Frieda's Pizza Lounge & Nightclub: The Return (Teaser)

A phone rings in a dark room, sat upon a bedside desk, riddled with prescription bottles, a pink slip, and medical bills. A hand hesitantly reaches out in the darkness and answers.


The curtains rise, a feminine silhouette appears before the spotlights. In a sequin dress, she approaches the mic.


[I may not always love you]


    "Hello? Hello hello? Well, if you're hearing this, then chances are we know about you. And after a considerable amount of time, we have concluded to reach out to you personally, for we have a proposition for you."


    A figure gets out of bed slowly, covering and rubbing their face slowly, working their way to the temples. the bedroom illuminated slightly by a mixture of moonlight and neon signs. a red light blinked on his dresser, the answering machine playing in the background;

"First and foremost, I'll try to keep it short. We know who you are, and what you had to endure in your...previous line of employment-.


[But long as there are stars above you]


     "we're well aware of the fact that times were hard back then and jobs were scarce, and some were desperate enough to do anything for cash. But to be fairly honest; your situation and story were something, rather fascinating. You were only supposed to be there for just a single week shift. You've had to have at least heard about the gossip, rumors, and reports about that godforsaken place.  And yet despite this-"

    the individual walked into the bathroom as the machine went on. A turn of the valve and the room became the equivalent of a Turkish spa; steamy, hot, and introspectively retrospective of one's place in the world. The man rested his head against the tiled wall, the hot water massaging his back like east Asian masseuse skipping out on a 'happy ending'.

"You didn't just stay there and complete the whole shift,-

The stream of water slowly came to a stop. The gentlemen stepped foot out of the tub with a thud of his foot. The fluorescent light flickered slightly, wiping the mirror to see a tired gaze peering back at him. He lowered his head gently.


[You never need to doubt it]


    "But also further endangered yourself for pitiful overtime, and another night that resulted in, well... let us just say we both know what transpired. Anyway, in any case, it is not my place to ask why you did what you did or what reason for it. What matters to me the most, was your willingness to return to a place that potentially spelled doom for whoever steps foot within its doors. And despite all this-"


    He gazed down at his right leg. A custom-built prosthetic leg, made from recycled Sherman tank parts.

"You endured heavily and survived. The will to persevere is the most basic yet highly instinctual trait mankind has, but you've somehow managed to make it look like a job profession. It made me want to learn more about you,"

Despite its complex gyroscopic weight distribution, it still occasionally sounded and felt heavy when walking. A soft sigh escaped his lips. So after some digging,


“I became more convinced that you were indeed the right person for this. This is why I am personally reaching out to you with this offer."


[I'll make you so sure about it]


    The automated machine continued to play the recording, as the lad began to dress properly. He only needed one sock, though his shoes could oddly accommodate his prosthetic protrusion, much to his surprise. As he finished buttoning up his shirt, returning to the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth. Concluding this with a gargle of mouthwash, the message went on;  "We want you back-," was all he heard before nearly choking on the gargle as a result of the information given.  He coughed into the sink, quickly running some water to splash upon himself. Slowly moving his hands away to once again be met by a gaze of exhaustion & regret.


"Now with this in mind, your thoughts must be running rampant with panic, But I'll be the one to lay the record straight; we truly want you back, And not just for the typical rent-a-cop observe & report shtick, we-" the voice paused for a moment, "We want you to become head of security here, at the new Pizza Party Lounge. Yes, this entertainment venue is located exactly where the old restaurant stood long before..."

The individual closed their eyes and sighed very hard.


[God only knows what I'd be without you]


    "But I want to assure you; that all concerning matters around the place, what happened to you, but also the anomalous issues with the performers, have been thoroughly taken care of. And I mean this with absolute professional honesty. As soon as we gained control of the entire estate, We systematically disabled and disassembled the mascots and did a full troubleshoot and debugging, and man lemme tell ya...The place had some fucked up secrets."

    He opened his closet, seeing a small and not so impressive collection of wardrobes. He took his suit jacket, modeling in-front of the slightly askew-ed and cracked mirror, trying to look as professional and possible. Straitening his tie, he walked over to the dresser table and took his trilby hat, which covered some papers; Including a pink slip and a newspaper with articles about the "Horrors of Showbiz: the dark and dreaded secrets of Fazbear entertainment", as he adjusted his hat the answering machine continued;


[Without you...]


    "But time goes on, and as it does, things do change. This means the entire area has changed, it has been bulldozed and completely re-renovated. The so-called "performers" having been disassembled, re-assessed, re-tooled, re-formatted, but more importantly; remodeled for our business venture. But this is all beside the point. What matters is that this pizza lounge is nothing like, nor does it bear no resemblance at all of the old business or its uh...ethical lapses. We are a fresh coat of fun, entertainment, and more importantly, Good time flavored paint."

[If you should ever leave me]


    The gentleman laid back gently, relaxed yet slightly tense in the back of a taxi cab, driven by an autonomous robotic driver, who'd he give occasional unsure looks at as the Ai masterfully drove and obeyed road signs and traffic lights. He'd soon turn his gaze towards the passing scenery. Various tall buildings and shops, with neon lights & Broadway placards showing various animatronic or robotic stars, from Billy Bob of the Showbiz Troupe to the downtown styling of Chuck E. Cheese. He still found himself at a loss at how far technology not only jumped, but autonomous intelligence made it possible for machines to think.



    "To start we are going to rest your fears right now. The performers are nothing like they used to be, and this i assure you. We've systematically cleaned them all up from the CPU to the Servos. Retooling their character traits into quirky personalities that not only fit their roles but also make them both approachable and to some degree, relatable with the common person. It's also key to note, that the troublesome 'Uniform Protocol' that was prevalent in every single one of their coding and programming has been flushed out and deleted since that was...well, a very deeply concerning issue for say, late-night patrons."

[Though life would still go on believe me]


    The lounge floor was densely populated with various well-dressed patrons, enjoying the finest artisan and tailor-made pizza, while waiters, both mechanical and organic were expediently delivering dishes and taking orders. Meanwhile, the mixed band on staged delighted the whole place with a wonderful musical performance, lead by an animatronic performer, dressed in rather stylish fishnet stockings, with a corset and bow tie that could make even Hugh Hefner blush. Strumming their guitar in tune with the band.


[The world could show nothing to me]


    The swinging doors to the exclusively Employee only kitchen spontaneously burst open, as a slightly risque dressed avian animatronic of the 'white meat' variety saunters out, the words "Let's have a good time" embroidered in fine gemstone upon her questionably sized apron glistened in the light, as she masterfully balanced several racks of pizza's in both of her feathered arms. Casually sliding and shimmying alongside the numerous rows of tables with guests from various walks of life being amazed and charmed by her graceful nature.

[So what good would living do me? God only knows what I'd be without you]

    The cab ride slowly reached to a stop, a wave of backhanded nostalgia overcame him. The once dilapidated district of closed up buildings and ram-shackled housing complexes; now having been long replaced with new lovelier looking residencies, well furnished and stocked storefronts. A stark contrast to the former foreboding atmosphere that once plagued his conscience.


    opening the velvet doors, he was greeted with the sight of Highly varnished wooden floors laid underneath lavish red carpeting. The walls made from finely chiseled and polished Italian marble. Above him were chandeliers, carved out of a multitude of colorful quartz crystals in the most artisan style. Mike placed his hat back on and started walking towards the main hallway, walking by a small little fountain that had a statue of a small bear shooting water out of the little flower on its top hat.  Reaching the hall section, there was a large portrait. The painting was that of an anthropomorphic chicken of feminine appeal; covering both her chest and private part with her feathered hands,  standing on a seashell whilst in front of a sunset on the ocean.


    He took a minute to see the picture. Now aside from it is a sight for sore eyes, there was something about it that made him think for a moment. The face of the chicken felt very familiar, Its eyes and beak making Michael think for a second. But then, it hit him. Soulless, blackened, dead eyes with white pin-pricked iris' staring into his very soul. He froze, his entire body stiffened with fear. The flashbacks to his old job suddenly rekindled itself, remembering a dreaded, terrifying animatronic chicken pressing itself against the window, A red-stained hand then firmly planted itself on the window with glass cracking force.  This was enough to snap Michael back into reality, stepping back a bit to rub his eyes.


    Looking back at the portrait it was still the same. It was not one of the animatronic nightmares that tormented him long ago. He shook his head and made a turn towards the left hall. Down the hallway, Michael saw just how fancy the renovating was. Fine carpeting laid upon a neatly tiled floor. A few palm trees dotted both sides of the walls, which held special lighting fixtures that shined behind a stained glass pizza slices. Further down he noticed that there were rooms within the halls, as he took a quick gander by the opened side doors to see people in lounge chairs sitting back with their drinks. The walls had some framed movie posters featuring animatronic 'actors' from various movies. He never really knew how or why they became so popular to the point of New Hollywood legend.  The past few years yielded big advancements in the field of robotics. With the discovery of alloy T&A and advancements in technology, robots were being built more and more lifelike. To the point of enhanced artificial intelligence made them almost seem human.


    This little realization filled Mike with a vague sense of unease. Even when nearing the end of this hallway, the layout felt oddly familiar. Simply looking at the decor almost flashed him back to the hallway of another place. Only it was more dark, worn down, cold and foreboding. And the smell, oh lord the smell was something far more awful than anything he could’ve imagined. It was a feeling he tried to shake off, Now was not the time for these poorly timed flashbacks. He needed to get his life back on track. And hopefully tonight, it would start here.



Within the showroom, dozens of tables; both booth-ed, circular, and long, where various patrons interacted with each other. They ranged from casual apparel to the very fashionably dressed ladies and tuxedo-clad gentlemen. The sound of Jazz and big band instruments filled the entire room as the curtain slowly opened, and the barrel of a cannon slowly protruded outwards. Before long there was a boom, followed by a shower of golden confetti to a bedazzled audience. A large, faux pirate ship, lined with jewels and various treasures was on display, as a high seas vulpine privateer kicked her legs in excitement, using her hook to raise their eye patch and wink at the audience.


[god only knows what I'd be without you]


    As the ursine Animatronic continued to sing and hum, swaying its hips gently. Before long, she was slowly joined by two other figures. They seamlessly began harmonizing with the lead songstress, also moving gently to her rhythm. Stage lights shone upon them, revealing the other two to all. One was a purple flavored feminine Leporidae; adorned in a fashionable corset with a red sequin bow-tie,  whilst her bottom half was covered in fishnets. The second was quite a fashionable fowl, whose outfit seemed to be a fusion between a cabaret dancer and a housewife. Her sultry and tempting visage enough to make a committed gentleman hot under the collar. After the show, the performers made their way to the back room, which was both their dressing room, maintenance area. They unwound a bit, loosening some of their gowns, and appearing more relaxed as one by one, they made their way to their respective ‘charging stations’, modeled after salon hairdryers.



Meanwhile, The man gazed around the vast, open dining hall. There were more tables then there used to be, The stage was larger and spacious enough for an in-house band. Everything looked…different. So why couldn’t he shake off a growing feeling of unease?


“Nothing in life truly stays the same. Everyone and everything changes with the flow of time, which is why I can honestly say this place might end up being an actual fitting job for you. Things ain’t the way it’s used to be compared to...well, you know. But deep down I know you still feel a bit, if not very, hesitant & concerned for a variety of reasons and not just the obvious ones-”


[I may not always love you]


As he continued to make his way down one of the halls, he noticed there were some extra rooms along the way, probably either for guests or potentially VIPs. Glancing around he noticed more portraits of the newly ‘feminized’ animatronic’s. Despite their changed and disarming appearance, deep down there was something that still felt ‘off’ about them. Nearing the end of the hall, he saw a light at the end. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he marched on, walking past a sign that read ‘SECURITY OBSERVATION STATION’. Stepping inside, a cool wave of wonder yet chilling nostalgia-filled him. The Security office was still compact, yet at the same time surprisingly more spacey.

“which is why I say you should try and at least give it a trial run-”


[but long as there are stars above you]


“A test shift? If you don’t like it, you can quit anytime you like. Hell, we’ll even willingly pay you whatever days you managed to stay,”

He looked at the new leather chair, trailing his hand along with it before slowly and hesitantly sitting down.

"But if you can soldier it out, and I know you are very likely too, there are a lot of benefits we can offer you, and not just a well-deserved pay rise. But other wonderful things, like health insurance and more! It is honestly the least someone like you deserves, for all you've and went through."

Adjusting himself, he took his jacket off and placed it over the chair. Glancing over the new desk he saw a plethora of new yet vintage looking monitors, a fancy looking coffee machine, a desk fan that circulated the air conditioning that was added into the office, and a rather charming looking cupcake. Underneath the desk in the corner was a special box that had two labels. One read "Personal Server", and the other "EMERGENCY GENERATOR". He noticed a note on the table that read 'open the drawer'.

[you never need to doubt it]


The charging station read 99% before flashing complete. The dome lifted itself. the closed eyes of the rabbit flash open, pink iris’s glowing brightly.


As the drawer opened, there were two items inside. One was what appeared to be a badge, and the other was an upgraded tablet. He took a moment to examine it. Crystal clear screen, which flashed to life and apparently ‘welcomed’ him to the lounge. It booted up the camera system, which showed him the new camera feed, which felt both very familiar, yet highly alien. There appeared to be an arm brace on the back, leather interlocked with steel for both a secure and safe bracing. Inhaling deeply, he affixed the new tablet to his left arm. Afterward, he reached down and grabbed the badge.


Meanwhile, a magenta-colored camera feed was focused upon the man, as he was settling in. Zooming in slightly to ascertain facial and biometric data. Gaining their name seemed to be difficult, as it attempted to ID him only to find their name ‘Redacted’, but was able to display the words “Re-hired”. Within the showroom, there was a short, intermittent series of four beeping sounds, as if a signal was being transmitted.


Running his thumb gently across the words 'Fazbear Fun Police; Security Enforcement Officer', followed by the signature hat & bow-tie, with a pizza coat-of-arms shield within the hat. Clenching it tightly, he helplessly placed it on his shirt.


[I'll make you so sure about it]


The lights outside the lounge slowly dimmed shut. Three shadowy silhouettes make their way to the stage.
A phone rings in the office. The man answers;

"You better not make me regret coming back here..."


[god only knows what I'd be without you]


there was a voice coming from the phone


“It’s good to see you back, Mr. Schmidt,” they said over the phone. He gently sighed hanging up the phone.

[ without you]


Raising his wrist to view the tablet. He found himself greeted by the sight of all three performers gazing longingly at the lounge cam.



[Without-]


 A cold dread wrapped itself around him as static filled the screen. Shaking quickly, the feed returned to see them gone. Mike quickly switched the feed to the cove; it’s curtains wide open, a sign read “Ahoy matey, It’s Me!”. He rushed out of his chair, slamming down the phone as the sound of distant yet quickly approaching footsteps could be heard. His fist made contact with the shutter button, bringing it down. but not before catching an alight shone glimpse of a pirate hook before shuttering.


[you]


There was a sudden echo of synthetic yet feminine laughter throughout the whole building, a blended sounding childishly innocent yet with a hint deviousness.


“I hate my life,” Mike said, slumping back into his chair. Back into a life he once thought he’d long forgotten.