Freddy Junior

Written for the Five Nights at Freddy's General Discussion Thread at /vg/.

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"Freddy, he's blocked the vent off with one of the broken monitors. I can't squeeze through," Toy Bonnie reports as he and Freddy regroup in Party Room 3. "Now what am I supposed to do?"

"These erratic new models corporate keeps sending over are just too unpredictable. They really don't make us like they used to," Freddy replies absently, taking his hat off for a moment. He runs his hand over the stained, crushed velvet fabric covering his head. The light on the camera overhead signals that we can move, so the four of us immediately drift out into the main hallway.

"Agreed, and I say that as a new model myself." Toy Bonnie picks his guitar up, meticulously inspecting it for damage. "Regardless, thoughts on our course of action?"

"Foxy?" Freddy finally asks, turning to our fourth member.

"Nope. He keeps resettin' my systems with that flashlight. I can't stay online long enough to get at 'im from the hall." Foxy kicks a nearby fountain drink cup out of frustration. "If only SOMEONE'd wake their sorry butt up an' go get them batteries outta the thing."

"Give BB a break, Foxy." I tug at my bib self-consciously. "He had a long day and a lot of balloons to hand out. He needs to recharge his own batteries before he goes after anyone else's."

Foxy hisses, folding his arms. "Youth's wasted on th' young. He should enjoy th' service time while he's got it 'fore management decides to toss him in a box."

"Alright, that's enough. Listen up, everyone." Freddy's take-charge attitude immediately kicks in, and all of us turn to him at once. I don't know what it is about being a "Freddy" that commands such respect, but I'm pretty sure all of us are hard-wired to listen to whatever he has to say when he's being authoritative. Besides, Toy Freddy's still lagging behind in the Game Room, so until he gets here, Freddy's our current leader.

"Listening, chief," Toy Bonnie says politely, slinging his guitar strap over his shoulders.

"We're clearly going about this the wrong way, so here's what I'm thinking." Freddy gestures down the hall from the blind spot. Every so often, the flashlight will flick on like it's doing riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii


"Toy Chica, you okay?" Toy Bonnie's shaking me slightly. "Did you hear the plan?"

"What plan?" I ask, swivelling my head towards him. "No, sorry. I think I, um, blanked out for a second there."

"This is why we can't ever get nothin' done," Foxy complains, jabbing his hook down the hall. "Everyone, turn your backs and don't look at th' light while we hammer out these technical inconsistencies, like."

As we all swivel around to face away from the endoskeleton's flashlight, footsteps clattering down the hall annouce the presence of a newcomer. A sleepy BB wanders into view with his prop balloon and his sign in tow.

"Hello?"

"Oh, finally," Foxy says, pumping his fist at the presence of his sidekick. Those two really have become thick as thieves. "I was beginnin' to wonder if you'd never get yer keister over here."

BB tosses his head back, laughing. "Hahaha!"

"Well, this changes matters substantially." Freddy leans down to BB's eye level; an easy task considering the support struts that used to be in his back are currently serving as Mangle's right leg. "We could certainly use your help, child."

"Sure."

"Wonderful. Toy Chica, forget our previous plan," our leader orders.

Easy enough. What's to forget when you didn't know to begin with? "Consider it forgotten, sir!" I chirp.

"Good girl. You'll go far in the company." Freddy taps the bottom of his microphone thoughtfully as he quietly formulates a new strategy. "What do you say we bend the rules tonight, just a touch?"

"Chief!" Toy Bonnie whispers in a hushed tone. "You of all people can't be serious! Don't let Toy Freddy hear you saying that!"

Freddy motions behind himself without turning as the endo blinks his flashlight like a strobe, trying to get our group to vacate the hall. Our systems won't reset as long as we're not looking directly at it, though, and it's obvious he's beginning to panic based on the not very child-friendly things he's saying right now! Heavens, I don't even KNOW most of those words!

"Just for tonight. This one seems like a special case." Freddy's eyelids lower slightly. "You know how finicky these new models can be."

"Well, I'm all ears," Foxy chips in. "Okay, I'm actually only half ears, but the other one still works."

"I'm on board as well. What do you have in mind?" I add, shifting Toy Mr. Cupcake's platter to my other free hand. "Surely you have some clever, amazing plan that'll require all of us to split off and attack from separate angles--"

"Actually, I was thinking BB could just throw his sign at his head and then we'd rush him all at once," Freddy says bluntly as he tugs at his bow tie. "Kind of unorthodox, but -- you think it'll work?"


"Holy cow, I can't believe that worked," Toy Bonnie whoops as we drag the malfunctioning endoskeleton kicking and screaming down the main hall towards the parts room. "I can't believe it!"

"You've said so like, six times," I laugh, waving to a bewildered Mangle as we pass by the party rooms.

"Let me go! I don't want to get shoved in a stupid suit!" Looking down at the wailing endo, it's amazing how realistic his emotional reel is. Certainly leaps and bounds more advanced than any of the circuits in our systems. Between his colorful (but vulgar) vocabulary and his wide array of facial expressions, he could almost pass for human. If not for the obvious tells, anyway.

"OKIKwaXcGLVvBgHWiHws?" Mangle asks, scratching his chin with Bonnie's old arm. "SggYtcKfJGMFud62VAad, 4XXixwwLUQWxzsBTQvdC?"

"Shush, darlin'," Foxy interrupts, patting her on the head. "No need to talk that way. We'll be back in just a few minutes an' then we can enjoy th' rest of our evenin'."

"You rusty pieces of shit!" the endoskeleton screams, taking a desperate swing at Freddy's microphone and batting it out of his hand, the singer's tool of choice cracks as it collides with the tile floor.

"Well that was just unconscionable," Freddy says as he grabs the endoskeleton by his costume's collar. "Can't believe you'd do that. Do you have any idea how old that microphone is? I was quite attached to it."

"R9xOyjSNniBfTlbCDdww...!!" Huffing, Mangle slumps off of the table in Party Room 2, taking care not to drag his feet through the water puddle from the leaky ceiling.

"What's got her so upset tonight?" Toy Bonnie asks as Freddy opens the door to Parts & Service. "Another hit of bad motor oil, or something else?"

Jerking around in their grasp, the endoskeleton's voice box sounds like it's starting to burn out. "Are you having a damn conversation?! I said let me go! I swear to god, I'm going to raise all kinds of shit with management tomorrow!"

Foxy pauses mid-stride, nestling his hook underneath the endo's mouth as Freddy and Toy Bonnie hoist him up onto the parts table. With a well-timed tap of his fist on the top of the robot's cranial unit, there's a wet snapping sound followed by a muffled scream as oil and other fluids gush from his ports. What a mess!

"Hiiiyy donnnggge! You bade be bide obb hyy donnge!" the endo moans, thrashing and sputtering.

"Private matters, boy," Foxy says in reply to Toy Bonnie's previous question. "No need t' concern yerself with ol' Mangle, it ain't none o' your business."

Toy Bonnie shrugs. "Fair enough, I suppose. Hey, chief, where do we keep the spare costume pieces again?"

"Not much spare left," Freddy sighs as he and I begin rummaging through a box. "I think we've got enough to piecemeal a suit for him for now, but some of it's not going to be a perfect match. Hopefully the kids won't notice if management has to send a spare Freddy out on stage with two left arms."

"Aw, I'm sure they'll be so happy to see Freddy they won't even notice," I respond pleasantly, pulling out a right leg. There's a bit of mold growing on the kneecap, but I'm sure that'll rub out. "Can you guys hold him still while we start dressing him up?"

Foxy and Toy Bonnie each grip two of the endoskeleton's limbs, yanking him taut across the maintenance table. He's still hollering and gurgling and making all kinds of awful noise, and I can tell it's beginning to wear thin on Freddy who's usually so patient about these types of things. There's a rubber and cloth casing that's not authorized on his left foot, so I discard that to make applying the suit piece easier. Ordinarily we have a fully-assembled costume that the endoskeletons can just slide into (well, usually with a little bit of effort), but since we've had such a high turnover this month we're having to use whatever we've got on this one.

"Jeremy Fitzgerald?" Toy Bonnie frowns as he looks at the endo's chest. "Why's he got one of the night shift worker's IDs?"

Shrugging, Freddy pulls it from his chest, tossing it aside for now. "I'm sure the manager can sort that out in the morning. In the meantime, let's get this one taken care of. Imagine the reaction if our missing Mr. Fitzgerald came in for his shift and one of our performers was without his costume." Glaring down at the newest member of our family, Freddy finally makes his disgust known, clearly unable to hold it in anymore. "Seriously, son, have you no shame at all? There's a lady present, for goodness' sakes."

My suspicion about his voice box looks to be true as the endoskeleton's spewing oil from his mouth. He's starting to convulse, which is a sure-fire sign of impending servo lockup.

"Half past five, chief," Toy Bonnie grunts as he and Foxy struggle to keep the new mascot down. "If you could make it quick...?"

He's right. We're running low on time, and everyone's going to have to be in their proper places before six hits. Freddy lifts the torso while I begin attaching the legs. It's a slow, arduous process, and one that I don't particularly enjoy -- not because I don't appreciate the value of hard work, but because the endoskeletons always make the worst noises the entire time. And they're so messy, too. Whoever keeps shipping them over with all of their fluid tanks overfilled needs a stern talking-to from corporate.

After about six minutes of straining, I finish snapping the right leg on. The endo howls, and if I didn't know better he almost sounds like he's really in pain. I think they're making the new animatronics TOO realistic, to be honest. I grimace a little at the sound of fasteners breaking under my fingertips -- the suit leg isn't a perfect fit, but it'll do in a pinch.

"Mr. Endoskeleton, we're only trying to help," I whisper in his audio receptor. "It'll all be over soon, and then you'll look back and realize how silly you're being!"

"You hab do sdob! Youw kiwwnng bee!" he moans.

"That's right." I pat the side of his face sweetly as Freddy finishes attaching the torso. The suit's heavy enough to keep him pinned to the table, so Foxy backs off as Freddy hands me one of the arms.

"You take the correct one, dear," he says. "The other one isn't going to attach easily, so I'm going to have to force it on, and I'm still a good bit stronger than your tiny frame even in my old age."

"Oh, shush, Freddy," I reply with a smile. Well, as much of a smile as I can manage without my beak. "You still look every bit as lively as you did when you debuted all those years ago, I'm certain."

I attach the left arm piece to the correct part of the endoskeleton's frame while Freddy forces the mismatch on. Despite the ruckus he's raising, this endo's energy reserves are beginning to fade from overexertion just like the others before him. Soon enough he'll shutdown, but I see no reason to make the experience unpleasant.

"Life here at Freddy Fazbear's isn't nearly as bad as you're making it out to be," I plead as Freddy bends the new frame's arm backwards to better fit the spare arm we're having to use for now.

"Aaaarrrgggghhhhh!!"

There's a horrible cracking noise and of course the endo starts his bellyaching anew, but the spare suit arm goes on with surprisingly little effort on Freddy's part once the frame's been reshaped. All that's left now is the head, and fortunately we still have a surplus of those.

"Toy Chica, do you care to do the honors of bringing our new friend into the world properly?" Freddy asks, handing me the final component -- a duplicate of his own face.

"Sure thing!" I accept it from him, feeling the weight strain the servos in my wrists and arms as I turn to Freddy Junior. Well, that's probably not going to be his official Fazbear Entertainment-approved name, but I don't know what else to call him and that seems like as good a title as any at the moment.

I'm out of tricks to try to calm Freddy Junior down, so I resort to using the script we employ on especially fussy toddlers. Honestly, I've seen humans in diapers that are both better behaved and less leaky than this robot...

"Not long now, sweetie. Be brave for mama, and then you can have your nap, okay?" I whisper.

Freddy Junior looks at me with horror in his lenses, crying in fear as coolant dribbles down his faceplate. I falter slightly, encountering some internal error for a fraction of a second, but it passes soon enough. I flash my eyelights at him once, twice, three times -- and then bring the mask down over his face to fully integrate him into our world.

Silence falls over the parts room as I step back to admire our handiwork, before a spray of motor oil erupts from each of Freddy Junior's eye sockets, drenching me in beet-red fluid.

"Oh, geez," Toy Bonnie chuckles. "You alright, Toy Chica?"

"I'm fine, but I'm going to need a towel," I mutter sheepishly, brushing myself off. "Looks like Freddy Junior just spit up."