The assistant manager led Mike into an office where the lights bathed the room in an eerie blue color, the only sounds being their footsteps and a fan spinning on the desk. Mike briefly glanced at the walls and smirked when he saw that, just like literally every other part of the building, the walls were covered in Freddy Fazbear posters; the one place where the guy didn't have to have the characters shoved down his throat, but still chose to fill it with merchandise anyway. The assistant manager sat down at his desk, with Mike having to stand in front of it.

The assistant manager cleared his throat, "Well, uh, I can tell by the look on your face that you'd like to make a complaint concerning this establishment, Mr. Schmidt. Um, I'll take some time to listen, but, you have to be out of here before midnight."

"Why?"

"All of the other employees will've left by then," the man explained, "Also, um, the animatronics will be activated to roam around the building. A-and since they don't have a proper 'night mode' or whatever, they'll be all over you since they don't get to physically interact with the people anymore, you know what I mean?" the assistant manager was giving Mike a shaky smile the whole time.

"Sure," Mike scoffed, "Who's the night guard?" The assistant manager laughed weakly and answered,

"That lucky guy happens to be me! Ha-ha... I'm retiring in November, as a matter of fact. My doctor says it's not healthy for me to continue working like this as I get older. Um, it's a very high-stress job; not only do I have to keep the animatronics from...making a mess, but, ~cough~ since we're not located in the safest town in the state there's a chance that someone might want to break in and vandalize the property, and things like that..."

The man shook his head and waved his hands, "That's enough about me! We've only got a little more than an hour until my shift starts," he apologized, "So, now's the time for you to let it all out, Mr. Schmidt, I'm all ears!" He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands together. Mike opened his mouth, but, he suddenly had a realization: he'd been waiting for so long to talk to someone that he forgot what the purpose of his trip to the pizzeria was all about.

Mike imagined himself raising Hell by voicing his disappointment in how they let his friend get injured on the job, how the rest of Jeremy's life was most likely spent in a bed dependent on others to look after him... but, what would Mike have accomplished? The accident happened sixteen years ago, if it was bad enough to shut down the restaurant, it would've been shut down a long time ago! Who knew if the man in front of him would even know what he was talking about? If Mike told him the whole story, the assistant manager would probably just respond with a blank stare.

Why make a big fuss about an event that happened so long ago? As far as Mike knew, nothing about the restaurant changed; the animatronics were still there, maybe the accident was what gave the incentive for the characters to never move around during the day anymore? Ugh, I didn't think this through... Mike lamented with a sigh. The assistant manager asked him a bit concernedly, "Um, Mr. Schmidt? Are you alright?" Mike was snapped back into reality; he needed to come up with a better reason to be there fast,

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just thinking..." Mike then informed the man the first thing that came to his head, "This isn't actually a complaint, per say. Um, as of recently, I've become very interested in the history of the Freddy Fazbear's Pizza franchise. I was wondering if you had anything like a bunch of newspapers or anyone I could contact to get some information, I was hoping to write a book about the subject one of these days!" A book... a book? Okay, just roll with it... The assistant manager was visibly set off by Mike's excuse, leaning forward with a fury in his eyes; breaking the dissonant attitude he had earlier, the man glared at Mike,

"Is that what this is all about?!" he sputtered, "So, you want to tell the whole country about all those incidents?"

"All the incidents...?" Mike was interrupted,

"This place has been quiet for sixteen years and you want to re-spark all the horrible memories!" the assistant manager spat, slamming his hands on the desk. The man, with beads just appearing on his head, took a few deep breaths, "So sorry," he apologized, "I've found that over the years I've become more irritable," he sat back down at his desk, "Um, if it makes you feel any better, uh, the health inspectors are gonna shut down this place by the end of the year... heh, it's not just the animatronics that smell bad these days, the janitors have gotten real lazy..."

The assistant manager opened up a drawer, took out a sticky note, and began writing something down, "I'm gonna help you write your book, I'm sure Fazbear Entertainment won't be around to stop you by the time it's published; I'm sure you'll handle the, uh, topic with care and sensitivity..." Mike slowly nodded, "So, I'm giving you this email address that I hope you'll find useful." The assistant manager handed Mike the sticky note that said: olivermouse on it.

The man explained, "That's just the name of one of her book characters. Her real name is Elizabeth Sanders, she's the one who designed all of the characters." Mike looked up, not sure of how to respond. The assistant manager went on, "She illustrates and sometimes writes kid's books. She might give you info on the earliest days of Freddy Fazbear's, she was there even when it was called Fredbear's Family Diner. But, I'm sure a lot of people blame her for all the incidents, so she might not respond right away." He shook hands with Mike.

"Um, thanks," Mike chuckled, "You really didn't have to do that."

"I just wanted to make up for my little outburst," the assistant manager laughed back, "And, well, I guess the rest of the country outside of the Midwest deserve to know... Just promise me you won't let it get too far out of hand if there's a response; I don't want a movie messing up all the facts to be made and twist the people's image of Freddy even further."

"Well, maybe I'll never get around to writing the book," Mike sighed, "Who knows?" He and the assistant manager shook hands and Mike left the office. The rest of the building was uncomfortably dark at this point, with only a few employees left spread out inside. Mike quickened his pace when he went back near the animatronics. As he opened the door, Mike very briefly glanced back at the frozen robots behind him before practically running outside towards his car.