Please Don't Throw Away Plastic Bottles or Aluminum Cans

The early days were pretty awful.

First one here was Barry-Fredbear. While he was the only one from then, we often refer to him as 79 mostly as a marker for the rest of us to keep track of just how long all this has been going on. He's also the most unusual death out of all of us in that he was initially hollow, which sort of reflects his state of mind today. To be quite frank, he's often a guy who's lights are on, but rarely is anyone ever home. He seemed only able to speak extremely directly, and answer very simple questions. We actually found him by accident, while Sherry-ToyChica was experimenting on how exactly we were functioning.

Sherry found some unattended, busted endoskeletons that were dumped in the mid 80s along with some boxes of assorted costume parts. We'll get back to her research, but after an issue with replacing a busted costume piece for another one, we discovered two things; we can't share the same body, and that those rotten bits of brain matter on that Fredbear head were here before any of us. Barry doesn't quite seem aware of his situation, nor his surroundings, and we usually keep him with just enough skeleton and parts for him to get around. Only thing he seems to do is wander aimlessly around the dump, and stare at the moon when it's just starting to wax from being born anew.

As for what Sherry found in her experiments; we each seem to have a core costume piece that lets us move and think, it's often the head piece, but not always. "Dulls" as we called the unoccupied costume pieces, were kept around for when our own respective pieces would wear out. With Luke-ToyBonnie lashing out at everyone else and having been the first disassembled and reassembled, he learned that when disassembled, we're still completely aware of what's going on around us, just no ability to move or speak or feel. It's nearly a maddening form of sensory deprevation.

While Barry was here first, first one to wake up and move about was Enrique-ToyFreddy, who tried his best to try and get help from the trash men, but they simply ran when they saw a robotic teddy bear as big as a full grown man lumbering towards them, and beat him with whatever was handy to them until Enrique stopped moving, playing dead. Future contacts were a bit less violent as Enrique kept his distance, up until he managed to take one of them hostage, and started making demands to call for some form of help.

Things only escalated from there, as police showed up, and while we're much harder to stun or kill than when we were alive. Well, an armor piercing shotgun slug is still going to snap an endoskeleton in half or ruin the processor. Fortunately for Enrique, he got the former scenario and proceeded to remain laying low, resigned to his fate. Then others started showing up. It's a bit unclear as they were dropped off at different parts of the dump on different days, but they ultimately found one another and Enrique-ToyFreddy after about a week. After that, they kept clear of the trash men who were now coming to the dump packing various firearms.

Plans were made to try and return to society. They even salvaged a few coins out of some of the furniture that was tossed, to try and pay for a payphone, but it dawned on them that they had no idea where they even were. Alex-ToyFoxy came up with the idea of leaving messages for the garbage collectors to read and answer, much to the annoyance of Enrique-ToyFreddy, who was more interested in just staying put and out of sight, like the rest of the garbage. The twin ToyChica 86s, Rob and Maria, looked to Alex for guidance.

The trash men were only willing to bring some unsorted newspapers which was more than enough to work with, the four learned about what was going on in the world outside the dump. Alex would try to keep spirits up by having everyone go around playing pretend or reading stuff off of the cereal boxes they'd come across, and trying to retell the story of different movies. More arrived over the following weeks, Sherry-ToyChica among them. When we started seeing the 90s models and rejects, with a lull between 1988 and 1990.

There was some sort of generation gap, there as the newer ones to arrive were not exactly keen on following Alex. A few of them had ideas of their own of what to do in the situation, and we also had to contend with the aggressive Jamie-Foxy 91. Jamie was not about to be told what to do, and wanted to take their complaints up with the Fredbear establishment, while the rest of us tried to pen them in a part of the dump with lots of larger junk. Jamie destroyed the broken and annihilated the destroyed, and a few others joined in with Jamie in smashing and destroying things in that area, the birthplace of the Field of Aggression.

Jamie-Foxy 91 however was more interested in returning to human civilization, and vaulted over the barbed wire fence with a piece of rebar they used as a pole vault. We watched them disappear on the horizon in the dead of night, lit by the nearly full moon. We have no idea what happened, but the following day, a lot of people in uniforms we didn't recognize came and returned a Foxy that resembled the condition Jamie left in, sans an ear and disassembled into base components, completely lifeless. That's when Sherry began her experiments.

It's also when the divide amongst ourselves grew, we weren't sure how to go about continuing existence. Some were concocting plans to leave in search parties to map the area, others were planning to stow away on the trash trucks, some were content on staying at the dump, and others wanted to steal the trucks to go elsewhere. It wasn't until Pat-Freddy 92 showed up and stepped in, apparently from the hippie generation, and started pitching the ideas that would allow us to continue in harmony. A lot were rather skeptical, growing up in Reagan-era US and Pat talking what was effectively Marxism, but there were plans that'd satisfy everyone involved, so we gave it a shot.

The ones who had no idea what to do were to work with finding biological matter and using it to make compost to trade to the trash men, for a side venture they'd profit from. Some groups were assigned to map the area out around the dump to get a feel for our surroundings, and compost would be traded for atlases and road maps to try and compare the information to. Some of the ones who wanted to leave and find out what was going on, would be put in charge of keeping track of what we knew and what we could glean from the outside world. Those who wanted to up and steal the trucks were put in charge of seeing what could be repaired to any kind of functional order, such as radios, TVs, stereos, cars, you name it, and with disposed manuals the trash people were kind enough to part with. Those who still weren't satisfied were put in charge of finding the more fun things to smash, which has kept the trash men rather nervous in dealing with us on the whole, but it keeps Jamie-Foxy 91 happy at least. Hardly perfect, but it was functional.

The worst part was learning that while death may not be something we're vulnerable to, we can simply "fade" as Sherry-ToyChica discovered with Enrique-ToyFreddy, who was still riddled with bullet holes, his parts in terrible shape. His costume would get waterlogged and it was beginning to lose its color. We tried to help keep him preserved with trash bags, but it was too little too late. He kept mentioning how he felt like he was slowing down, like days were just passing faster than he could keep track of. Eventually he ended up just like Barry-Fredbear, lights on but nobody home. Sherry's become some sorta hypochondriac in response to the whole thing, always wearing a raincoat, carrying an umbrella made out of warped traffic signs, and keeps her head in a bunch of transparent plastic grocery bags.

Enough about the sadder times for us, we hear you've been having rough times as well? Why don't we meet in person, so we don't have to wear down the power on this drone you've sent?