'. . .Want a cake. . ?'

Luke looked up from his pouting.

'I found an old pie in the fridge. It's a miracle it hasn't rotted yet,' Jack grinned. 'You like strawberry-vanilla, don't you?'

The younger boy blew a raspberry and flopped down to the ground, making sure to turn away from him. He growled, 'We can't even touch it, so what's the point?'

'I think we can. If we try hard enough.'

'Really? How?' Luke hissed, sounding almost poisonous.

'The Purple Guy managed to lift Springtrap's head off, right?'

'He's. . . different,' he said, shuddering at the reminder.

'Chelsea grabbed you by the hand.'

Silence. Finally, 'We're both not real. Doesn't count.'

'I tripped on a soda can and fell right through you with the pain of a thousand needles.'

Luke didn't reply.

Jack got up and wandered around the room for a while before stopping at a box of newspapers. He shouted, 'I'll prove it!' He swiped at the box several times, trying to figure out how to hold things again. After what felt like hours, he held up a rolled up newspaper sheet. 'I DID IT I DID IT III DID IIIT!' He waved it high above his head, but it slipped out and unfolded on top of his head, obstructing hid view. '. . .Hey, there's Jo-Purple's photo here!'

Luke shot up. 'Really?!' He picked up the corner of the paper on his first try.

Sure enough, there was a picture of somebody who looked almost identical to the man. There were still noticeable differences, of course. His eyes looked more human than whatever he currently had, and his skin didn't look like it was tinted purple at all. If anything, he was abnormally pale. The man looked pretty casual, except for his creepy grin.

'Does it have a name?' Luke asked.

Jack tore it off of his head. '"Porfirio Larkspur Declared Cause of the Missing Children Incident",' he read aloud. '. . .That is a ridiculous name! His parents were trying too hard!'

'"Porfirio" means "purple",' came a voice.

Chelsea stared at the two startled boys. She continued, '"Larkspur" is also a type of purple flower. All parts of both species of larkspur are considered too toxic for human beings to ingest. Delphinium actually kills within a few hours due to cardiotoxic and neuromuscular blocking.'

The two continued to stare.

'What? I wanted to become a good chef. I need to know some botany. What plants are safe to grow for food, stuff like that.'

'. . .And we're back to cake!' Jack replied. 'Do you want any, Luke?'

The little boy gave a slow nod.

'Cake. At a time like this,' Derek hissed. 'You do realize what has been going on for the past, what, fifty years? Everybody is dead, our murderer himself has been tricking us, we've survived at least three re-openings. At least.'

Jack shrugged, 'Luke and Chelsea agreed to some.'

'Ditzes,' he said.

Jack gave a frustrated huff. With a grin almost as big as Springtrap's, he asked, 'If you don't want cake, you don't get to join in on the joke!'

'Is it that one about the ex-wife? Dude, we're kids.'

'It's funny!' he whined. 'That's not it, anyway. We figured out Purple's naaame!' Jack sang.

'So?'

Jack finally sighed, 'His name literally means "purple."'

'Seriously? That's stupid.'

He nodded.

'. . .Fine, I'll go to your lil' pizza party,' Derek muttered. 'All we can do here is be dead.'

Three down, two to go.

'HEY THERE, FRIEND.'

Ron found Jack before Jack found him. Not a bad thing, of course. Not like he could get a heart attack anymore, anyway.

'Whatcha doin'?!' he smiled. An actual smile. Not a common sight.

Jack groaned, 'Trying to get up from the floor.'

'That sounds fun. Can I join in?'

'Be my guest. Race me to the bottom of the stairs, throw yourself into a river, knock yourself out. See how that goes for you.'

Ron turned around probably to do those things, but Jack quickly called out, 'SARCASM.'

'Oh,' he said.

'So, uh, I found a-' Jack began.

'Yes.'

'W-What?'

Ron shrugged innocently and retorted, 'Yeah, I'd be glad to go to your cake party.'

'How on Earth. . ?'

'You talk loud. Pretty sure Mister Larkspur heard you at some point.'

Jack looked around. 'Where is he, anyway?'

'Dunno.'

Jack got up and put his head in his hands. 'Great, the most dangerous man of our time is roaming freely around the building. Did it occur to you that we might need to keep track of him?'

'Yeah.'

'And?'

'. . .I thought it was the thought that counts.'

'Uuurgh.'

'What are you doing now?' Ron asked.

'Complaining.'

'About what?'

The hall was empty. Julie was not to arrive for two more hours. There was still time to-

WHUMP.

Luke fell to the ground.

"The Purple Guy" loomed over him.

'H-H-Hi.'

You're plotting against me.

'W-What?' Luke stuttered.

Don't play dumb with me. The Puppet Boy is inviting all of you to some feast with cake. I am not deaf. It seemed that he just got ruder and ruder the more he learned about this man. You will tell me what you are going to do, or else. . . I'll. . . never let you move on! Yeah!

'I'd rather die a hundred times then do that,' the boy said, not sounding or looking too sure of himself.

When and where will this meet up take place, "Foxy"? He held a ghostly blade not too far away from the boy. Even if it was harmless, it was threatening enough.

'W-What used to be the kitchen, a-at, uh, half an hour before midnight.'

. . .Thanks for the tip. . . LAD. I'm sure you can handle an extra murderer at your party. . . No offense. But you kinda are. . . the strange man turned around. Enjoy your cake.