META Semi-Request #4

Mike clung to his seat as Foxy lifted his feet away. The chair reluctantly dragged with him across the stained tile flooring, while  Foxy began to walk away with both of Mike's legs tucked  under his arms. They were still attached to his body, thankfully.



"Dude!" Mike yelled. No answer.


"You fucking come into my office as 'Foxy the Pirate", Mike yelled again. The chair clattered the floor with a hearty impact, knocking the wind out of Mike's lungs.

Mike continued his spiel in a lower voice as he left the room involuntarily.

"And while I have seen some pretty gross stuff in my seven day tenure of Freddy's pizza...", he trailed off, unsure of what words he should choose next.

On the verge of tears, Mike told Foxy "The fact that you touched me made me feel more repulsed than anything else."

Foxy paid no visible attention. Mike coughed as he hit a crack in the tiles, the kind of crack that you can only experience at Costco if your cart's going too fast. Foxy was now approaching the parts storage room.


"Please, go away and take your furry ERP with you," Mike pleaded in a horse voice, one broiling more with untamed anger and rage at this obvious injustice than it was with sadness. Just by virtue of existence Foxy pissed him off.

Foxy looked at Mike as he propped him up on the table. His jaw swung up and down, crackling each time with iron oxide and dust as he vocalized.

"Yeah, well your seven day tenure is up, fuckface," said Foxy.

Mike didn't know how to respond to this because he didn't consider if they could speak English. This confusion forced him to hesitate as he chose his next words.

"Fuck you", said Mike. "You're still a cold, mechanical piece of shit underneath all those layers of happiness and animal clothing. You otherkin are retarded, you're not a real fox you furry  mongoloid."

"What the fuck are you talking about we're not even otherkin you retarded fuck. Stop making shit up. We've never even gone to the office, stop making shit up Mike."

Mike once more paused, this time in serious self-reflection. He can't remember ever being in his office that night. He set the animatronics all on 0 after finding a master key to all of their inner workings in the manager's office, and he thought it would pacify them. It actually didn't.

In fact, come to think of it, he recalls eating a slice of Chuck-E Cheese in the party room earlier that evening. Chica, Freddy, and Bonnie all took a very long time to move, which was why Mike whispered to Chica "You're too slow," while sliding a party hat over her beak. It had taken until 3 am for Chica to fully turn her head.

Foxy's system was easily accessible without a key to open up his backside because of his visible endoskeleton. He spent some time turning his dial from 0 to 20, and took off at full speed,   able to slide under the table to catch Mike at 3:30 am.

"I concede", Michael Bartholomew Schmidt conceded. "But that still doesn't mean that this is morally right. You're lying to people with this shtick."

"What shtick?", Foxy asked. He had finished stuffing Mike's legs, now it was time for the codpiece. Foxy applied it, connecting to halves with a satisfying "click".

"This shtick," Mike said, visibly agitated. He pointed at the brown, fabric diaper, which was beginning to become soggy, having been drenched in blood. His finger ran down from the codpiece to his feet, which had been replaced with three-fingered paws.

"You're literally furries," Mike said. "Radical furries."

"Radical furries?", Foxy asked, somewhat skeptically.

"Yes," Mike said. "You haven't the good sense to keep it in the closet. No, you have to go and force it on everyone else and ask them to accept you as a fox or a bear or a bat; and then you bitch when people complain about being forced inside of these suits."

"We don't force it on anyone else. It just happens you go in here. It's self defense, Mike."

Foxy paused. "Y'know, You're sounding more like a fursecutor by the minute."

By now, all but Mike's arms and head were covered. "It's bullshit. You're not an animal, you're a machine."

"That's fursecution, Mike" said Foxy as he crammed Mike's arms inside of a suit. "You're a bigot."

"THFHFFHFHF", Mike gurgled. He had swallowed his own tongue, and suffocated within a minute, despite Foxy's attempted tracheotomy

However purposeful this action was, Foxy would never know. Mike's body was recovered in the morning, after Foxy reported a "botched suiting" to Freddy.

Mike's life was unimportant. He wasn't the first guard to get caught or fiddle around with the animatronics, and he wasn't the last.