Night 4

Mike scootered his way into the office because walking is for chumps, and belly-flopped onto his chair. "Alright, Night 4! Time for another round with Mr. Yell-Into-The-Phone guy, I can't wa—"
RIIIIIIIIIIIING!
"JEEZ LOUISE, WHAT THE—!" Mike bellowed, clutching his ears as the phone did its best impression of a fire alarm. "I regret everything. I take back the wanting!"
"Yo."
"Huh? Why aren't you screaming?" Mike questioned.
"No time for screams, man. I'm in a pickle," Mike heard pounding noises in the background. "They're gonna turn me into a human sardine can."
"A sardine can?" Mike pondered. "Mmm...sardines—"
"NO, you doofus!" the voice yelled, making Mike finally snap to full attention. Mike despised anything that demanded his full attention. "I'm talking about being jammed into an animatronic suit and being force-fed springs and other stuff via mask!"
"Ah, got it. Well, it was sorta fun, mostly annoying, knowing you."
The eerie jingle of a music box filled the air, punctuated by more banging. "Hey, listen, I gotta tell you something before I get mechanized."
"If you're going to say 'I love you,' I'll—"
"You're the most clueless, annoying human being to ever—YEEEEEOWWWWCH!" A wail blasted from the phone, followed by dead silence.
Mike slumped in his chair, letting out a deep sigh. Man, losing that guy was a bummer. Alright, enough moping—time for some good ol' security work! He flicked on the camera feed and—what do you know—there was Bonnie, back in the closet.
"Hope a broomstick pokes you in the back!" Mike hollered, knowing his voice would bounce down the hallways.
"Hey, I'm trying to meditate here!" Bonnie's voice floated back.
"Eat rust!"
Suddenly, Chica's beak peeked in from the right door. Before she could make a move, Mike slammed the door shut. "Hey! Rude much?"
"Buzz off, Chica, or I'll turn you into a Thanksgiving centerpiece!" Mike threatened, flipping the camera view to see Freddy slowly inching towards the restroom.
"What's your deal with food?" Chica retorted. "I'm not even real poultry!"
"It's easier for me to improvise threats that way," Mike clarified.
"Fine, whatever. Just you wait until I get my hands on—"
"Wait, do chickens even have hands?"
"Uh... they have... hold on." Chica looked puzzled. "You know what? I need to Google that. Excuse me." As she turned to leave, she collided with Freddy, sending both animatronics spinning backward, reminding Mike of the time he convinced his sister she'd gain superpowers if she sprinted backward while wearing socks on a hardwood floor.
"Weeee're soaring, we're flyyying—" Freddy hollered, as Chica shrieked. They looked like some bizarre amusement park ride, Chica playing the role of the overly excited kid and Freddy, the reluctant carousel horse. They zoomed out of sight, and Mike snickered.
"Ha! The bear gets KO'ed by a chicken! There's probably some joke about the food chain in there!" Mike chuckled.
Bonnie murmured, "Just you wait, Security Guy. I'll be haunting your dreams soon..." Suddenly, a furry head popped into view from the left door—only to be yanked back as the door nearly crushed it. "Argh! So close!"
"You're like the LeBron James of failure!" Mike cackled.
"Unlock the door, you coward!"
"I'd say I'd consider it, but that would be lying." Mike pretended to snore.
"Let me in!"
"Nah."
"Ugh! Foxy, this guy won't let me in! Get hi—WHOA!" Bonnie was catapulted down the hallway, resembling nothing so much as a fuzzy pinball, as Foxy charged at the unyielding door and then skidded to a halt.
"Arrr! Foxy ain't no fool! Didn't crash this time, did I?"
Mike grinned. "Ah, Foxy, you misunderstand. This door is like...optical trickery. A mirage!"
"Arr, what?"
"Seriously, just run forward. You won't actually hit the door. Promise."
"Alright, but if you're trickin' me, you're goin' straight to Davy Jones' locker!" Foxy revved up his pirate energy. "Ready or not, here comes Foxyyyyyyyy—" He slammed into the door full-tilt, effectively knocking himself out. Mike erupted in laughter.
"Ha! Suck it, logic!" Mike cackled, throwing open the left door. Foxy was face-planted on the ground, looking like an animatronic yard sale nobody wanted to buy from.
"Aw, come on!" Bonnie yelled from down the hall, dramatically stomping towards the mess that was Foxy. He grabbed Foxy's foot and yanked. Nothing. Nada. Zip.
Foxy mumbled in his sleep, "Arrr... gluten-free pizza..."
"Useless furball!" Bonnie gave Foxy a swift kick, then immediately regretted it. "Ow! My pinkie toe! Why?! WHYYYY?" He then proceeded to hop away, causing minor seismic events with each bounce.
Mike chuckled as he checked the cameras. Freddy was on the move again, shuffling toward the office's right door like a robotic bear on a mission. "Hey there," Freddy called out.
"What's crackin'?" Mike replied, freezing Freddy in his tracks with the camera.
"Just daydreaming about stuffing you into a suit," Freddy mused.
"That's a hard pass from me," Mike said. "I'm already wearing one suit, don't need another."
"Don't you see the inevitability here?" Freddy taunted. "Your power is draining. And if I don't catch you, Chica will."
Mike checked his dwindling power—45% and it was only 3 AM. "Meh, I've got my eye on the battery saver mode. I'm good."
"Optimism. Cute," Freddy smirked. "You'll still be ours soon."
"I'm already spoken for, sorry," Mike quipped.
"Ew, no!" Freddy exclaimed. "I didn't...not like...never mind!"
"You're blushing, Freddy. If you had blood flow, you'd be blushing," Mike chuckled.
"I swear, you're asking for it."
"Looking forward to your Yelp review."
Their banter was interrupted as Chica came barreling down the hallway, expertly dodging Freddy. Mike had to slam the right door shut. "What did you do to Bonnie?" Chica growled.
"He had an unfortunate run-in with Foxy."
"And Foxy? What'd you do to him?"
"I did nada! That door he smashed into? Totally his own doing." Mike checked his power. Yikes, 10%. "So, can you guys maybe take a snack break? Power's looking grim here."
"Leave? After the emotional turmoil you've caused? You're hilarious!" Freddy said. "Not that we'd leave even if you hadn't, but still."
5%
4%
3%
2%
1%
0%.
The right door flung open.
Ding, it's 5 AM.
A creepy music box tune started to play. "For four nights, you tormented us, made fools out of us..." Freddy growled. "No more! Today, that ends! Today, we claim our-"
Clock chimes. "SON OF A—!" Freddy yelled, bolting back to the stage, Chica trailing behind.
"You could've killed him a monologue ago, Freddy!" Chica complained.
"Zip it!"
"I LIIIIVE!" Mike howled, springing to his feet and hopping over Foxy, who was still out cold. "I'm the champ, hear me roar!" He sped out of the office, mimicking a train. "Choo-choo, Victory Express coming through!"
"Grrr..." Freddy snarled.
Mike sprinted past the stage. "Haha, you're terrible!" he jeered at Freddy, who had returned to his spot. Bonnie was there too, still hobbling with a sore toe, and Chica had resumed her perch.
Mike burst through the exit and vaulted into his car, erupting into laughter.
"Victory tastes like...turkey. Yes, definitely turkey," Mike mused. "Is Subway open yet?"
He checked his phone.
Subway was closed.
"NOOOOOOOO—"

A/N: Yeah, kinda got lazy at the end. Starting to run out of jokes. Is this what writer's block feels like? AAAAAH!

Anyway, hope you're enjoying this cringe fanfic of mine! And if you're not, then, erm...why're you still reading?