Can you smell what The Bear is cooking?

The sounds of thunder rolled long and deep. The storm had been raging for hours now, sheets of rain pouring and winds howling. Even from his security office, Mike Schmidt could hear the windows rattle in their frames.  The restaurant was going to be flooded at this rate, he thought. Knowing his luck, he’d probably get blamed for it somehow.

The weather report that afternoon had called for showers all night. Well, this was one hell of a shower. There was only a drizzle when he left his apartment that night, but it had already been a downpour by the time he pulled into Freddy Fazbear Pizza’s parking lot. Mike’s eyes drifted from the security tablet to the corner of the room where his poor umbrella lay. Cheap thing just couldn’t stand up to the elements. Mike said a short prayer for it before returning to his job.

Freddy hadn’t even left the stage yet, uncharacteristic for him this late into the shift but a blessing all the same. Chica was busy futzing around in the kitchen like she usually was. Mike chose not to think too hard about the noises coming from there, no matter how much he wanted to. He switched cameras after he heard a chainsaw rev up. Nope, not going to think about it.

Bonnie was the closest to the office, but they were the least threatening out of the bunch at the moment. The purple rabbit was huddled in the closet near the office, shaking and flinching at every sound the storm made. Poor thing. Mike almost fell sorry for robot, were it not for the whole murder thing. Foxy, in contrast, had built a makeshift ship out of cardboard pizza boxes and chairs from the dining hall. He was busy giggling and yelling orders to imaginary crewmembers. At least someone was enjoying the weather.

Mike leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, letting the hum of electricity and the steady tempo of rain wash over him. He was already over two-thirds of the way into his shift and he hadn’t even needed to close the doors yet. At this rate he could just shut both of them and relax the last hour of his shift.

The guard’s eyes cracked open as he lazily tapped through the cameras the check on everyone. Everything was the exact same as it was the last dozen times he’d checked. Mike figured it wasn’t good to get too comfy, but this had been the least eventful shift he’d ever had. One animatronic wasn’t moving, one was too scared to do anything, one was busy doing… something, and the last one was wrapped up in his own imagination.

Disaster struck, quite literally, at that moment. Mike had been idly staring at Freddy on the stage when a flash of light lit up the room. At the same time, the roar of thunder shook the walls, no longer as distant as it had been. Simultaneously, the lights in the office went out and the tablet turned off. At once, Mike shot up straight in his chair. His heart pounded. His mind raced. Had the lightning made the power go out?

Footsteps, heavy and deliberate, came from down the hall. Mike panicked and blindly flung his hands at the door button to his left. It was futile. The doors refused to come down without any power. The footsteps drew nearer and nearer. The back of Mike’s neck grew damp with sweat. When Freddy’s face appeared around the frame of the door, eyes flickering and the beginnings of a song playing, Mike had an idea.

“Wait!” he shouted, both arms rising to cover his face. “Hold on! I had enough power, this isn’t my fault!”

Freddy tilted his head and contemplated this, pausing his music. Emboldened by this, Mike continued speaking. “That’s right, I had more than enough power to last the rest of the night. It was the lightning! It must’ve taken the power out.”

Mike held his breather for the long moments it took for Freddy to come to a decision. The bear, which had been as still as a statue, exploded into life when it jumped into the office and grabbed Mike’s arm in one smooth motion. Mike screamed.

“Quit your yelling, son,” Freddy said. Mike, shocked, obeyed him.

“Now listen, these are special circumstances so you get one extra chance. Come with me.”

Mike, wide-eyed, could only muster up one response to that.

“I had no idea you guys could talk…”



Mike was still wide-eyed thirty minutes later, but now for a completely different reason. Right before his very eyes, the party room had been transformed. The tables had all been pushed to the side and the chairs were now all lined up in rows facing the stage. Chica and Bonnie were sitting together in the front row munching on some breadsticks.

While most of the other chairs were empty, there was still an “audience” present. A few spare endoskeletons were propped up in several seats. A few more had cardboard cutouts of human shapes made from spare pizza boxes and what appeared to be children made from paper plates and construction paper. Mike could even see an empty yellow Freddy suit in the back row.

Foxy hopped down from the stage and wiped some imaginary sweat from his forehead. “All fi-fi-finished,” he said, tossing some rolls of duct tape off to the side.

The fox looked to Mike, who was busy staring at the collection of blow-up dolls grouped together in the second row. Foxy followed his gaze and whistled. “Mighty im-impressive collection, ey lad? We g-got ‘em from the manager’s office.”

Mike privately agreed. The sheer variety alone was striking.

Foxy gave Mike a hard thump on the back and went to join Chica and Bonnie in the front row. He sat down hard in a seat, startling Chica. The chicken squawked indignantly, then squawked again when he speared some breadsticks on his hook and ate them. Mike gathered up his courage and hopped onto the stage.

A magnificent ring had been constructed out of various supplies from the back room. Ropes stretched around the outside of it, connecting to the four corner posts. Really, Mike had no idea how Foxy had built something like that so quickly.

Freddy was waiting next to the ring, large foot tapping impatiently. For some reason, he had on spandex pants with a pizza motif. “Are you ready yet?”

Mike gulped and nodded his head. “Yeah, I guess. What’s going to happen now?”

Freddy shot him an annoyed look. “What are ya, stupid? We’re gonna be wrestling.”

Mike choked on his spit. “We’re what!?”

“Wrestling,” Freddy said. “Y’know, fighting, tussling, grappling. Do ya smell what I’m cooking?”

“I, um, I don’t…”

Freddy rolled his eyes. “Whatever kid, just put the spandex on and hop into the ring.”

One quick change later and the two were standing across from each other. Mike glanced down at his bare torso and far-too-tight pants, feeling self-conscious. Freddy stepped forward to the middle of the ring, microphone in hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my… opponent,” the word was said with as much disgust and contempt as was mechanically possible and accompanied by a sweeping gesture towards Mike, “believes that he can beat me in a match!”

The audience booed and jeered at Mike. Foxy was waving around a sign that he had scrounged up from somewhere.

“What he doesn’t know, is that he’s going up against the two-time Interpizzeria Champion!” The “crowd” cheered at this. Freddy waited for them to settle down before continuing. “Look at my opponent. He’s as pale as pizza dough and twice as soft!”

Mike tried his best to cover up his body.

“But me,” Freddy continued, “I’m the real deal! 7 feet of mean metal! 400 pounds of pulverizing power! I’m the Kingpin of kid’s playtime, the Czar of ‘Za!” Each exclamation was accompanied by a new pose. “And tonight, Mike Schmidt, you’re gonna go one-on-one with The Great One! We’re all gonna know who the better wrestler is after tonight, but spoiler alert…”

Freddy whipped his head around to face Mike, eyes dark, pupils mere pinpricks of light. Mike swallowed, throat suddenly very dry.

“… It’s me.”

Freddy tossed his microphone to the side and beckoned Mike to join him in the ring’s center.  Mike stepped forward on shaky legs. His spandex pants rode up into his crotch, and he heard Chica and Bonnie whistle from the audience.

‘Don’t worry, Mike,’ he thought to himself. ‘Wrestling’s not real. Everyone knows that. Besides, it’s almost time for my shift to be over. All I’ve got to do is kill time until then.’ Mind made up and plan in place, Mike pushed his chest out in a show of confidence and walked right up to Freddy until their chests were touching. He glared up at the animatronic bear that towered over him.

In the audience, Foxy grabbed a small hammer and hit his hook with it, ringing it. Mike heard the sound of the bell, and suddenly he went from looking up at Freddy to looking up at the ceiling.

Confusion washed over Mike. What had happened? He tried to stand up, but his legs couldn’t hold his weight and collapsed underneath him. His ears rang, almost loud enough to drown out the cheers from the other animatronics. Mike rolled over onto his back.

A look around the ring told Mike where Freddy was. The bear had climbed onto the top rope and had his arms raised in triumph. As he watched, Freddy ceased his grandstanding and turned around to face his grounded opponent. A grin pulled at his felt lips.

The animatronic hopped off the ropes and landed with a thud, the vibrations shaking Mike from across the ring. Freddy leaned back as far as he could into the ropes until they were taut. Then, he used the momentum of them snapping back into place to fling himself forward. The bear flew across the ring to Mike, raised one brown arm, and dropped the back of his elbow right into Mike’s sternum.

All of the air in Mike’s lungs left in one explosive breath. He wheezed, trying to suck in as much air as he could. Freddy stood back up to his full and imposing height. He ran back to the ropes, ready to do another pass and finish Mike off for good.

The power came back on at that moment. At the same time, a chime sounded accompanied by the sounds of children cheering. Mike shift was over.

Freddy skidded between the ropes and landed with a crash outside of the ring. Chica and Bonnie stiffly got up from their chairs and marched up to the stage, taking their usual spots. Freddy did the same, joints clicking loudly from his fall. The three stood completely still, their programming having taken over. Like statues, they waited for the day to begin.

Mike crawled over to the ropes and pulled himself up. He leaned against the ropes, taking deep breaths to collect himself. Shakily, he raised an arm up in victory.

“I… I won. I’m the champion…”

Foxy clapped.