Alrighty, here's my take on Poppy Playtime after a quick and rushed watching of playthroughs for chapter 3 and research into the lore and some of the other characters. And I have to say...Chapter 3 is waaaaay more disturbing than the previous two. Yikes.

Anyway, DogDay quickly became my favorite character, even though he supposedly dies via scarabs from The Mummy. And so, I decided to take matters into my own hands and created this "fix-it"/"good ending" version of that scene.

Also, the player is a male ex-employee, Head of Production as a matter of fact (according to fan theories, except that the player is suspected to be female instead), and the characters he'll be paired with are actual creatures that were created from the ground up, instead of human experiments. However, everyone else, like the villains and hostile toys, will remain the same.

This is also cross-posted on AO3, so feel free to head there if you'd like some more tags and the more explicit, smutty version.

Note: This contains pretty much anything from the game in terms of violence and the disturbing stuff. This also contains Rule 63, meaning DogDay and CatNap are genderbent (females instead of male). I also changed up Chapter 1 so that Andrew is younger and was a regular ex-employee who managed to escape during the Hour of Joy.

Note 2: cover image is owned by BeanOnToast on Twitter. Check them out for more of his Poppy Playtime/Smiling Critter content.

Andrew cursed as another "Smiling Critter" plush threw itself at him before he ducked and sent it scurrying away into the cover of darkness with his GrabPack's Flare Hand. He sighed and shook his head before he pushed through a door and descended a spiral staircase. Hopefully, that'd be the last he'd see of those little monsters. Andrew hated dealing with these damned, demonic cretins ever since he set foot into the Playhouse. Since receiving that VHS tape from Poppy several days ago, he hated everything he'd dealt with. This place had become decrepit since his last day almost 5 years ago, a time he wished to forget.

Andrew Parkinson started his career at Playtime Co. in 1993 when he was but a starry-eyed, optimistic 18-year-old fresh out of high school. He had an innovative mind and was ambitious, all prime attributes for a toymaker at the one and only Playtime Co. It was good money, and he loved seeing kids' smiles when presented with a new toy. Seeing them happy made him happy. For two years, everything was going well for young Andrew. He had a steady job that he loved and enjoyed…

And then it all fell apart.

The toys…the staff…his coworkers… So much death, and for what? How and why did this happen?

It was a dark time for Andrew, and it was a miracle that he was one of the only survivors who made it out alive. Of course, the entire incident was covered up, and anyone who dared to call Playtime out on it was immediately silenced. As for Andrew himself, he went into hiding, covering his tracks to ensure that Playtime Co., or whoever they were, wouldn't find him and shut him up for good. And then he received that damned letter and the VHS tape attached to it, telling him that if he wanted to find answers, he had to return to the factory. And return he did, and Andrew was regretting every second of it.

Once he reached the bottom of the stairs, Andrew opened the door and stepped inside, revealing a large, empty pool room with several run-down duck floats or whatever they were. The human didn't have the time to waste figuring out what they were and pushed onto the yellow double doors caked with blood. Everywhere he looked was a grim reminder about that day when he barely made it out alive amidst the chaos. He couldn't understand why this happened. But, from all the VHS tapes Andrew found scattered all over the factory and in Playcare, he discovered that Playtime Co. was dabbling in and tampering with the limits of science, which allowed them to create the infamous "living toys" out of orphans.

Just…what the hell was Mr. Ludwig and the other higher-ups thinking? How and why was this allowed? In that instance, Playcare was just a farm, and no orphan was ever actually adopted whenever a couple visited the factory just for that. And whatever happened to them? Were they also turned into toys? It was all too much for Andrew to fully comprehend. If anything, he just wanted to get out of this place; Poppy and her plan to save the others, whoever and wherever they were, be damned.

Andrew pushed through one of the yellow doors and entered what looked like a dungeon mockup; the mangled corpses of the tiny toys - and supposedly the children inside them - and bundles of melting candles were strewn across the cushiony floor. Hastily constructed barricades of sharpened wooden spikes and other forms of defense were littered with them as well. Andrew could only shake his head at the sad sight, swallow back the urge to lose whatever dinner he had left in his empty stomach, and press on to the other end. The cells themselves weren't any better, and some even had a pipe network running through them. Then Andrew reached the very last cell, which was still inhabited.

"You…"

Andrew's mouth fell open in shock when his eyes landed on the sorry state of what was supposed to be DogDay; whatever was left of her, that is.

The orange-and-yellow-furred canine mascot of the original Smiling Critter crew was strung up on the wall, her arms splayed to the sides and secured to the wall behind her via leather straps. Blood coated her lower half, which was missing from the waist down, and splattered the floor and wall; a leather belt was tightly wrapped around her waist to keep her insides from spilling out. Her eyes were a black void, and a pair of sizable breasts stained with blood, dirt, and grime sprouted from the mascot's chest.

"... You're Poppy's Angel…" DogDay's voice was gravelly, pained, exhausted. Defeated. Her eyeless sockets locked onto him when she raised her head, even for a brief moment. "...Come to…save us…" She groaned, her arms and legless torso shaking from the strain of talking and lifting her head. "There's… there's nothing left to save. Not here. You're in CatNap's home, Angel. Their home."

DogDay coughed and hacked, and a few drops of blood formed along the corners of her mouth. "A million pairs of eyes are on you right now. Watching, waiting, hungry. They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat you from the inside bit by little bit, to fill what feels empty inside themselves." Her head went limp, and she remained silent for a while. Andrew was worried that she had expired on the spot before she suddenly spoke again. "That…thing, that monstrous mockery of my best friend, is not CatNap. He killed her. He worships the Prototype like it's his God. And this is what he does to heretics. Those little toys follow CatNap to avoid the very same fate, and, in turn, they are fed."

"Fed…what?" Andrew asked, already dreading the answer.

"You're looking right at it," DogDay said, not looking at him as her voice distorted before returning to normal. "We…the others and I…we tried to fight it, the Prototype's control. But we were picked off and fed to those little monsters one by one. And now, I am the last of the Smiling Critters." She looked at Andrew one last time and frantically said, "Listen to me! You need to get out of this place! You need to live. You and Poppy can fix this and end the Prototype once and for all; end this…madness, the torment, the–what are you doing!?"

Andrew ignored her as he stepped into the cell and began undoing DogDay's leather bonds. Once her arms were free, the dying mascot dropped to the floor, crying out in pain. She was then grabbed by the arm and hoisted over Andrew's shoulders and GrabPack so that he wore her like a second backpack. She impulsively wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from falling off. And despite her size being almost twice that of the human, DogDay was surprisingly light for him. Andrew looked over his shoulder into her eyeless sockets and said, "I'm getting you out of here. I need all the help I can get, and I'm not leaving you here to die."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the muffled pattering of dozens of little feet reached his ears, and a horde of the little monsters poured from the walls of DogDay's cell. As DogDay screamed in terror, Andrew cursed and hobbled away to freedom. The mascot protested her impromptu rescue as Andrew carried her through the winding, padded tunnels of the Playhouse and voiced her desire to be left behind:

"You… can't save everyone, Angel. No…gah…no matter…how hard…you try… P-please…leave…me…to my fate. It's too late…for me."

"Not a chance," Andrew muttered darkly as he briefly freed his right hand to launch a flare at the horde of Mini Critters blocking his escape, scattering them back into the crevices from whence they crawled. Ugly little fuckers, he thought before continuing on his way. A few twists and turns through padded tunnels and a slide ride later, Andrew found himself at the edge of a sizable gap with an elevator on the other side. He looked down at his feet and saw a launch pad. Quickly switching to this purple hand, Andrew backed away a few paces - being mindful of the little freaks catching up behind him - and said to his passenger, "Hold on tight."

Andrew broke into a sluggish run after feeling the mascot tighten her hold on his chest and neck. Once he reached the pad, he activated the Pack's right hand, launching the human and his living cargo across the gap and onto the lift. Andrew landed awkwardly, his legs buckling as he collapsed with the added weight on his shoulders, sending DogDay rolling across the lift floor. Her pained cries caused the human to wince in sympathy and guilt for the ruined mascot. But he couldn't stop now, as the sound of hundreds, if not thousands, of the Mini Critters stampeding towards them reached Andrew's ears.

He quickly scrambled to his feet and searched for the lift controls, finding a small console with only a single button. With a bemused expression, Andrew pressed it, and the lift ascended at an agonizingly slow pace. Andrew silently willed it to move faster, ignoring DogDay's groans and the muffled pitter-patters of the Mini Critters from the other side of the walls. He didn't want to stay in this place any longer than he already had, and DogDay needed help; who knew how long she would last in that state?

Pushing the morbid thought aside, Andrew silently watched as the lift finally reached the top and crawled to a halt. Once the safety gate opened, the human walked to DogDay's prone form and carefully hoisted her over his shoulders again. He exited the lift, coming to a dead-end room with a slide as the only exit. But then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye; another cardboard cutout of the Smiling Critters. This time, it was DogDay. Instinctively, Andrew reached out and pressed the button, and a cheery, upbeat voice garbled out of the aging speaker hidden inside the cutout:

"D-DogDay says, 'Fetch!'" it chirped, almost playfully, entirely in contrast to how the mascot sounded now.

Andrew pressed the button again. "Go, go! As far as you can!" He pushed it again. "Why are you…just standing there?" The cutout's tone had switched to a somber one, and Andrew could feel the sadness in her words.

"A-Angel," DogDay croaked weakly. "What are you…what are you d-doing?"

Andrew ignored her, too invested in what this cutout had to say. It couldn't be any different than the others, right? Even so, he couldn't stop himself. "You can't be here. You can't stay."

"Angel, stop. We must leave. Now."

As Andrew reached out to press the button one time, DogDay wriggled out of his grasp, causing him to drop her, and she slapped his hand away with a large furry paw. "Don't…" she wheezed. "Don't touch it…again…please…"

Andrew gave her a quizzical look. "Why not?

"It's… You don't want to hear what comes next, Angel," she said. "Trust me. Besides, it brings back some unpleasant memories I'd rather not go through again.

"Oh," Andrew said, looking away from her guiltily. "I'm sorry. I…I didn't know."

"It's okay, Angel," the canine reassured him. "You couldn't have known."

Andrew nodded silently, staring at the cutout that showed the mascot midjump and with a more cheerful expression than the one she currently had despite the permanent smile she wore. So far, all the previous cutouts he'd encountered revealed what had happened to the other Smiling Critters, save for CraftyCorn and CatNap, with the former having not been discovered yet and the latter sounding like it had a frog stuck in its throat.

With a sigh, Andrew readjusted the GrabPack's straps and turned to DogDay. "Alright, let's get the hell out of this place. I've had enough of it already."

DogDay hummed in agreement as the human bent down and picked her up, holding her in a bridal carry. She wrapped her oversized hands around Andrew's neck and rested her forehead on his shoulder, gazing at the mangled remains of her abdomen where her legs used to be. "Yeah, you and me both, Angel."