Freddy Fazbear's Pizza - Thursday, December 16th, 1993

Porfirio came into work that morning and made his way to the locker room, just as he had before the incident on Tuesday had occurred. He glanced at the mirror briefly as he remembered what had taken place there; what he had done two days ago.

Don't feel bad, he deserved it. You know he did. You enjoyed every moment of that.

"I didn't," Porfirio argued.

Why are you fighting with me? You know I'm right, so stop being so stupid. You listened to me, so now you can reap the rewards. You have your freedom, you have that pathetic little hairball at home. You wouldn't have anything without me.

"S-Shut up!" he exclaimed. "I hate you!"

Aw, how cute… You can't hate me. We're the only ones that love you; the only ones you can trust.

We all know that you only have Haruka for your own selfish gain. I'm proud of you for trying, but it can't last. Unless you get rid of her, she'll find out eventually. Get rid of her soon, or you'll be sorry.

"No… I can't… I love her, I need her!"

What, because she loves those dumb slasher movies you both adore so much? Come on, Porfirio, that's not love. She couldn't possibly love you.

And you couldn't love her as you claim to. You're selfish, mean, and uncaring. You're heartless and incapable of love. She's better off without a monster like you in her life.

He grabbed his uniform from his locker, slamming the door after. "You're wrong," he spat. "Go away, both of you!" Instead, all he heard was laughter. He knew it was directed at him. His friends were laughing at him, mocking him. Porfirio tried to cover his ears, tried to run, but no matter what he did, they wouldn't quiet down. Cruel laughter was the only thing he could hear.

He threw on his uniform, grateful for the spare, unstained shirt in his locker, and fled from the locker room. Their teasing followed him.

What are you going to do, cry about it? That won't help you.

He continued to try to flee without success, until a firm voice cut through it all.

"Mr. Richmond," Thomas snapped. "My office. Immediately."

Porfirio swallowed sharply, knowing it was all over now. He'd been caught.

You should've listened to us. Now he knows. I hope you're happy.

His eyes widened in terror as he remained frozen in shock for a few moments. When he was able to move again, he bolted for the door, trying one last time to escape. This time, he would not come back. It was too dangerous. Before he could go more than a few steps, he felt a hand tightly wrap around his wrist.

"And where do you think you're off to in such a rush?"

Porfirio struggled, trying to free himself, but was unsuccessful.

"Come along now," Thomas grumbled, forcing him to come to the office with him. When they arrived, Mr. Fazbear shut and locked the door behind him, ensuring his employee would be unable to make another attempt at running away. "Have a seat," he commanded. With a sigh, Porfirio did as he was told, hanging his head submissively. By this point, he knew his only option was to comply.

His boss sat in front of him at his desk, his fingers interlaced. Thomas peered at him suspiciously, watching him with caution.

"Now, tell me. What happened with Mr. Howard earlier this week?"

You can try to get out of this… Don't tell him anything!

He remained silent, keeping his head down. His heart raced and he felt himself starting to shake from the anxiety.

This is your fault. You're going back to jail now, all because you didn't do what you were told, idiot.

"Mr. Richmond?"

Again, he did not speak.

Thomas sighed in frustration. "I know it was you, so it's in your better interest to just tell me."

This isn't good...

Porfirio squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hand into a fist. He desperately willed them to be quiet, but they continued to interject whenever they felt like it. All he could think about was leaving the room, the building, the city, and even the country entirely. He'd move to America and start over again. Surely he'd be safer there. No one would have to know about his past in Canada.

"Maxwell, this will go much easier for both of us if you'd cooperate," Mr. Fazbear said.

He swallowed hard and mumbled "I'm sorry..." He still didn't look at him.

"For...?" he prodded.

"For hurting Anthony," Porfirio continued.

"You did more than 'hurt him'. He's in the hospital, and you should be lucky he didn't bleed to death. Hell, I could, and should, turn you in for this, and you'd be put in jail! I've put up with enough over the years, and I don't need this trouble on top of all of that. My company could very well be in jeopardy because of this little stunt you've pulled."

He shot his head up to look at Thomas as he mentioned the possibility of serving jail time, a terrified expression on his face. "N-No, please..." he pleaded. "I-I'll leave, you'll never have to see me again!"

You're pathetic, you know that? You're begging for forgiveness like a dog looking for dinner scraps. And like a dog, you won't receive any.

His boss' face somehow grew even graver. "Let someone who should be going to jail just leave without a trace? Not a chance."

You don't need permission. Just run when you can!

"I-I didn't mean to!" Porfirio exclaimed.

You liked it. You enjoyed every moment of it. You're not fooling anyone.

Thomas watched him closely, analyzing his every move and every shaky breath he took. "Really, now? Explain that to Mr. Howard. He told me you tried to kill him," he accused.

"I-" Porfirio cut himself off, pulling a hand through his hair in a stressed manner. "It's not like that..."

Aw, you know it was exactly 'like that'. It's cute that you're trying to play nice for the big man, especially after what you did to his family.

"N-No I'm not!" he yelled back. "It wasn't like that!"

Thomas raised his eyebrow quizzically. "You're not what?"

Porfirio wanted to shrink away into nothingness. They began to laugh at him again; at his suffering. He sounded distressed as he forced himself to utter "Nothing" in response to the question.

Lying, just as you always do. See? We know what's best for you.

Mr. Fazbear's expression softened slightly. "Maxwell, is there something bothering you that you'd like to tell me about?"

"Don't call me that!" he screamed. After realizing what he had said, he covered his mouth and ran to the door, frantically twisting the handle, futilely. He'd let his guard down, and now the truth would get out. He was done for.

"What do you mean?" Thomas frowned. "Is that not your name…?"

He kept his face turned to the door, relaxing his grip on the knob and sighing in defeat. "N-No, actually… It isn't," he admitted.

Mr. Fazbear paused for a moment, clearly not expecting that answer. "Well… What is your name?"

"Porfirio…" he uttered half-heartedly.

Thomas' eyes lit up in surprise. "Porfirio Violet… My my, how you've changed. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

He nodded a little, still not returning to his seat. He didn't want to face him again, fearing he knew what had happened; what he had done. Porfirio hoped he'd be lucky, but he doubted it.

What's wrong with you? Why did you tell him that? Now you're in trouble for sure!

"It has," he agreed.

"Have a seat. It'd be wonderful to catch up with you," he suggested. There was an edge of caution in his voice as he watched Porfirio, keeping the recent incident in mind.

After several moments of silent debate, he sat back down in the seat, trying to tell them that he was doing his best, despite their protests. He waited for Thomas to direct the conversation.

"So, what have you been up to since you quit?" he inquired.

"Well," Porfirio began, uncomfortably. "My mother got sick, so I moved away to take care of her, up to her death."

As if she would have wanted scum like you around her in her final moments.

Hey, anything helps. He's buying it, see?

At least there's that.

Mr. Fazbear frowned. "I'm so sorry to hear that…"

He shrugged a little, not meeting his boss' gaze.

"So, you're back now, I take it?"

"I am."

"I see…" he said. "But, what's with this name change? We would have gladly welcomed you back, Mr. Violet." Thomas smiled a little. "You were a fine employee, taking on work wherever you were needed most. I don't see why you would want to keep that a secret."

"I guess I just... needed a fresh start."

He nodded in understanding. "Would you prefer for me to call you Maxwell?"

"Uh…"

You've failed already, so it doesn't really matter. Too many people know.

He shrugged again.

"It's a pleasure to have you back. Now, would you mind explaining to me what happened with Mr. Howard?"

Porfirio tensed up, curling in on himself a little. "I didn't mean to hurt him, sir…"

Any trace of the smile on Thomas' face had left. "I don't believe that, Mr. Violet. It was clearly deliberate. But, I'm willing to keep quiet about this as I've done with previous…" he hesitated. "accidents, but I need you to tell me why. I can't cover this up if I don't know what happened."

"We got into a fight. It got out of hand."

Keep telling yourself that. You and I both know what actually happened. You made a mistake, Porfirio. Anthony doesn't deserve to live. We're the only friends you'll ever have.

He cringed a little as he heard the snide remark. All he could do was hope his excuse was believable.

"A fight… I see." Mr. Fazbear reclined in his chair. "Tell you what, to preserve the name of the company, we'll put this behind us. I won't be so forgiving if you muck about like this again, and I'll have no choice but to take this to the authorities. I know you have an outstanding work ethic, and you'll put it to good use to make up for this. Understood?"

"Yes, sir…"

Thomas grinned, stood, and offered his hand to Porfirio. "Welcome back."

He shook hands with him and left the room when the door was unlocked for him. After he heard what was expected of him, he knew escape was no longer an option. He'd just have to be careful… Crafty and cautious. If he played his cards right, he'd be safe. Or so he hoped.

Well, he's too dense to have figured it out, so keep the squawking know-it-all quiet, and you have a chance.

Oh, it'd be so much easier if you could just leave!

"You know I can't," he grumbled under his breath. "Besides, I'm not leaving Haruka."

You know you need to break it off, but we'll deal with that later. For now, appease the boss and keep the little kiss-up quiet. We'll keep you safe, but you've got to listen.

"I will."

Good.

Freddy watched from his spot on the stage as the office door opened and the men inside made their way out. He continued to sing his song, as he was supposed to, but was merely going through the motions today. His mind was elsewhere. His focus was on his father; the one he knew he'd never get to speak to again. What was he up to? Sometimes, he'd hear him humming 'Carmen Overture', quietly to himself. He even had that little red '#1 Dad' keychain Freddy had made for him for Father's Day almost a decade ago still hanging off of his work keys. Hearing the song and seeing that little ornament broke his heart, knowing how much he was missed; left to helplessly watch him and unable to ease his pain.

Thomas had lost everything important to him. The only family he truly had left was his brother, and he only showed up occasionally. Otherwise, he was alone, filling his time with the business.

What if he lost that as well? Freddy thought to himself. Would he be able to continue on? He didn't know, but he certainly wouldn't want to find out. But no matter what, he would do his very best to make sure he put on the best show possible. If the kids were entertained, surely they'd keep coming back. And if they kept coming back, they'd keep making money, and the business would thrive. At least, that's what he hoped.

As his mind wandered, he remembered that Christmas was approaching quickly. As a young child, his eyes would light up at the mention of gifts and eating such a lovely meal. Seeing the snow falling and the festive lights only made him depressed, now that he was trapped and forgotten at the restaurant. The holiday cheer only served to remind him of all that he has lost. Those joyful mornings of gathering around the decorated tree with his father, uncle, and brother were long gone, especially the ones with both of his parents.

At least his mother was free, with God rather than being trapped. He knew he should have felt lucky to have gotten another chance at life, yet doubts always lurked in the back of his mind. For a brief moment, the thought of having a Christmas with his family once more, like before, crossed his mind. He hastily scolded himself for hoping for such a thing. Freddy knew it was unrealistic, and that letting himself hold onto that hope would only serve to hurt him.

At least he had Gilead again. He also had his other friends to 'celebrate' with him. Maybe someone would be kind enough to visit them on Christmas night. Again, another unattainable wish. Freddy reasoned that staring at the empty pizza boxes sounded like a nice way to spend the holidays. They could actually make a pizza to put in the box, but there'd be no one to eat it, so that would be a pointless activity.

Freddy didn't want to think about Christmas anymore. Not when he realized his father would only have Uncle Everett for company. Between his own situation and his father's, he concluded that Christmas had officially become his least favourite holiday, despite having once been his most anticipated time of the year.

Shaking the thought from his mind, he tried to focus on just who that man leaving the office was. That Maxwell guy, hired a few weeks ago... Freddy watched him as he patrolled the restaurant, and every time, he felt a strange sense of déjà vu wash over him. He wasn't sure why, but he couldn't help but feel like he had seen him somewhere before. The more he thought about it, the more it sent a chill down his spine, yet he couldn't place why. Where had he seen him? Maybe he hadn't. In all likelihood, he probably just had one of those familiar faces, and Freddy was simply putting too much thought into it.

Then again, he saw his father drag him into the office, clearly not by the man's will. What had that been all about? He realized that being the Freddy Fazbear of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza did not entitle him to know every secret the company had. He desperately wanted to know what had transpired in that office moments ago, and knew it'd be difficult for him to find out, with limited contact with the human staff. But he was determined to find out, one way or another. At least he now had Mike, Fritz, and Anthony to talk to, and figured he could try to enlist their help. But, the bigger question was: if they knew anything, would they tell him?