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"No hablos espagnol!" Freddy cried.

"What the fuck are you blabbering about?" Mike asked in a sassy, slow interrogative tone. Freddy walked towards his office window and bumped his head into it, seemingly trying to establish dominance. Freddy began getting into a quarterback's stance, legs and shoulders wide apart; trying to make himself seem bigger and intimidating Mike. It did not work, for he was still the same chubby moronic pizza entertainer, no matter how American he wasn't..

WHAM

"YO SOY MAJI" shrieked Chica. Her receptors were cracking, and static mingled in between words. Mike managed to bolt to the door in time for him to slam it shut; Chica's beak being torn off by the falling metal object racing to the ground at nearly 21 miles per hour. Mike cautiously bent down to take a look out of morbid curiosity, as it jumped up at him of it's own volition, seemingly.

"YO SOY LA DIOS! YO SOY LA LOCO!" it jabbered, trying to catch Mike's pale, non-Hispanic flesh in it's death grip of pristine plastic pearlies and cold industrial metals.

The rattling beak fell to the floor and flopped around like a dying fish before in a move of pure ingenuity, Mike brought his foot down on it.

"AAIIII!" shrieked the orange beak which had been twisted by industrial boots. Mike brought his boot down on it again, this time harder.

"MON SERVIETTE!" it shrieked, blood gushing from an unknown vessel. It was a bleeding, bilingual robot beak and yet Mike was dead set on stomping it to death. Eventually he hit paydirt, and it flattened out into a orange pocket of blood.

Mike continued his shift guarding until 6 am without further incident.