A.I. Hijinks

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria was even more hectic than it usually was. The drunk adults being rowdy and the children running rampant was to be expected, but the same couldn’t be said for the animatronics. Two workers, one male and one female, had just gone on their lunch breaks. Slices of lukewarm, greasy, limp cardboard in hand, they watched the proceedings with interest.

“So,” started the male teenager, “why are the performers acting all funky again?”

His coworker, a couple of years older than him, leaned back and stretched. Suddenly, his attention was drawn from the animatronics. The blonde noticed it but only rolled her eyes and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her eye before answering. “The night guard messed with the AI during his shift last night.”

“Tampering with company property, huh? Well, it was good knowing him.”

“Yeah,” agreed his coworker, “there’s no way he gonna be able to wriggle out of this one.”

The duo watched in silence after that, forcing themselves to eat their pizza and washing it down with room temperature soda that had long since gone flat. Really, this was more excitement than the place had gotten in a long time. When they had both finished, the male employee made his move.

“So… I got some movies from Blockbuster. You want to come by my place after work and watch ‘em?”

He received an eye roll in response. “Ugh, in your dreams Mark.”

Across the room from them, Bonnie was sitting down in the middle of a circle of children. They watched, giggling, as the purple animatronic lazily strummed the same chords over and overs, interrupting itself periodically to impart some words of “wisdom”.

The rabbit’s speakers spluttered to life. “Y’know… Sleeping sucks. It should, like,” A cough, which didn’t make much sense because Bonnie was a robot, “roll over. Like, if you get sixteen hours of sleep, you should be good for two days.” The animatronic leaned back triumphant, as though it had actually said something profound rather than stupid. The children politely clapped.

“Man, I’m hungry. Where’s Chica? I need some ‘za.” Bonnie slowly got up and trudged towards the kitchen.

Speaking of Chica, and coincidentally enough, the kitchen, the chicken animatronic was causing her own brand of pandemonium. Metal pans were clanging in the kitchen, yellow hands a blur as Chica attempted to shove poorly made pizza dough into an oven. Most of the employees were huddled together in a corner smoking, but one brave and stupid soul was trying to stop her.

“Dammit you bucket of bolts, stop!” he shouted, arm outstretched. “The ovens aren’t even meant to be used, they’re just for show! All the pizza’s microwaved!”

Chica ignored him however, unwavering in her determination to make some food. It was at that moment that Bonnie arrived, and the two animatronics, one full of manic energy and the other anything but, continued making a complete and utter mess of the kitchen.

One of the smoking cooks called out to the lone man trying to bring order to the madness. “Hey Jerry,” he said. “Why don’t you go ahead and head home? We’re obviously not going to be getting any work done today because of these guys,” A thumb gestured towards the yellow and purple offenders in question. “I’ll cover for you if management says anything.”

Jerry grumbled but relented, tossing his sweat-stained apron aside. He pushed through the double doors of the kitchen and walked across the party room to the opposite hall, heading straight for his locker in the break room. Unfortunately, he only got halfway down the hall when a red blur bowled him over. Some nearby mothers shot him dirty glares and herded their children away when he made his displeasure known.

Foxy, meanwhile, completely ignored the hapless victim of his hit-and-run. His sprint towards the security office continued. Upon reaching the open doors, he leaned his torso in and screeched into the dark and empty room. Spinning on his heels, wearing the groove in the floor even further down, he ran back to the Cove, narrowly avoiding trampling the man he had knocked over moments before.

The final of the performers who weren’t in any shape to perform was Freddy. The face of family fun stood completely still on stage. He held a pose as though he had just finished singing a song for his audience, smiling at nothing. Dark, oily drool leaked from one corner of his mouth. Freddy blinked, eyes out of sync. Behind him were several technicians, who could only scratch their heads as they tried to figure out how to fix him.

A loud clatter followed by twin shrieks came from the kitchen. Two cooks came running out, shouting for the manager. Foxy slipped rounding the corner into his Cove, crashing into and splintering his “Out Of Order” sign. A young girl wearing a party hat cried in her seat. Her father tried to console her while the angry mother ranted at a new hire.

“Yep,” Mark said, now by himself at the table. “That night guard’s gonna be in a world of trouble.”

Freddy laughed.