-... . . / --. . . ...

>The door creaked open slowly at first, letting out a low groan as it parted for the animatronic patrolling outside.
>Turning around, it approached through the opening of the door to apprehend the quarantined Foxy, only to meet face first with the ground.
>Bonnie, bless her child prisoner’s soul, landed with a bit of a crunch and a dented nose.
>You weren’t sure if she really intended to help you but you couldn’t take chances.

“Mi-i-ikey? Is that y-ou-ou?”
>You mutter a swift apology and close the door behind her and return to your office with a little package.
>Ol’ Foxy died today, a veteran of the Seven Ball Pits, but he did not die in vain.
>Nay, he died a martyr, presenting you with a gift to bring to light the events of this Pizzeria, and by god you were going to make sure it was heard.
>Checking your watch you noted that you had close to 30 minutes left of your shift, the rest of the members shutting down as soon as it hit 6.
>You kept your little gift tucked away for safe keeping and whipped out one of the screw drivers you looted from the box of tools you brought for Foxy.
*Clang clang clang clang*
>You’re passing the hall way directly before your office ahead and catch a flash of the absolutely manic expression of the fat yellow fuck known as Chica.
“MOIIIIIIKEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY”
>Well she could probably tell by the way you walk that you’re quite clearly a woman’s man.
>No time to talk.
>MUSIC LOUD, AND WOMEN WARM,
>I’VE BEEN KICKED AROUND SINCE I WAS BORN

>AND NOW IT’S ALRIGHT. IT’S OKAY.
>YOU MAY LOOK THE OTHER WAY.
>AND WE MAY TRY TO UNDERSTAND
>THE NEW YORK TIME’S EFFECT ON MAN~

>Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother,
>You're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
>Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin',
>And we're stayin' alive, stayin' alive.