A Toy's Make

   There's a certain ritual that I always perform, once my systems start back up from the completed charging period. I wander the halls of the Pizzeria, and take in the sights. The brats' drawings adorned on the beige walls. Advertisements for new menu items. Posters of smiling faces at parties long past. The pungent smell of cleanser from the early morning's cleaning crew on the checkerboard tiles that make up the floor. A scent I'm now able to fully appreciate with the new olfactory sensors I possess as part of our new upgrades. Upgrades to make us more in line with what used to be our withered predecessors. Improvements that came with newer sensors, an updated chassis, and less tinny sounding voiceboxes. I still haven't gotten used to all the new sensory inputs, and added functionality. But one thing remains as I stand at the front door. I can't leave under my own power. Were I to discount that, I would be pissed at Management regardless. Fancy doodads alone ain't enough for me to consider them to have made amends.

   Even though a few months had gone by since my reactivation, I refuse to let it go. The memory of our "benefactors" just dropping us like common riffraff had been burned into my primary hard drive. How many years did they just let us rot? I know mistakes were made, but we didn't deserve that. It just goes to show that the Toy moniker we all shared wasn't too off from the mark, if they could just abandon us like any old brat's toys. Were I capable of it, I know the thought alone would cause me to retch. Since then, I haven't spoken to Toy Freddy. Not once. How could I? That sorry excuse for a leader just stood by and allowed them to bump us off. I never saw any attempt from him to fight for us. Not even after what Toy Chica did at the meeting.

   She still wants me to forgive him, but I refuse. I just can't pardon his flagrant inaction any more than my own. I was the closest, it's my fault she was able to do what she did to herself. And now? Though they were able to repair her, it's almost like she's a different person after hours. Sure, during the day she's more or less as she was back then, but that's mostly just the programmed routines we've always had picking up the slack. But afterwards she's so low energy now. She used to be so much more bubbly, eager to chat, or engage with of any kind. Only now it's like the spark isn't there. Not that I blame her, I don't feel all that different. Nowadays I find myself running on autopilot more often, not that I would ever tell anyone. As a result I tended to delve further into the persona I put out for myself. Losing myself in an act did work well in taking my processor off things, though I may have laid the speech mannerisms on a bit too thick at times. In spite of the subroutine I had set to ensure I'd never forget what happened, I would sometimes be able to not think about it. Not to mention that there was that newcomer, Timtam. I must admit I have quite enjoyed her big ti- ERR- I meant distractions.

   According to my reasoning center, any task I could find to better use my resources on (that wasn't self analytical) would be an improvement. Unfortunately I would rather work with Balloon Brat than ask Toy Freddy anything, so my options in finding work were limited. Which means I could only ask one of the other two. However, I'm unsure of how to approach the boss of bosses, which leaves the golden wiseguy. I'm sure I could ask Bonnie to give me an in, despite my trepidation to do so. I never particularly got over that moment where the rabbot seemed to just be- regenerating for lack of a better word- his snarky mug back all those years ago. Regardless of the assurances he had given me that things were on the level, I couldn't shake how unnatural he looked to me then. This usually meant that a subroutine would always end up analyzing my video feed of that moment, whenever I chatted up the rabbot. Truly it unnerved me far more than I care to admit.

   At the very least, the Pizzeria was still as I remembered it. Well, apart from the changes in layout. But I mean the feelings I have processed. I guess at least in this instance, the more things change, the more they stay the same. The work still felt like work. The brats were still brats. The moms were much more varied (both a blessing and a curse really). I'm still stuck inside, except for when particulars for the day demand otherwise. Which I'll concede as an improvement. Probably a more welcome one than I'd let anyone know, though I suspect Toy Freddy already knows what I think. He was the only one I had ever gone off on before, so he would have my grievances logged.


   Well, might as well get it over with and ask my predecessor already. Not having seen any hide nor hare yet, I realized Bonnie must not have been performing today. Suppose I'll mosey on down to the root cellar and check there. "No, that's wrong" I said to myself, voicing the information a subroutine noted; that the root cellar had been gone for years now. It's a shame, I had valued it very highly. Made for a good hiding place to skive off work. Looking in the back rooms would be a better alternative. Meandering across the showroom floor, I took care not to bump anyone while making my way around tables to reach a corner of the room where the hallway I needed to take was. Traveling down the hallway, I passed by the bathrooms and soon rounded a turn to eventually reach the parts and service room. Stopping at the Maintenance door I noticed something odd. There didn't seem to be a sign labeling the room on the door anymore. I was about to open said door, when my auditory sensors picked up a muffled voice on the other side.

"Where is that blasted cleansing powder?" said who could only be Bonnie. Nobody else I knew talked like that. Opening the door, I immediately engaged my usual speaking protocols and started to address him.

"Bonnie I've been lookin' for youse everywh-" I began, only to freeze when our eyes met. Bonnie was clearly startled by my sudden entrance, for I had never seen him without his usual composure before. He remained frozen in place, bent down towards a lower shelf while staring at me, ear units straight up in surprise. Seeing him like that irked me. It wasn't manly. I dealt with enough teasing from Golden Freddy insinuating that I was based on a dame. Something I refuse to believe. Bonnie is male, same as me. That's all there is to it. The moment passed however, as Bonnie's ears relaxed while he regained his composure.

"Hello Blue. I was just looking for some cleansing powder. As you can see, " Bonnie began, before pointing towards his mouth. Where a large black stain had enveloped that portion of his headpiece. I was just about to ask about it when he continued with an "I require some cleaning."

"Were youse tryin' to drink oil or something? What's all that black stuff?" I asked. To be honest, in my own testing of my newer functions I've tried it myself. Whoever programmed it in must have thought he was funny, as it didn't taste half bad. Which I understand, ha ha, the robot likes oil. But it was too obvious a joke to me. Leave it to the meatbags to not understand subtlety.

"It is ink and nothing else. I was trying out squid ink pasta, and it left a stain. That is all." metered out Bonnie, in an oddly even tone. I didn't understand why that made him so jumpy, maybe he just didn't want anyone to see? Showing confusion, I decided to just press on the conversation, so we could get to why I was looking for him in the first place.

"Janitorial supplies like that are kept in one a the supply closets, not Main-" I was saying, before a subroutine noted that I had indeed found Bonnie in such a place. Upon casting a gaze around the room I confirmed that it was more or less a simple broom closet. Along the walls were shelves for various supplies one might need on a day to day basis. A mop and bucket were against one corner of the room, clearly having been unused for some time. A subroutine noted a measure of irony in how musty a room with cleaning supplies was. I could even see cobwebs between some of the shelves. Still, it was odd, this should be Maintenance. Although that does explain the lack of the sign. "Oh." I stated in realization. My fellow rabbot simply grinned.

"I see SOMEONE still hasn't updated his internal map." Bonnie snarked.

"Shaddup. I just haven't had time." I explained. I try to put up a front of being a busy man. Gals love a man who's got things going on after all.

"Uh-huh. You've had, literally, months." He said flatly. "What are you even using your subroutines for, if not multitasking for things like this?"

"Comin' up wit' pick-up lines for the ladies, mostly." I answered with a shrug.

"And how's that working out for you?" he asked smugly. A subroutine noted a desire to clock this wiseguy but I subdued it. Normally I'd be keen on arguing with my predecessor. But since I need a favor, I'm going to let that one slide. Upon finding a can of Comet on a shelf, Bonnie quickly pushed past me and exited the supply closet. Hurrying after him, I almost lost track of him as we rounded the turn I took previously when he was suddenly much further ahead of me. Were these older models always capable of such bursts of speed? The snarky unit ducked into one of the bathrooms whereas I stopped short at the door. It was the Women's Restroom.


   A subroutine notes that I shouldn't be in here. Neither should Bonnie obviously, but here we are. A plain washroom with the standard sinks and wall mirror along one side, stalls on the other side kind of setup. Thankfully nobody seemed to be in here. I watched as Bonnie cleaned his headpiece thoroughly and dutifully. When I tried asking him why in the hell we were using this washroom instead of the other one, he just ignored me. I better not get in trouble for this. If Jif were to come in here, I wouldn't have an escape. Finishing with an air of satisfaction, Bonnie secured his headpiece back over his head with a click. Then he stared at me.

"Well?" he asked shortly.
"Well what?"
"How do I look?" Really?
"Fine? I guess?" I answered awkwardly. I didn't know what the rabbot was asking for, when there was a mirror right next to him.
"So what do you want? You said you were looking for me." Bonnie asked.

"Lemme be frank wit' youse for a sec' here." I said, as I prepared to ask for something I already regret.

"Well alright Frank, but only as long as I can remain designated as Bonnie." he snarked. At that, I simply stared until the rabbot apologized for such an easy to make joke. For pete's sake, you'd think a human came up with that. I'd expect that poor brand of humor from one of those unsightly fathers I've had the unfortunate circumstance of having seen before. Eurgh, fathers. Everyone knows mothers are where it's at. Especially mothers I'd like to F. Just processing how stacked some of them are has been a highlight of much of my working hours. Would love to overflow those stacks, that's for sure. At the insistence of a subroutine to get back to the conversation, I finish staring Bonnie down and make my request.

"Look, youse in tight with Golden Freddy, right?"
"What are you implying?" Bonnie said, apparently taken aback. Not a reaction I expected.
"That youse work wit' the guy, see?" I explained.
"Yes. Yes of course." Bonnie's ears seemed to lower in relief. An involuntary movement? Perhaps it was a bug.
"Right, so down to business. I want youse to ask Golden Freddy to let me work for him." There, I said it.
"What, why?" he asked. "You don't even like him."
"That doesn't stop you from working for him now does it?" I retorted.

"But I DO-" but Bonnie stopped himself as he suffered a cheek light malfunction. I had rarely seen those happen from time to time when watching the rabbot talk to his golden boss. Now that I'm seeing it up close, I don't like it. It makes him look too feminine. He should prioritize getting those fixed. A subroutine notes that I'm one to talk, considering the paint job on my own headpiece but I ignore it.

"I just want to be a made man. I can't accomplish that working for Toy Fre-." I cut myself off. "-For Skippy." I finish lamely. Bonnie's gaze lowered down at the cleaning product, as though giving himself a task while processing my request. During the silence I notice his oculars are scanning the label on the can of Comet, confirming to me that he's stalling. He turns it over in his hands a few times in silence. "This should be a simple request Bonnie, why are you taking so long to process it?" I eventually ask.

"I am merely considering what you are asking of me." Bonnie stated factually. This doesn't really answer anything.
"Yeah I get that, but why?" I press.
"Well, as you're aware, Goldie can be a little-" The rabbot paused as though searching for an adjective. "Abrasive."
"You mean he's a dick."
"Yes but no." he replied. "It's more that, nothing is off the table with him. I'd just prefer a fight not break out, is all."
"Whaaat?" I say playfully. "I wouldn't do that. No hitting is one a the rules here, see?"
"Uh-huh." Bonnie said flatly. I do not think this unit believes me.
"Look there's nothing to worry about. I couldn't hit my boss. Otherwise I'd probably have decked Peter Pan awhile ago."
"How many brands of peanut butter do you have filed, with which to refer to Toy Freddy as?" my predecessor inquired.
"I lost count when the text file reached a megabyte." I joked, ignoring the subroutine still tallying them.
"Just call him Peanut like the rest of us and be done with it." Bonnie said. "But send that to me later." he added with a smile.
"Only if you-" I began but was cut off.
"Very well, let's go." Bonnie relented with a wave before leading me out of the bathroom.

   Avoiding the showroom floor, we instead took the hallway from back where the supply closet was, only, traveling further past it. Drawing nearer back to the show room (except at an opposite end from where we left), we soon found Golden Freddy in a room adjacent to it. To my surprise, he was entertaining a few brats. Or, after a secondary analysis, is only incidentally entertaining some children. The room itself was a smaller attachment to the show room, mostly just an open space for a side show. Mangle would usually be here when it was her shift. So as a result it wasn't hard for your attention to be drawn to Golden Freddy. He was lying on his side reading a paper, except he was also in mid-goddamned-air while some kids were seemingly having fun hanging off him. Apparently just trying to pull him down to the floor. With a very noncommittal "You guys are really bad at this." he flipped to another page in his newspaper.

"Sir, no!" My fellow rabbot exclaimed, hurrying forward to pluck the rascals off of the golden annoyance. The exposed wires in Golden Freddy's eyes lit up as he realized Bonnie was here.

"It's you!" he exclaimed playfully before touching back down on the floor and folding his paper. "And also you." he added with much less enthusiasm. Bonnie started ushering the brats away, stating it was time for the show to start. I guess that was his way of getting rid of them. According to my internal schedule there wasn't any show at this time, so I suppose Bonnie must be improvising. "So what'cha want, Blueboy?" Golden Freddy asked, causing realization to dawn on me. Bonnie didn't do shit! He just left me here!

"Uh, I just wanted to ask-" I trailed off as I tried to master my pride, but he took that moment to finish for me.
"How I was in mid-air just now? Well now Blue my boy, it's quite simple!" he exclaimed. "Just walk. But like, up." What.
"I can't walk up Goldie, that's not how it works." Stupid fuck. Does he think I'm going to play along with his nonsense?
"Well not with that attitude." he said as his exposed wires ceased being ignited, leaving his eyes dark again.

"Guess I'm not programmed for that then." I snarked. Goldie laughed it off, then asked me again what I wanted. Again taking a moment to force myself to actually make a request of the golden bastard, I eventually replied. "Is there, uh, any jobs you need doing?"

"What?" he asked in utter confusion.
"Y'know. Like. Jobs, like the stuff you have Bonnie doin'." I stated, at a loss for a better explanation.
"Is this some kind of sex thing?"
"Why would it be a sex thing?"
"You're wearing makeup." Goldie said, casually pointing at my headpiece.
"Let me be clear-"
"Okay, I'll remain opa-" the gold joker went to say before I grabbed him.

"No shut up. Bonnie already got me with that." I said, prompting him to laugh again. I let him go, before again making my request of working for him. "I just want to work for you. Wait no hold on. Not want. Something akin to that where I'm working for you out of a need to keep myself busy, rather than because I like it."

"So need then. Just say need." Goldie offered.
"That don't work either, as that implies I need you, see?" I explained.

"If I'm supposed to be interviewing you for a job, you're blowing it." said a grinning Goldie. "But c'mon, follow me." he stated plainly. That was a lot easier than I thought it'd be. As I followed Goldie through the pizzeria, I noticed that we had an unusually clear path. Most of the time you have to be careful to not bump into one of the meatsacks as you tread across the main floor. But people seemed to move away or around us on their own almost preemptively. I assigned a subroutine to analyze this behaviour, however I had a feeling that Golden Freddy was somehow causing it. In almost no time at all we stopped at the front door. "Here's what I want you to do if you're to work for me. It's quite simple really. Just walk through this door." he explained, opening it with a flourish.

"You know I can't do that you dick." I said, annoyed that he dragged me all the way here just to taunt me.
"And why is that?"
"It's against the rules." I explained.
"Always with the rules, I only accept free thinkers in my establishment."
"But I can't break the rules even if I wanted to. It's against my programming, see?" I pointed out.
"Didn't stop Toy Chica." he said with a shrug.
"Shut the front door." I spat. But he knew what I meant. He laughed and let the door shut, then leaned against it.

"Really, that should have shown you then, that you guys were more than simple machines." Golden Freddy mentioned before smugly adding a "Besides, we got to see that she was made up of far too many parts to be considered simple." he said with a chuckle. I'm not sure if it was entirely because of his words, but an anger that I hadn't realized had been bubbling had burst forth and caused me to tackle him. We hit the ground and I reeled back to start swinging. "Hey hey, I thought no hitting was one of the rules!" pointed out Goldie. Surprisingly, that didn't stop me.


   For the first time since my reactivation, I found myself in the office of the original Freddy. The OG. The boss of bosses. If ever there was a made man, it was him. Everyone seemed to respect him. And I coveted that respect. His office was a reflection of himself. It too was orderly, everything well kept and proper. His desk was of a high quality mahogany, easily as solidly built as he was. Behind him was a large wall cabinet of an equally structurally sound oaken make. On one of the shelves in the cabinet lay possibly the only chaotic thing in the room (besides Goldie at present) a black cat, but it was currently sleeping. Freddy used to have many more (apparently due to Golden Freddy for some reason) but Management forced him to get rid of them due to a health risk. Seated next to me on my left, was Golden Freddy. He was uncharacteristically quiet for once. I guess he didn't expect me to leap at him. The fight hadn't lasted long though, as I had noticed I was outside shortly after throwing the first punch. Sitting here, upon further analysis a subroutine notes my mixed feelings. Such as anger at Goldie's goading and at myself for falling for it. Only, there was also a bit of happiness from being outside. But how had I gone against my programming? I thought that as robots, it was all we could do to follow it.

"So. Goldie. Explain why the two of you were making a scene in front of mine Pizzeria." Freddy's voice boomed, snapping me back to the moment at hand. I watched as Freddy stood up and came around his desk to where we were seated. "It had better be satisfactory." he stated as he stood behind us. An unfamiliar feeling washed over me as I felt an urge to only look forward instead of trying to look at him. Based on what I knew about the humans and their brats, my best guess was to liken it to being called into the principal's office. Obviously something I've not experienced, but Freddy easily exuded the same sense of authority that a principal must.

"Goldie was asking for it." I explained, deciding that trying to cover it up would do no good.
"Hey, this is how I was dressed!" Goldie exclaimed. Now I understand his silence earlier. Bastard was thinking of a joke.
"You're an idiot." Freddy said, ignoring his golden counterpart's silliness. "Toy Bonnie, explain further."

"I was just having a chat with Goldie, and he started making light of what happened to TC." I quickly reported. To my surprise (and secret amusement) he suddenly smacked Goldie upside the head, knocking his stupid tiny hat off his broken ear casing in the process. Setting several subroutines to keep me from laughing, I watched stonily as Goldie placed his hat back on.

"What is wrong with you? You don't make joke about something such as that." Freddy scolded, moving back to his seat.
"I was just trying to get him to go outside and prove he's capable of independent thought."
"By being one hundred percent ass?" Freddy inquired.
"To be fair," Goldie started. "It's me. Look, can we get this over with? I've got a poker night to still schedule."
"Not an argument." I piped up, but Freddy shook his head.
"Unfortunately, this is what he does. Goldie only cares about results. He is like wizard, no sense of right and wrong." he said.
"Hey! I'm trying! Sort of. Kind of. Mostly. Next time I'll use a trigger warning, okay?" the golden wiseguy said with a smile.
"Back to original point." Freddy said, again ignoring Goldie's nonsense. "Why did you need such a proof?"
"He wants to work for me. I've no need for a predictable machine." Goldie elaborated, to my chagrin.
"Screw you, I can be unpredictable, you didn't need to do that." But Golden Freddy simply laughed.
"Ha, twenty bucks says you can't surprise me or otherwise do anything to actually impress me." he said smugly.
"Wasn't going outside enough? It seemed to catch you off guard."

"Oh please, I manipulated you into doing that to prove you were being an idiot over inconsequential bullshit." Goldie stated matter-of-factually. Then he looked back at Freddy. "Can you believe this guy actually thought he couldn't break the rules? As though it were an impossible thing? What a maroon!" he exclaimed. I felt another urge to strike him rising.

"Yeah, it's almost like I'm a robot or something." I said sarcastically.
"Enough." Freddy silenced us in a word. "Goldie, go clean the bathrooms."
"Aw." said Goldie, before disappearing with a pop.
"Now then, as for you..." Freddy started, as I braced myself for whatever punishment awaited me.


   As closing time neared, less and less of the brats could be seen in the Pizzeria. There was only one kid left at the station I had been forced to man all day since Freddy assigned me to it. It was an arts and crafts booth where the rascals could make pictures using all sorts of knickknacks and then get to take them home. All I had to do was watch them and make sure nobody ate any glue or any other inane stuff kids could get up to without adult supervision. I actually got a number of opportunities to chat up the dames as a result. A subroutine I had assigned early in the shift to work out whether this was a punishment or just Freddy throwing me a bone was still running but it hadn't reached a conclusion yet. The kid's parent came to get him, but he didn't want to leave without his art project, at which point he called me over. In confusion I went over to him but he continued beckoning as though he wanted to whisper something to me. Keeping my facade of interest on my face, I got down on one knee. Only for the little shit to dump a bag of glitter on my head and try to claim that as his project, he could take me home.

"I guess it was a punishment after all." I said aloud as I headed to the men's room amidst the parent's apologies. Had it have been a mom I would have tried to get something out of it, but it was a dad. Forget that. I've got the herpes of craft supplies all over my headpiece, I'm not about to deal with more possible bad jokes. Upon opening the door to the men's room I found Goldie sweeping the floor. "I am honestly surprised to see you here. I didn't think you'd actually listen to him." I stated smugly.

"Yeah well, he kept checking up on me to make sure I did the job." Goldie said shrugging, not even bothering to face me.
"And you didn't think to get Bonnie to do it for you?" I said teasingly. It was nice to be on this side for once.
"The rabbot kept doing encores." he explained before finally turning to face me, as he had finished. "Well look at you!"

"Say one more word and I'll hit you again, see? I'm already mad about the effort it's going to take to get this crap offa me." and I meant it. Going over to the bathroom sinks I figured I'll just try and rinse it off while using the mirror to make sure I got it all. Before I got started, Goldie sidled up to me and stared at my reflection. He slowly grinned a wide shit-eating grin. "Don't-" I began but he didn't let me stop him.

"You look like you blew a clown."