New Management: Training Day

Mike looked over the stretchy blue track-suit thing that Faulten had handed to him.

“And this is…?” He asked.

“Your training suit.” She replied, her tone subtly implying he was an idiot for asking. “It’s made from the same reactive fibers that are inlaid in the G-System armor, though of course the enhancements are at a greatly reduced capacity.  The more you train while wearing it, the better your body will become accustomed to prolonged use of the G-system. We can’t afford to have you crash after every encounter.”

Mike just adored the implication that he was going to be in life-or-death skirmishes with demon soldiers on such a frequent basis. Still, they said he would get a pay raise so… Meh.


“And what am I supposed to be training for today anyway? You just called and told me to come to the gym.”

About three days after the “event” Mike had been notified to come to your usual gym to begin special training for his new ‘side-job’. And of COURSE the company gym had some secret back room specially made for this secret hero business.

“An area you’re particularly deficient in, hand to hand combat.” She said.

“What? I thought I did pretty well with that last time.”

“You were able to fight adequately, but you were relying on sheer physical power and the raw instinct boost from the g-system. Now that they know about Kamen Rider Guard, they’re going to ramp up their offensives sharply. You need to know how to fight, in and out of the suit. Which is why we’ve created a specialized trainer for you.”

“Created? As in-“

“Yes. We’ve created robots for purposes outside of entertainment, though of course, they retain all Fazbear Entertainment Inc branding and licensing.”

“Even in clandestine corporate experiments, you gotta keep the brand name strong, right?” Said mike, drenching his sentence with sarcasm. She said nothing in response, instead speaking into her phone, telling someone to “bring it in.”

“It” was some huge pod being wheeled in on a dolly. It reminded Mike slightly of the travel-pods Bonnie and her crew had been in while they were being shipped to the big press event. This one was more cylindrical, and red. And it had these things jutting out from the sides making it look like one of those posts in a wrestling ring. What where those called? Turnbuckles? It looked like a turnbuckle is the point.

“I’ll leave you to get prepared. Once you’re suited up, just press the activation button on the front of the charge-pod. Your trainer will take care of the rest. Have a good day mister Schmidt.”

And like that she was out.

Mike awkwardly got dressed into the training suit, and immediately felt that familiar thrill through his body. It was definitely reduced, but he still felt a lot more energized than he did a second ago.

Done admiring how the suit hid how scrawny he actually was, he walked over and pressed the button, eager to see just what the hell they decided to make this thing. The pod opened with the requisite dramatic release of steam, which Mike had to fan away to get a good look at the occupant.

It was…a Bonnie? No, no, it resembled her, but it was pretty different. Slim, like, really slim. Its limbs were cartoonishly noodly. It appeared to be female with the sort of exercise clothes it wore and the eyelashes on its closed lids.

Suddenly, the eyes opened up, followed by a little 8-bit tune playing from some internal speaker. Mike swore it was familiar but he didn’t know where. [ https://youtu.be/rZxqCqNROOI ]

It stood up from the charge-pod and scanned the room briefly before zeroing-in on Mike. Her bright eyed expression belied a very positive attitude. Her ears twitched as she smiled and waved, the hand being waved encased in a bright green boxing glove.

“Hi! I’m Bun-Unit SN-4X, designation, Punchy!” She said, cheerily. Definitely less shy than Mike’s rabbit.

“Uh hi, I’m Mike, uh, Mke Schmidt.”

She nodded excitedly. “Yup! I’ve got your employee sheet already downloaded, as well as my function parameters, so we can skip the chit-chat, lemme get a quick scan of ya Mike!”

And before you could give any response, her eyes switched to display a green grid-structure, which began to be projected over your body, after a few seconds, she switched her eyes back and nodded to herself, eyes closed.

“Hm. Just as I thought, lacking in muscle mass, completely out of shape, whoo boy you haven’t eaten much but instant noodles and pizza have you?”

“Hey, I’m used to eating on a budget of like, ten dollars on a GOOD week. It’s hard to transition fro habits like that on short notice.”

She shrugged, conceding his point. “Alright, still, we need to get you in fighting shape string-bean! Can’t save the world with arms like those!”

‘Look who’s talking.’ Thought Mike.

“First order is combat training! After that I can start prepping a work-out plan for you!” She marched up and thrust out her chest. “Step one, rookie! See if you can land a punch on me!”

Mike gave her a bemusedly confused look. Seriously? She was built like a doll made of pipe-cleaners and she wanted him to let her have it?

“Alright,” Said mike, raising his fist. “Don’t blame me if it goes bad though.” He felt his muscles tense, and he forced his arm to hold back its strength as much as possible. As naive as this robo-trainer was he didn’t want to hurt her too badly.

Fortunately, she wouldn’t be hurt at all. Unfortunately, that was because she smacked his fist away with one hand in the blink of an eye, and then sent a punch into his gut that knocked him back a few feet and flat on his back.

She leaned over him, still wearing that sunny expression. “Too slow string-bean!” She gave him a smug little grin. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you though.”

Mike groaned as his stomach stopped vibrating. “Thanks…”

It was like that for what felt like hours. She kept pressuring him to land a hit on her, and consistently deflected, dodged and countered every blow coming her way. The worst part was how overbearingly positive she was about it. She constantly encouraged him, tossing out helpful little tips as she turned his guts into jelly.  Eventually though, her constant coaching paid off and Mike was able to sidestep an incoming strike and land one on her chest.

Of course it only knocked HER back a couple of inches, and clearly felt like nothing more than a light shove to her. Still, she seemed extremely proud.

“Good job string-bean! We might get you in fighting shape yet! Alright, take five, hydrate, get your breath back. We’ll get back to fist-fighting next session. Our next job for today? Running!”

Mike strained to keep his lungs from seceding from his chest and forming their own nation as he pondered this update. “We’re not DONE YET?!”

“It’s only been forty five minutes Mike, we’ve got the whole day! It’s my job to make you as fit as possible as -soon- as possible!” She fished in her charging pod for a second and pulled out a cold water bottle from some side compartment. “Here! You’re gonna need it!” She said handing it to him.

Mike groaned as he twisted off the top. “And what’s next after that? Weight lifting?”

“Oooh! I was gonna say rope climbing but that sounds even better! You’re really getting into the spirit string-bean!”

“Are you going to stop calling me that any time soon?”

“Probably not!”

Mike sighed and chugged half the bottle in one go. “Alright.” If this was what it cost to keep Bonnie, and by extension everything good in this world, safe, so be it. But next time he was getting some damn orange wedges.

Suddenly he was gripped tight by her noodle arms as she lifted him up and out of the room. “Break time’s over String-Bean! Gotta keep moving! Heck’s not gonna let up and neither am I!”

Mike prayed silently for help surviving this day.