperation. "We don't need any more lawsuits."
"No, I totally agree. I don't want this going anywhere near a courtroom," Mike insisted as he raised his hands in defense. "I'm one of the co-owners of Foxy's, and we have a hard-enough time keeping off Freddy's reputation without any frivolous lawsuits. Especially with children disappearing." The woman looked relieved by the comment. "You've had problems with lawsuits?"
"Last month a child climbed up on the stage and pawed on one of our animatronics until it fell over on them. Suddenly we're stuck with numerous medical bills, we've got protestors unless we take the robot off the stage, and our reputation takes a hit. We lost almost all our customers for two weeks. Nothing like this, but hard to recover from." She shook her head wearily. "The child was fine. Just a couple of broken bones. Bones will heal. What really took a hit was the business. So, now that these children our disappearing, we've got the protestors back for round two."
"Uh huh…" In almost an instant, Mike had any sympathy that he had run out. He wasn't even sure what part of what she said did it either. He reached towards his pocket to retrieve his wallet. "Anyway, I can show you the pictures, but it's pretty much an exact copy. I'm guessing you got it from Afton's Robotics?"
"It was at an auction, but I had no idea it was the same character," the manager defended. Mike couldn't tell if she really was ignorant to the situation or was feigning it. He had trouble believing that they knew about Foxy's- or didn't know about Foxy's- but weren't aware that one of their characters was literally a copy of one of Foxy's stars. "We can take it down. It doesn't work anyway. Dismantling it wouldn't be a problem if it means that it gets rid of this problem," the woman offered. She was weary and desperate, he could tell that much. "It's been a rough couple of weeks. We've had the press in here every five minutes, interviewing my staff-."
"I was over here looking to purchase something anyway. Glenn over from Chipper's said you might be selling arcade machines, but I think we could take this off your hands," Mike smoothly suggested. "I'd have to talk with the other owners first, but I think we could go out a couple hundred, unless you want to haggle." He knew she would take the bait. She was too flustered, and he wanted to get ahold of this 'Magic Puppet Box' before someone else did.
If Mike was honest with himself, there was an obvious double standard. Pigpatch was clearly a Foxy doppelganger, but he decided to let it go. Yet the mere thought of someone else having Marionette's image on a statue or animatronic, or whatever it was, made him immediately become defense. Protective almost, even though Marionette was his own person and not just a brand. He wondered vaguely if Henry had ever felt like this, but then decided that he couldn't. While alive, Henry couldn't have known how alive the animatronics were. If any even had been alive then.
Only now did Mike realize that the woman was still talking. "-then it didn't work right. They sold it to us saying that it was a 'Security' animatronic and that it was programmed to watch children, but we've never gotten it to work."
"And God don't we wish we did!" Jose blurted in. He promptly cut off as his manager sent him an exasperated glare. "I'll be going back out to watch the door."
"Please," the woman said. Once he was gone, she sent a tired look to Mike. "I lost two employees already. My best employees. Now all I have Dave and Jose. Dave's never working and Jose… Please tell me you're firing someone decent in the next twenty-four hours. Preferably someone who lives within a couple of miles."
"I'm afraid not. We're having trouble keeping in staff as it is," Mike denied sympathetically.
"We're very aware of how well Foxy's is doing," the manager revealed. She almost sounded a bit sour about it, but he could see why. "Better than we're going to be doing for a long time. If we even survive this. Who could've expected that someone would snatch a child in broad daylight? We couldn't. We don't even have a working camera system. You better believe that we're paying for it now."
"So, you knew about Foxy's Pizzeria and how it's been doing…" Mike started, "…but you didn't know about the Puppet?"
The woman stared at him and he quirked a brow. She got a fleeting look of alarm and he suppressed a smirk. She got a look of defeat and he knew he had her hooked. "…I think we can work with two hundred," the woman caved quickly.
"I'll run it by the others and bring the van to pick it up… I don't know, maybe next week? Maybe whenever this all dies down so that we don't get unneeded attention," Mike suggested. The manager agreed without a hitch. It all seemed well and good, and it would've been wise to leave it there. Of course, that was when Mike remembered, halfway through standing, that he was there for a reason. "But about this whole child kidnapping thing, you haven't had anyone casing the arcade?"
"Casing the arcade?" the woman asked in confusion. Her own naïve tendencies started to shine through. He was becoming less surprised, between her and Jose, that they hadn't been anticipating trouble.
"Anyone strange lurking around, or people without kids who come in and do busywork? Let's say, some forty-something-year-old, overweight man with a skin condition comes in, buys a bag of chips, and then sits at one of the tables watching the kids for a half an hour before abruptly leaving?" Mike should've expected the positively floored look that he got from the woman. As though she thought he was insane, to which perhaps a normal person would. Then again, a normal person would've understood what he was trying to say. "Anyone strange?"
"Not that I saw, and I'm sure my workers would've come to me if they had any concerns," the woman insisted. She then rubbed her face in exasperation. "It just doesn't make sense! These sorts of things don't happen in small towns like this. This was supposed to be a turn key business and now this happens…"
"Yeah, let's not feel bad about the kid. Let's just be upset about our businesses suffering," Mike inwardly vented. He naturally didn't say any of that out loud, but he certainly thought it, and his patience was wearing thin. Seeing that he was going nowhere, he decided to cut the conversation short. "Well, we'll keep in touch. Hope it all goes well…?" Just saying it made him feel like a sham.
"Rhonda, and thank you," the manager introduced and seamlessly ended the conversation. She then seemed to fall into the silence of lamenting as he stepped out into the hallway.
Now alone, Mike looked down through the hallway with an impatient exhale. If he hadn't already given himself away, he could've easily wrangled his way into a nightguard position. Then he would've been fully able to explore the theater without anyone questioning it. Alas, he had decided to be honest this time, which kept him out of reach of proper answers. The only positive was that this did manage to keep Mike out of the limelight. From what they had said, people were now looking into the business, and the last thing he wanted was them tracing him back to Foxy's. They were already connecting this place to Freddy's; they would certainly find out about Foxy's past if they looked hard enough.
For now, Mike was stuck at a standstill. "No cameras, no witnesses, happened in broad daylight, and nobody noticed a thing," Mike thought with disappointment. He ran a weary hand over his face and headed towards the front door. His gaze wandered to the robot positioned beside it, which he hadn't noticed on the way in. "Huh… So, this is the maybe-maybe not animatronic," he remarked. He looked at the coin slot on its front. "…Eh, I'm here anyway."
Curious to see the 'animatronic' do something other than stand there, Mike dropped a quarter into it and twisted the crank. The robot suddenly came to life with flashing colors over its body. Then a robotic voice spoke up.
"I am Candy Cadet. Come get your candy here. I have candy all day, every day. Candy. Candy. Candy," the flashing robot said. Then, with the quietest popping noise, a piece of candy dropped into the opening on its front. Mike quirked a brow and took the brightly wrapped piece. "Return to Candy Cadet again and maybe I will tell you a story?" the robot added. With that, the lights dimmed, and the robot fell silent again. Mike sent it a very unenthused thumbs up.
"Good job. That was about what I expected," Mike said. He then turned towards the door. "Not curious enough for that story to stick another quarter in, but at least you tried." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he stepped outside and looked around the parking lot.
For a moment Mike tried to simply imagine what had happened, as though his imagination would give him the answers that he sought. A child alone in a parking lot, in daylight, suddenly taken by an unknown person. No wonder they were checking the desert; the whole thing sounded like nonsense if thought through a few times. That alone made the business a prime suspect, but perhaps that was what the kidnapper wanted. An eleven-year-old boy would've fought and yelled, so it seemed like he would've had to have been lured away by something. Perhaps into the back of a van.
Mike unrolled the piece of candy and popped it into his mouth. He promptly spit it right back into the wrapper. "Ugh, I think I would've preferred the story," Mike thought as he rolled it back up. He still stuck it in his pocket even though he had no intention of eating it. Yet before he could make his next decision, he was interrupted by a voice to his left.
"Hey Buddy, you got a light?" a dry, crackling voice asked. Mike had been too distracted with the candy to pay attention as the man slinked over, but now looking at him he was unnerved that he had let the man get so close. The man looked older than him, perhaps a bit younger than Scott, but was nearly as gaunt as a skeleton. His skin was sullen, and a few dots of open sores rested on his cheeks and chin. When the man sent him a smile, Mike noticed dull, yellowed teeth.
"…This guy works here?" Mike asked himself in disbelief. Something about the man just rubbed him the wrong way. The appearance alone was a dead giveaway. "Sorry, I've got nothing."
"It was worth a short," the guy said with that same, wide smile. "If you're looking for a job, I'd look somewhere else. If this place stays open past the end of the month, I'll be shocked." He chuckled at the thought, then coughed into his fist. Perhaps he didn't need a cigarette that badly, Mike thought. He assumed that the man would then leave after this, but he didn't do so, and so the conversation- if it could be called that- continued.
"I think I'd choose a better time to look for a job," Mike said. "I'm here looking to see if there's any animatronics or arcade cabinets for sale. I work over at Foxy's." He almost immediately regretted saying the restaurant's name when the man gave him another one of his unsettling smiles.
"I've heard of that place. It's an off shoot of Freddy's, right?" the man asked.
"Not connected. Just the same animatronic," Mike insisted.
"Because Freddy's hasn't done that before!" the man crackled. "This place is just another Freddy's. All the stuff inside of there came out of one of the closed locations or somewhere. You better believe it's all connected." He seemed fully amused by it and didn't seem to notice how Mike was currently leering at him. By now the security guard was starting to suspect the strange man.
"So, you work here, or you worked at a Freddy's? Because you had an in at one of them," Mike asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"I work here, but there ain't much work to be done. Not now that someone's snatching kids all over the place," the man said. He stuck out a hand, "Dave Miller."
"Mike," Mike answered and went for the man's hand. He hesitated for a second as the name sunk in. The name Dave was one that he recognized, but only at this moment did he link it to something some time ago. In the back of his mind he vaguely remembered the Phone Guy saying something about a man named Dave working at Freddy's. "It's a common name. Might not be the same guy… Still knows a little too much about Freddy's… Has that 'creep from Freddy's' vibe." Despite his suspicions, he shook Dave's hand.
"Mike, huh?" Dave said with a little too much interest. "I'll try to remember that. If you've got an in at Foxy's, then I might be coming your way for a job after this place goes under. Or might just swing by Foxy's for the fun of it." Mike didn't like the way he said it. Nor did he like how Dave squeezed his hand at that comment. The longer he stayed with Dave, the more he wanted the man away from him, and far away from the business. He kept civility out of necessity.
"Depends on whether or not this elusive parents' group makes its rounds over at Foxy's," Mike quipped back. As per usual, he used humor to cover what he was really feeling, and as such he doubted that Dave could tell how much he suspected him. "I'll be back next week, so I'll be seeing you." He then jammed his hands in his pockets and started towards the car, thinking that he covered well enough.
"By the way, purple's a good look on you," Dave called after him. By time Mike turned around, the man was heading inside, and an uncomfortable feeling settled into his gut. That comment wasn't a compliment, a come on, or anything else even like normal social behavior. Dave had specifically pointed out the color, pointed out the purple uniform, which was one of the few things that carried over from Freddy's. Any worker would be sure to recognize the gaudy color. No, Dave wasn't complimenting him; he was calling him out.
"He did it. He's the child snatcher. I can't prove it, but there's no way he didn't," Mike determined. "Of all the things to survive Freddy's, it had to be the freaks." He was abuzz with disgust and continued suspicion as he climbed back into the car and shut the driver's door. "Did you see that guy outside the front?"
"The thin one? Yes," Marionette said from the back seat. He inched over the middle console while making sure to stay low. "He triggered my programming. He's the first purple person I've seen in some time."
"Really? He was looking purple?" Mike asked. He watched the front door a moment longer before looking down to turn the key. "Stay low. He's still in there looking out." The man then proceeded to turn the car around and drive out of the parking lot, and onto the safety of the highway. By now they were surely out of the view of the unsettling man.
"Since the Pizzeria opened, I've become more relaxed. Strangers no longer look like purple monsters to me. I see people as they are: human beings with lives. Not all adults are dangerous…" Marionette paused a moment as he looked up at Mike. "But the second I saw that man, he lit up so brightly that it makes your uniform look pale in comparison. He was entirely purple. Something's wrong with him."
"I'll say, it's Dave," Mike pointed out. Marionette looked confused, but he too felt a touch of familiarity at the voice. "Whether or not he's the same Dave that Scott was talking about has yet to be seen."
"Dave… That sounds familiar…" Marionette looked downwards in thought. "And if he worked at the pizzeria then perhaps that is why he is so purple. Perhaps my programming recognized him before I did?" He sounded both surprised and disturbed, both of which Mike would eagerly agree were appropriate.
"We'll figure out if he's the same guy the second we get to Scott's. That's where I'm going," Mike said. Marionette wouldn't argue with him on that front. "…But on a lighter note, I met your twin while inside."
"Excuse me?" Marionette asked in confusion as he looked upwards at the guard.
"They called it the Magic Puppet Box," Mike said. He got a slightly smug, mostly amused smile, which was the giveaway that he was not joking. Marionette nearly straightened more for that than for the reveal of Dave's name and possible connection to Freddy's.
"You're kidding," the Puppet muttered. "Please, Mike, tell me you're pulling my strings."
"Oh, I wish. I just agreed to spend two hundred dollars to buy it; I'd say it's the real deal," Mike said with a chuckle. "Spitting image of you, except a few difference. This sort of tail thing out of the back of its head and its tear stripes are blue instead of purple." He noticed the growing look of offense on the animatronic's mask. "Doesn't come on or anything, but maybe if you wrapped your strings into it you could puppeteer it."
"There is another version of myself, another animatronic that looks just like me, sitting inside of that theater… And you offered to buy it?" Marionette wasn't sure how to react, but the mix of alarm and offense was there. Someone was using his image for another animatronic, and now Mike was agreeing to take it in. It wasn't as though it was haunted either, or Mike would've said so.
"I don't know. I thought maybe you'd think its cute and want to keep it," Mike playfully remarked. Marionette sent him a flat sort of look.
"Keep your friends close, keep your doppelgangers closer?" the Puppet challenged. He crossed his arms and added in with finality, "We're not taking it home."
The human smirked a little wider at the response. It had all been worth it for this reaction alone.
Mable: In case you are wondering, Scott did mention a man named Dave before. To save you the trouble of having to go look for what he said, Scott said that he didn't trust Dave and considered him a liar… And yes, this is from the man who didn't immediately suspect something off with a man named Fredrick Fazmann. Bang up job as usual, Phone Guy. XD Thanks for reading and the next chapter will be posted soon. Happy late Fourth of July!