It was nine o' clock at night, on the day Mike left for the town over.

Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie were all fussing and stressing over him. This caused Mike himself to start freaking out, and all there was left to calm them down was Foxy, who seemed to have trouble doing that.

"Listen, lad!" Foxy groaned, shaking his shoulders. "It just a couple o' toys. Prolly can't even hurt ye. One watchlad 'gainst twelve robots? He survivin' that long, they must not be so bad. Trust me, Mikey; they be pitiful."

Mike swallowed and nodded. "I'll take your word for it."

"Be careful, Mike!" Chica warned, hugging him.

"Make sure not to aggravate the bunnies, if there be any." Bonnie supplied. "The bunnies are the worst."

"And be sure to show off and teach him any techniques he doesn't know. That way the respect will be distributed evenly; you for his strength and him for your wit!" Freddy cheered. Mike delivered a glare, and Freddy shrugged. "What? It's true."

"Sure, sure." Mike shook his head and smiled. "You know, it feels pretty good to be fussed over."

Chica copied his grin and hugged him again. "Then we'll do it more often."

xXx

Mike shut the truck door, wincing at how loud it seemed in the silence of the dark street. The sister location was called Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, just like his own workplace. However, this location was much, much larger, and so much more decorative. It was eleven o' clock at night-just about time to start the shift with their night guard-and the lights of the pizzeria were still on. Mike assumed they had been waiting for him. Sure enough, as he walked up the steps to the front doors, the glass entrances opened, courtesy of a large, dark-skinned balding man the size of a small rhinoceros.

Is that the night guard?

"Ah! You must be the guy my cousin sent!" The big guy welcomed, opening the door for him. "I'm the boss here; You can call me Mr. Smalls."

You sure? Mike thought to himself, and held back a sigh of relief. At least he isn't the night guard. He's scary.

"So, he says you're good with robots! For my own guy's sake, hope you are. Poor guy. Never gets a day off, see; he comes in night shift, parts of the day shift, helps the other employees-he's always on his feet. I tried to get him to stop but he's one stubborn kid. That's why I called you in today, guy! You can tame the robots a bit, give my guy some relief, and you'll get paid. We're all happy!"

"I'm Mike." Mike introduced, hoping to avoid getting called 'guy' again.

"Good, good." Mr. Smalls shook his hand, which was more of an violent attack than a handshake. Make rubbed his arm so that it wouldn't fall off. Mr. Smalls perked up at the sound of a door clicking shut. "Ah hah! Here's my guy, now! Jeremy, come and meet Mike!"

Mike turned to see who it was. It would undoubtedly be the strangest introduction he'd ever experience.

At first glance, Jeremy was pathetic. He was thin, pale, had overgrown and scruffy yellow hair, and a childish face. His uniform of a blue button up and trousers seemed a little big and he sported a cap advertising a TV show. He was short. Mike was about to ask what age this guy was, but that's when he did a double take.

Gloves. Black gloves.

Jeremy's first glance at Mike made him drop his tablet, eyes wide.

"You!" They both shouted unanimously.

Mr. Smalls glanced back and forth between them. "Jeremy, you already know this guy?"

Jeremy seemed at a loss for words. Mike decided to answer for him. "We met once. At school. During lunch. One time. Didn't think I'd actually see you again!"

"I-I-Me neither!" He stuttered, a small accent that Mike hadn't heard before creeping in. "You work at Freddy's?!"

"You work at Freddy's?!"

"Do I sense I budding bromance?" Mr. Smalls intervened with a snort. He ruffled Jeremy's hair, which probably would've given him a concussion if Jeremy wasn't plainly used to it. "Well, pick it up later. Got a restaurant to close down. Jeremy, go get the left wings. Mike an' me will get the right."

"'Kay, sir." Jeremy, totally confused, stumbled off down a wide hallway. A loud click from within, and the light in the hall went down.

"Funny that you know that kid. He just kinda..." Mr. Smalls spread his hands, trying to look for the right words. "...kinda blends into the wall sometimes."

"He's so... short."

"Oh, he just turned seventeen. One o' them nerds that graduated high school early and jumped straight into college. Not old enough to get into them big businesses yet, so we kind of adopted him." Mr. Smalls gave Mike a stern look. "He gets picked on all the time. I don't wanna hear nothing about you doing the same. Treat him nicely tonight. And whatever you do, do not bring up his parents. Now, come help me shut down the place."