Foxy's Handjob (not actually lewd)

	“I'm sorry, what's this about again?”
	“It's a petition, Mike, for me hand. It's high time someone finally did something about this wretched patchwork affront to basic functionality that you see before you.”
	“Hehe, no comment. So you want like, a cover for it? Didn't Freddy say that buying new suit peaces for you was like trying to give a dumpster fire a fresh set of paint?”
	“Uhg, no you blundering idiot! The other one! The hook! I'm talking about the hook! See, this is why my people are going to be replacing yours in a few years time. Sometimes it amazes me that you even learned to work that wee little TV thing you got there, let alone unlock the front door on your way in.”
	“Wow, way to make this a race thing, dick. Er, species thing, whatever. And here I thought you wanted my help. What's the deal anyway? I thought you liked being a pirate. Pirates have hooks.”
	“No, I like to act like a pirate. I'm not actually one. Pirates have boats and real swords that aren't made of plastic and they get to fight people and dig up treasure and stuff. I mostly just sing about sailing and chat up bored housewives. They don't even let me pretend to steel pizza anymore ever since I made that fat girl cry.”
	“Haha, yeah. That was- that was a fun day. But why the hook? It's not like there aren't more pressing things to worry about. Didn't you tell me yesterday how your foots about ready to fall off? You know they're just going to call it a peg leg.”
	“One thing at a time, lad. I've got enough duct-tape and super glue to keep it till at least this time next year. The hook though, the hook has been bugging me all my life. You see this?”
	 “The petition?”
	“... No. Come on Mike, what's holding the petition?”
	“Your hand?”
	“Yes, Mike. My hand. This is a highly sophisticated, incredibly advanced piece of mechanical engineering. As strong and sturdy as a bolder driving a tank, and precise and delicate as an army sniper in a field full of baby rabbits. This thing though, this blasted hook would only be useful if I were to be used as bait for some very large fish.”
	“What? That- No, never mind. Foxy, I've seen you play Whack-a-Moll, and we both know that if what you just said made any sense it wouldn't be true. Besides, you've got an eye-patch too; that's pretty stupid for a robot to have.”
	“Yeah, but I've actually got a working eye underneath. Heck, they put a little motor in there so I can flip the thing up and down at will. The stupid useless thing covering my perfectly functional eye is better designed than this idiotic hook. You know half of the holes in me suit are self made? They programed me right handed for Davy Jones' sake. Who in their right mind would knowingly make someone right-handed and then not give them a right hand? And let me tell you, I've got to use blunt plastic swords around the kiddies, but this here be sharper than a razor in a sharpener factory. It's amazing I haven't hurt anybody yet. I mean, aside form all those people I hurt in unrelated incidents.”
	“Please, for the love of god, stop trying to make analogies. That's not even a thing. What the hell is a sharpener factory? And, yes, you in general are a walking liability. The fact that you're even alive right now is proof that there is, in fact, a god, and that he does not give a singe fuck.”
	“Wow, now who's being hurtful, Mike? Look, are you gonna sign the thing or not?”
	“I dunno, I guess. Who else is on there anyway?”
	Oh, well, there Chica, and a few of the kids that came in today, and a few of their moms. Bonnie told me he'd sign it if I got some more signatures first, and Freddy told me he couldn't on the grounds that it would be a waste of company resources.”
	“Yeah, that sounds like him. Alright, here you go. Now please, get the hell out of my office.”

	It was a few days later when a company truck came to pick Foxy up and return him to the factory for his long awaited refurbishment. Everyone assumed it was just a code word for scrapping him, but to the staff's surprise, a large wooden crate was dropped off at the front door the following night with the words “Foxy” stamped on the sides, and a note which explained how he was being used as a testbed to target potential untapped demographics. After several failed attempts to move it inside, and without a crowbar to open it, Bonnie eventually got the bright idea of simply pushing it over through the door and smash it with a sledgehammer she had found out by the dumpster. With every whack and bang Foxy could be heard inside, begging for his life as he quivered in the dark, until finally the crate was destroyed, and the all new, all improved, Funtime Foxy “the transsexual, LGTB friendly animatonic”, lay before them. Now finally in the light, Foxy glanced down to inspect his new pink and curvy form, before looking back up at Bonnie and his sledgehammer. The two made eye-contact for a brief moment, as if sharing an unspoken understanding, before Bonnie gave his gender-bent coworker a knowing nod and brought his hammer down on Foxy's pink shiny head; smashing it into a million gay little peaces as Chica and Freddy cheered on from the sidelines. Mike didn't see what the big deal was, since they did finally fix his hand; but also didn't really care, since Foxy was a stupid asshole. With nothing better to do, he and the three other bots then spent the rest of the night beating Foxy's corpse with the sledgehammer.

	The end.