Toy Bonnie panted heavily, hands on knees as he came to a halt just outside of Kid's Cove. That chicken was a plotter, and somehow he always managed to get roped up in her crazy and idiotic schemes. He couldn't believe he was seriously going through with this. Toy Chica was an exceptionally persuasive animatronic.

The animatronic in question was currently rambling to an apparent scrap pile in the corner of the room. Toy Foxy, or Mangle as dubbed by the restaurant staff, was somewhat withdrawn and reclusive thanks to traumatic experiences at the hands of daycare-aged children. The others mostly ignored her, but Chica had struck up a friendship with the disgraced animatronic and regularly went to talk to her when she wasn't busy singing and hosting birthday parties for kids. Bonnie didn't care for her that much; she was incredibly shy and rarely attempted interacting with her more celebrated compatriots, but it appeared he was going to have to on account of this ridiculous "intervention" plot Chica couldn't get out of her head.

"Bonnie," Chica said happily as he sidled up next to her. "Foxy agreed to help us with this Freddy situation. We'll finally be able to get some sleep!"

"Great," Bonnie replied without much emotion. "How do you propose we go about getting him to the intervention? He's sure as hell not going to follow us just because we said so."

Chica's grin dropped for a second as she pondered that thought. "We'll…kidnap him! Yeah! We'll kidnap him, drag him into the office and tell him to stop gaming!"

"Father Scott," Bonnie muttered.

Mangle had been watching quietly throughout this exchange, and timidly raised her hand to get their attention. "What if…I grabbed him in his room and got him to come that way? It'd be easier for me than you two since I can sneak in without him noticing."

"Yes!" Chica yelled as she pumped her fist. "See, Bonnie? This'll go by without a hitch. Soon everything will be back to normal and we can have our friend back. Aren't you excited?"

"Yay," Bonnie said unenthusiastically.

"Heck yeah you are! Let's go!"

Mangle climbed into Freddy's room, careful as not to disturb him. Even if she hadn't, it wouldn't have mattered given the latter's tendency to yell and pound his keyboard as loudly and obnoxiously as possible. Mangle thanked her lucky stars Freddy was a selfish prick as she clambered across the ceiling, only stopping when directly above his head.

"Haha! Suck it, bitch! I OWNED your fuckin' ass! You can't do shit against me, nuh uh, oh no you can't do shi-"

Mangle struck while he was distracted, wrapping herself around his face and arms and yanking him out of his chair.

"Hey! What the hell?! Who is this?! Get the fuck off me or I'll have you forcefully turned into a furry!"

Mangle gritted her teeth as she pulled him out of the room. She dragged him down the hallway and into the security office, struggling madly against his weight. At least the fat fuck was stupid.

"You got him?! Fuck yeah! Good job, Foxy!" Chica cheered as she jumped up and down in celebration. Bonnie facepalmed and shook his head. Scott help us…

"Chica? What the fuck?! Release me immediately or I'll have you turned into parts!" Freddy roared, nearly breaking free of Mangle's weakening grip.

"...Oh, right. Let him down, Foxy," said Chica. With a final burst of strength, Mangle shoved Freddy over the desk, tumbling the bear into the seat. He sat up and groaned, rubbing his sore head while glaring icily at his three capturers.

"Frederick Fazington," Chica said authoritatively. "This is an intervention. We are your friends, and we will help you through this no matter what it ta-"

"Yeah, yeah. Save it, tits," Freddy said, standing up. "You're lucky I don't have the lot of you scrapped for this. I gotta get back, the guys are counting on me."

"Freddy!" Chica yelled, trying near-desperately to hold him back. "You can't keep going like this! You haven't eaten, slept, or worked in weeks because of that stupid game and the rest of us are worried about you! Right, guys?"

Unenthusiastic murmurs of "yeah, I mean, I guess, who is this guy again?" filled the room. Chica rolled her eyes and turned back to Freddy.

"We'll help you break the cycle, but it all depends on you. Are you willing to sacrifice games for your own good and the good of those around you?"

Freddy tweaked his ear. "Uh…no. Nice pep talk, though." He shoved past her and stomped back to his room, coming to a stop once he saw the horrible sight before him.

Bonnie was holding an ax to his beloved computer screen. "If you don't get the FUCK back in there RIGHT this minute I will BREAK your fucking monitor without a single fuck given. Are we clear?!"

"You wouldn't," Freddy growled.

"Wanna bet?" Bonnie sneered, winding up to smash the screen in two.

"Okay, okay! I'll listen to your stupid intervention fuck-knows-what bullshittery. Fucking dick," Freddy grumbled as he returned to the office, none too quietly. Chica glanced at Bonnie gratefully as she followed him back.

Freddy plopped down in the chair, causing an audible creak. "Well? We're here now. What the fuck do you need from me that requires your robo-bitch to drag me here against my will."

"We need you to stop playing those fucking games!" Chica exploded. "It's your job to run this place and you haven't done jack-diddly dick lately because you're glued to that fake fucking world shooting fake fucking people in a fake fucking setting! WE ARE NOT OKAY!" She gestured to the others and herself. "We need you back, not this imaginary fucking version of you who does what he wants and doesn't give a damn about himself or anyone around him! You. Have. To. QUIT!"

Freddy was unimpressed. "Can we get this over with? I have a clan battle at 12."

"Goddammit," Chica muttered while tiredly rubbing her eyes. This was going to be a long day.