Toy Bonnie POV
As I head into the security office, I feel a sinking feeling of nervousness. I have no idea how this is going to play out, but if only for our welfare and the welfare of the pizzeria, it has to.
Freddy is sitting at the desk, rummaging through confidential security files. He doesn't seem to notice that I'm here.
"Freddy."
"What is it? I've got important business to attend to."
"Right," I reply. "Can you spare a minute?"
He drops the folder he's holding and looks up at me in irritation.
"I think we need to, uh, reevaluate our relationship with Chica."
He snorts. "The fuck does that mean?"
"It means we've been shitheads to her and we need to lay off. If we don't, we might end up destroying ourselves and the pizzeria."
"Ah…so since the trash is out of the picture, you're gonna white-knight her to try and get into her pants?"
Scott, this guy is infuriating.
I smooth over my ears to calm myself. "No. We're torturing her, Freddy. I'm not saying we're responsible for what happened before but it doesn't bode well for any of us when we're purposefully screwing a core member of the band."
He sifts through the files again, clearly bored. "That's not why you came."
He's more perceptive than I thought. "Actually, you're right. It isn't."
He doesn't bother responding.
"Chica and I are going to try and rebuild the Mangle."
He's staring directly into my face. "What?"
I rub my knuckles. "We're going to try and rebuild the Mangle."
He throws the table aside in an instant, coming at me faster than I can react and slamming me against the wall.
"Are you…trying…to FUCK me?!" Freddy roars, causing the building to shake.
"Put me down, you fat bastard!" I yell, trying to free myself of his iron grip.
He throws me to the side. I crash into the wall full force and slump down. He storms up, foot poised to stomp the life out of me.
"Do you not see what you're doing?!" I screech. "If you keep fucking killing everyone, there won't be a band left for you to play with! Ever think about that? Huh?! It's "Freddy and friends", not "Freddy and self!" You can't just beat the hell out of us whenever we aren't following your whims!"
He seethes for a moment, then roughly yanks me to my feet and turns away.
"Mangle was a part of the family here," I say in a softer tone. "Kids will miss her. Maybe she'll be able to help out around here once she's fixed."
Freddy turns back to me. "You'd better not expect me to help."
"No, not at all," I assure him.
"And I swear to Scott," he points a finger at me, "if I ever hear the dyke parade is coming back to town, a little beating will be the least of your problems. You got me?"
"Of course. I'll pass it along." He stomps off again…doesn't he know to do anything quietly? I pick up the table and put it back in position. I'm glad we have the okay to start rebuilding, and I'm sure Chica will be ecstatic, but there's a problem. As there always is.
How the hell do we even do that?
