BB Learns The Value of Larceny

Balloon Boy was sick and tired of being the butt of everybody’s jokes. Every day, day in and day out, the other Toys would give him a hard time. Nobody would ever play games with him, or take the free balloons he would offer, or even say hello back. The night guard, Jeremy, was one of the worst. He always had some harsh words to say whenever Balloon Boy showed up. Most hurtful of all, nobody even trusted him to be scary during the night shift.

The saving grace was the Withered animatronics. Balloon Boy liked them, especially Foxy. They were always open to playing games and they never had an unkind word to say to him. But even the Withered animatronics wouldn’t meet his eyes when he asked them if he was scary.

Enough was enough! Balloon Boy was going to prove to everyone that he was a scary animatronic. The scariest, even! He was going to prove that he had what it took to make Jeremy terrified.

The only problem was that he didn’t know how. Balloon Boy sat on the merry-go-round in the party room, rubbing his chin with one hand and squinting off into the distance as the chicken he was sitting on went around. The effect was somewhat ruined by the constant outbreak of smiles and giggles as he enjoyed himself. Just because he was trying to seriously reinvent himself as scary didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun, after all.

The first and most obvious idea that Balloon Boy had was that he should just pretend to be something which scared him. Unfortunately, the little robot had no idea how to pretend to be Australian, and he had no idea where he’d get that much alcohol anyways. His next fears of needles, running out of helium, and the existential dread which accompanied thoughts of his own mortality every time he saw the Withereds were all discarded as well.

Balloon Boy hopped off the ride. If he couldn’t figure something out, then the next best thing to do would be to ask someone. Luckily there was someone to talk to nearby, someone who could always be counted on to make the night guard sweat. Person in mind, Balloon Boy skipped merrily over to the prize corner and knocked on the prize box.

A dark, lanky figure rose from the box, uncurling as they went. Once they were fully out, the figure looked down at Balloon Boy with eyeless sockets through a white mask.

“Hello!” Balloon Boy said cheerfully.

“What do you seek, little one?” the Prize Puppet asked in a dull monotone.

“I’m tryna find a way to be super scary!” Balloon Boy responded. Then he held his arms out as wide as he could make them go. “Like, this much scary!”

 The Puppet stared back down at him. “Are you trying to have fun? Is this a new game to play, or is it for a birthday?”

Balloon Boy shook his head emphatically. “Nuh-uh. I wanna scare Jeremy so that everyone takes me serious.”

The Puppet paused for a moment in thought. “… Your valve, perhaps, could be used to frighten. An injection of air, but not to lighten. Rather than to inflate balloons, a dose of air in veins spells doom.”

Balloon Boy cocked his head to the side. “Like, shooting helium into Jeremy’s body is scary?”

The Puppet nodded. “That’s the idea, yes.”

“Sweet! I’ll go try it now. Thanks Puppet!” Balloon Boy waved and immediately ran away. The Puppet merely waved back, cocked a nonexistent ear to the music box as it played its merry tune, and then slowly descended back into its box. It was not yet time for them to leave.

Balloon Boy turned the corner down the hallway leading to the security office, ducked into a side room before the guard’s flashlight could investigate the clanging of his metal feet, and crawled into a vent to begin his approach. Balloon Boy giggled to himself as he crawled, unable to wait to scare Jeremy.

Unfortunately, there was something in Balloon Boy’s way. Something big, and round, and pink. Balloon Boy poked it.  And soft, too.

Toy Chica reached back and swatted at Balloon Boy. “Hey, watch it ya twerp,” she growled. “Hands off the goods.”

“Oh, hey TC,” Balloon Boy replied, not intimidated in the slightest. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Oh, you know,” said Toy Chica. “Just hanging around.”

“That’s cool,” Balloon Boy said. “I’m trying to scare Jeremy, though, so could you hang around somewhere else?” With that he started to push Toy Chica out of the way, heedless of the noise he was making or the choice words she was saying.

When Balloon Boy finally emerged out of the vent, it was to a fuming Toy Chica and a mask-wearing Jeremy. Toy Chica stomped off down the hall, muttering darkly to herself. “I would’ve gotten him this time, too, if it wasn’t…” Her words trailed off as she left, and Jeremy took his mask off before turning to face Balloon Boy.

“What do you want, little guy?”

Balloon Boy figuratively swelled with umbrage, not unlike how his balloons literally swelled with helium. “I’m not little! I’m 9-and-a-half days old!”

Jeremy waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, sure you are. What’re you doing here.”

Balloon Boy jumped up excitedly. “Oh yeah! Jeremy, open your mouth!”

Jeremy’s eyebrows drew together. “What.”

Balloon Boy didn’t answer, opting instead to shoot forward, clamber onto Jeremy’s desk, and then shove a finger into his mouth. A small latch on the animatronic’s fingertip swung open, and the valve hidden inside immediately began expelling helium.

Jeremy spit Balloon Boy’s finger out of his mouth. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the guard said, his voice a noticeably higher pitch. “What’re you doing, trying to inflate me?” Jeremy pushed Balloon Boy off the desk. “Get outta here.”

Balloon Boy huffed but did as the guard asked, wandering down the hall and plopping down outside of Parts and Service to mope. The Puppet’s idea hadn’t worked. Balloon Boy sighed. He was a failure.

A loud crash broke the small animatronic from his reverie. Balloon Boy watched as Withered Foxy sprinted through the door to Parts and Service, slammed face-first into the wall opposite the door, shook it off, and then made for the security office.

Jeremy was ready. Flashlight in hand, the guard became to flicker the light on and off as quickly as he could. Withered Foxy stopped in his tracks, mesmerized by the strobe assaulting his eyes. First his legs began to shake. Then, smoke and sparks were spat from his neck. Finally, the fox shrieked, jumped so high into the air that his head banged against the ceiling, and spun around just in time for his feet to touch the ground so as to sprint back into Parts and Service.

Balloon Boy watched this all happen morosely, head in hand. Why couldn’t he be that scary? Why couldn’t he garner a similar response from the guard? It just wasn’t fair.

A whine from Parts and Service stole Balloon Boy’s attention away from putting himself down. Withered Foxy never did take the flashlight very well. It affected him worse than anyone else, which was unfortunate since the fox’s response was always to seek revenge the moment his eyes stopped hurting. He was never quite fast enough to catch Jeremy, though. It was a real shame that flashlight was always there to stop him.

Balloon Boy froze. That was it. That was the solution to not only his problems, but also Withered Foxy’s. All he had to do was figure out how to stop the flashlight from working.

Balloon Boy ambled down the hall, poorly whistling in an attempt to seem innocent. Jeremy glanced up at him from the security tablet, deemed him unimportant, and looked back down. Balloon Boy frowned but didn’t say anything. The guard would rue his actions soon enough.

The animatronic wandered behind the desk, still whistling. A glance at the flashlight discouraged him. It was chained down to the desk and didn’t seem like it would be going anywhere anytime soon.

Just because the flashlight was chained down didn’t mean there wasn’t another way to disable it, though.

Balloon Boy slowly walked up to the flashlight, snatched it, and then shot a look at Jeremy. The guard wasn’t even paying attention, more interested in winding the music box. Balloon Boy breathed a sigh of relief before looking down at the flashlight in his hands. It was massive, and heavy, and sturdy. Thick glass covered the unnecessarily large bulb, and the switch to turn it on and off had very obviously seen some use.

And there, on the back, was a latch for the battery compartment.

Balloon Boy glanced at Jeremy, who still wasn’t paying him any mind, and then carefully opened up the battery compartment. Then he pried the batteries out, swallowed them down, and closed the latch. Deed done, the animatronic carefully put the flashlight back where he’d gotten it, started whistling again, and made for the vent.

Another crash echoed in the hall. Jeremy dropped his tablet and hastily grabbed his flashlight. He pressed the switch. Nothing. Confused, he pressed it again. Nothing. Now panicking, he pressed it repeatedly.

Withered Foxy took full advantage of the opportunity, gradually picking up speed as he ran down the hall. Jeremy was in a full-blown hysteria, fumbling with the flashlight in his hands and trying to figure out what was wrong. By chance he popped open the battery compartment, only to find it empty. His eyes shot open and he spun to face Balloon Boy.

Balloon Boy waved, a grin on his face. “Hello.”

The hatred in the guard’s eyes was replaced by fear as Withered Foxy finally reached the office. The fox wasted no time in diving at Jeremy, who flinched back and covered his face with his arms. Withered Foxy opened his jaw wide, rusted teeth gleaming sinisterly in the light.

A chime played over the loudspeakers, and Withered Foxy went limp midair. He collided with Jeremy, and the two went sprawling on the floor. Balloon Boy simply giggled and walked down the hall, heading towards his usual spot and ready for an exciting day of handing out balloons. He couldn’t wait to tell the Toys about what he’d done, either. He just knew that they’d be proud of him.

Maybe next time Jeremy would know to fear Balloon Boy.