Mike continued polishing Foxy's hook as the fox started talking.

"Ye see, lad, tha' Cap'n wasn't always tha' stubborn, sullen landlubber he is today. T'was many years ago...but he used to be like us. All cheer and happiness...he even smiled and laughed."

Mike tried to imagine Freddy smiling genuinely, but he found he couldn't. The bear was just...so serious. It seemed unheard of.

"Sad part was that Bonnie, Chica and I were new at tha' time. We was all activated for only a few months. Five...or six, maybe. But no more than a year. Those memories are mighty fuzzy now, but if I think real hard, I can almost picture him smilin' again."

"What happened?" Mike asked.

Foxy sighed and placed his free paw to his head. "The Reboot happened."

"Reboot?"

The fox nodded. "Ye see, laddie, a full reboot to us is like memory loss to ye humans. We lose everything we have; all wiped clean. The humans say it's to prevent permanent shutdown or motherboard damage."

"So, Freddy's memory was erased?"

"In a way, lad. Tha' Cap'n had somethin' wrong with his head. I don't remember what it was, but it was hurtin' him real bad. We didn't know what was going on till it was too late...and he shut down on us. That was tha' worst night I've ever recorded.

"We couldn't wake him up, and we thought that we had lost him fer sure. But then tha' humans came and took him, sayin' that they'll fix him...but they would have to reboot him. When tha' Cap'n finally awoke...well, to say it was hell was an understatement, lad. T'was horrible. It was hard both on him and on tha' lot of us."

Mike could only imagine what happened. "Wow...I didn't know..."

Foxy sighed. "Well, all that's in tha' past, me boy. Tha' good part was that tha' Cap'n managed to rewire himself, so he didn't completely lose all of his data...but I've yet to see him smile since that night. True, we miss his old self at times, but we've long gotten used to tha' way he is now."

After some more time, Foxy came bursting out of the Backstage, his shiny new hook gleaning brightly.

"AVAST, ME MATEYS! FOXY BE HERE AND HE'S READY TO SAIL THA' SEVEN SEAS!" he boomed loudly as he started prancing around the Dining Hall.

He was all fixed up again! After twenty long years of rotting away in the Cove, he was finally fixed again! No more broken, hanging jaw; no more holes and tears in his chest; and no more bare endoskeletons for legs! He was complete again, and all spiffy clean, too, while at it! Oh, he didn't think he felt this happy ever since he was first activated!

Bonnie and Chica were quick to run over to the joyous fox. "Oh, Foxy, you look amazing! Just like new again!" Chica exclaimed.

"I guess we're gonna have to get used to the fact that your jaw moves now, right?" Bonnie joked as he tossed an arm around his pirate friend. "It's great to see you fixed, Foxy."

"Well, me boy, don't be thankin' me. Thank Mike over there; he be the one who fixed us all!" Foxy said, gesturing to said night guard.

"Hooray for Mike!" Chica exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Oh, we should throw a party for this!"

True to her word, the yellow chicken had immediately started getting out all the festivities ready for the Mike party. She dashed into the kitchen and started cooking up a storm: pizza, cupcakes, and a fizzy lemonade that rocked his world. Even if she was a robot, Chica had to be the most kickass cook ever!

Bonnie didn't waste any time, either. He set aside one of the tables and decorated it fully. After getting Mike's favorite color, the purple rabbit went and got streamers, balloons, confetti, and party hats that fit the color scheme. Soon, the table was nicely decorated, looking fit for a king.

Foxy, however, was a crafty little one. He went to the back of the Pirate's Cove and came out with a dusty-looking bottle. Mike thought it was a prop or something, until Foxy had shown that it was actually a bottle of rum. Pirate rum, to be exact; the "richest stuff atop tha' seven seas", as Foxy put it. Luckily, Mike was definitely over twenty-one years of age, so he didn't have to deny it. He knew that he probably wouldn't be able to drive home if he drank, but hey, no one else was coming here. He could maybe just crash here for a little while until he felt sober enough. However, Foxy only let him have a sip, since one swig of this stuff and it would blow your mind. Bonnie and Chica couldn't even take one drop without getting completely trashed.

And holy shit, Foxy was right. Minutes after he had ingested the rum, Mike started to feel lightheaded and euphoric. Yep. He was definitely crashing here until he could drive.

Once the food was all ready, Chica brought it all out, pizza and all. The delicious aromas intoxicated Mike's nostrils; it smelled so fucking good! He couldn't to sink his teeth into a gooey, cheesy slice of heaven.

The rest of Mike's shift consisted of laughing, talking, eating and drinking by him and the three animatronics. Shame that Freddy never came; he was surely missing out on some great shit here!

Slowly, but surely, 6 AM came and went.

Mike probably would have stayed asleep if the morning sunlight hadn't shone on him. Groaning slightly, he opened his eyes and looked around.

He was sleeping on the Show Stage, for some reason. The party things were still on the table, though the food was long gone. Metal clanging from the kitchen told Mike that Chica was probably in there, and he could see Foxy and Bonnie. The rabbit was sleeping on the table, and the fox was out cold on the floor, still holding the bottle of rum in his grip.

Mike involuntarily let out a hiccup as he sat up shakily. Man, last night had been the best fucking party ever! Forget the parties at his college; these guys knew exactly how to throw a shebang!

He still felt pretty lightheaded, but not as trashed as he was a few hours earlier. He didn't have the means to patch up his piece-of-shit car if he crashed it, so it'd be best if he stayed here a tad longer. There was no harm in staying, right?

Even so, he better retrieve his stuff early on. It was better to do so now than to panic while looking for it later.

Mike let out a yawn as he pulled himself to his feet. His legs were shaky, but at least he wasn't tumbling down like a dumbass. He shuffled his way over to the Backstage room and collected his tools and put them back in his toolkit. He then started to look for his overnight bag, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Now where did I put it?" Mike thought groggily to himself as he peered around the sunlit walls of the pizzeria. It wasn't on the tables, nor on the floor...and after doing a quick check, it wasn't lying under Bonnie and Foxy, who were still conked out.

"Hey, Chica?" Mike called out. "Did I leave my overnight bag in the kitchen? It's a dark blue one with black handles."

"No, sorry, Mike. It's not in here," Chica's reply came a few moments later. "But would you like some breakfast pizza? We've got a special sausage recipe!"

"I'll have that, thanks," Mike replied before turning back to the rest of the pizzeria. Well, the bag was not in the kitchen. If it wasn't anywhere else, then it had to be...shit.

It was in the Office. And guess who was in there at the time?

That's right, it was the Fazbear. Congrats, Mike! You are now officially the greatest idiot on the whole planet. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo!

Mike brushed off the incoming chill and made his way down the hall. "Come on, Mike, get ahold of yourself," he scolded himself. "Freddy's not gonna stuff you in a suit. Just ask him for the bag, and you'll be all set. That's it. Nothing to it, right?"

Mike was still repeating these words to himself as he arrived at the Office doors. He pressed the buttons to open them, and was about to enter, when he took a look inside, and what he saw instantly stopped him in his tracks.

"Aw, fuck..." he whispered to himself in dismay.