"YES!" there was a great amount of childlike joy exuberated by all four of the animatronics, each quickly regaining control of themselves, pretending as if nothing had happened.
"Thank you very much Michael," Freddy said with a smile. After a brief pause, he turned back to the other three, "Isn't there something you would like to say?"
"Thank you Michael," the three others said with a groan.
"There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Freddy looked back to the security guard, "We'll try to cause as little trouble as possible; I promise."
"T-trouble?" Michael asked, his voice raising in pitch.
"I mean, we won't cause a ruckus," Freddy clarified.
"I certainly hope not," said the guard, slipping away to the office.
Once inside, he immediately began checking the cameras. While a part of him wanted to trust these new animatronics, there was no way he was going to take any unnecessary risks. At the moment, none of them appeared particularly interested in chasing Michael down. They mostly just seemed to wander around, checking out their new surroundings. Chica immediately headed for the kitchen, and while Michael didn't have any visual on what was happening, he did not like the sound of it. Roxy wandered around for a while, checking her reflection in whatever she could before settling on the girl's bathroom. Monty seemed content to practice his guitar for the time being, but there was no telling how long that would keep his interest. Lastly, there was Freddy who was… right outside the office apparently. Michael quickly lunged for the button to shut the door, sealing the bear out.
"Michael, please, I would like to talk with you," the bear said, slightly muffled.
"Whatever you have to say can be said through the door, can't it?"
"Sir, please, I'm not going to harm you."
Michael, against his better judgement, flicked the button to open the door. If nothing else, he couldn't risk using all his power so early in the night. Besides, if they were to have attacked him, then it would most likely have been done by now. While he certainly still maintained a sense of caution, Mike knew there was no reason to be quite as on edge as before.
"Thank you," Freddy said, stepping through the doorway. He barely managed to fit in the cramped space. "I just wanted to speak with you seeing as… well, I'm sensing some hostility."
Michael scoffed. If he still had the ability to smirk then he would have done so, "That's certainly one way of putting it."
"I want to let you know that I understand where you're coming from," Freddy explained.
"You do?"
"Of course, changing to new animatronics can be difficult. You were probably very close to the old ones, and now you need to adjust to a whole new set."
Michael shook his head, "Sorry Fred, but as nice of a sentiment as that is, you're off by quite a bit."
Freddy's expression grew to one of surprise, as well as confusion, "Oh… well then, if you don't mind me being so forward, might I ask why you're acting quite so… trepidatious around us?"
"It's just that, I have some baggage when it comes to animatronics. Also, your predecessors tried to kill me every night."
"What?" Freddy's eyes widened, "But-but that should not be possible for a Fazbear brand animatronic! We are intended to entertain children, how could one of them ever turn hostile?"
"All four actually."
"I can't believe this," it was clear that the bear's shock was quite genuine. At least, that's how it looked to Michael. He couldn't imagine there was any benefit to acting so surprised at such a thing.
"It's more common than you think," the guard shrugged.
"Well, you can rest assured Michael, that none of us here are dangerous. We might have our… quirks, but really, we all mean well."
He stood there for a moment, waiting for a response of some kind. After a minute or so, it began to get awkward.
"Why don't you just go on your way and let me get on with my job,"
Reluctantly, Freddy gave a downtrodden nod and stepped out of the office. He began to walk away, pausing briefly before looking back, then left. Michael sat back in his chair. He couldn't believe it, but he almost felt bad for being so dismissive of Freddy like that. It was odd, they were just animatronics after all. Then again, he had never seen ones with such emotion. Freddy was so expressive, not only in voice but also facial expression. It truly was the next generation of robotics, right in front of his eyes.
Maybe the best thing to do was to just forget about all this for the time being. There was no reason he needed to get so worked up over the artificial feelings of some machines. He was about to resume checking the cameras when Freddy reappeared at his window.
"Um, sorry for bothering you again Mr. Michael sir, but I think there is a… situation occurring.
"What is it now Freddy?" Michael asked, disinterested.
"Well… it appears that Chica is, well um, that is to say… er… Chica is choking on something."
The security guard's head immediately perked up, unsure if he had heard what he thought he had, "She's what?"
"Choking. Although, I suppose since she doesn't need air to breath, that would be a misnomer, but still."
"Hold on, I don't understand. How can an animatronic choke on something?"
"Perhaps it would be better for you to just come and see for yourself."
Before Michael knew it, he was getting up and following Freddy to the party room, where the other three were waiting for them. Chica was sitting on one of the tables, not distressed per say, but clearly annoyed, unable to close her beak. Roxy and Monty stood at her side, each doing their best to come up with a solution.
"I'm telling you, we just gotta do the Heimlich maneuver," the gator insisted.
"And I'm telling you," Roxy argued, "that that only works on humans, not animatronic chickens!"
"Well of course not, that's why I've invented my own version," Monty explained, picking up one of the chairs, "If we hit her in the back, it's bound to pop out, right?"
At this, Michael felt the need to interrupt, "No, no, stop! Nobody is going to be hitting anybody with a chair!"
Monty put the chair down, rather disappointed. Mike placed his hands on his hips looking at them all as sternly as he could. Was this really happening? It just seemed so absurd. Then again, there were certain people out there who thought killer animatronics and ghosts were absurd as well, so in the grand scheme of things, perhaps this was not out of the realm of possibility. Still, if nothing else, it would take him time to adjust to this new change of pace. Hopefully not every night would be this chaotic.
"Alright, here's what we're going to do. One of you is going to go and grab the tool box from the room with the spare parts. Once it is brought back here, I will remove whatever is stuck in Chica, and then we will lay down some ground rules, since clearly I can't trust any of you to take care of yourselves!"
All four of the animatronics nodded slowly, much like children. After this, Monty clomped away, returning shortly after with the tool box. Michael set it on the table, opening it as the others watched. He scoffed once he saw what was inside, only the most rudimentary of supplies when it came to animatronic repair. Honestly, how was he expected to do anything with such basic equipment? It would do for now at the very least. It was a bit nerve wracking being so close to the animatronics, but he tried to remind himself that these were not the same ones as before. Soon enough, he had managed to dislodge the item stuck in Chica's throat, the bone of a chicken wing.
"Can you please explain to me what this was doing stuck inside of you?" Michael asked, holding it up.
"Well, I kinda got hungry," Chica said, embarrassed.
"Hungry? Hungry! You don't have a digestive system; how can you be hungry?"
"I don't know!"
Michael sighed, pinching his eyebrows, "Ok, rule one, no eating."
"But-"
"No. If any of you get damaged then my boss will be very upset. If any of you want to stay turned on at night, then I expect you to be on your best behavior. Do you understand?"
The animatronics nodded once again, all four-looking humble, which was certainly something Michael never could have imagined the old ones doing. Things really were different. He walked over to the trash throwing the bone away, before glancing back.
"And I expect one of you to bring those tools back to the parts room," he said before leaving down the hall. Monty quickly picked it up, taking it away.
"Out of everything to eat, why did you go with a chicken bone?" he heard Roxy ask behind him.
"I didn't know!" Chica responded, "I wasn't paying any attention!"
Upon getting back to his office, Michael leaned against the desk, head resting in his hand, "The animatronic characters do get a little quirky at night, indeed," he sighed. He was beginning to feel less like a security guard and more like a baby sitter. A part of him still wondered if they would resort to attacking him. He had been fairly harsh with them earlier after all. Then again, if Chica could be inhibited by something as harmless as a chicken bone, then surely it wouldn't take that much to stop them. While Michael certainly hoped it would not come to that possibility, he did not yet want to rule it out.
Suddenly, he heard a knock. He glanced over to see Chica standing in his doorway, looking rather sorrowful. He so desperately wanted to hit that door button, but at this point he knew he probably didn't need to.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"I just… I just wanted to thank you,"
"Oh," Michael sat up, a bit taken aback, "Well it's um, it's no big deal."
"I'm sure to you it isn't, but to me it was. I mean, tomorrow's my first day, and I sure didn't want to start it with a chicken bone stuck in my throat. So, yeah, thanks."
Michael was about to say something in response, but before he could, she slipped away.
