A Toy's Lamentation

   Heya. I'm Musician Unit FCN-101. But everyone just calls me Toy Bonnie. I'm all 'bout one thing more than any other, and that's entertaining the kids. 'Sides that, the rest of us mechanical types have gotta answer to unit 100: The boss of bosses himself, Toy Freddy. And I always do what the boss says. There's just one thing - I don't know why. I've been thinking 'bout it fer awhile now, getting the subroutines to mull it over, that sorta thing. Only answer I can come up with is that it's my "function". Is that really all it could be? That I'm just programmed t'do the same shitty song 'n dance every single day? But if so, then why was I also setup to question it? Doesn't follow any sorta logic. Whether I'm on stage belting out sweet jams, or mingling with the rubes (sorry, "customers") and trying to mack on dames, that thought process lingers in the background.

"I'm just here spinning my gears while they all get to leave. And I'm s'posed to do it wit' a fuckin' smile."
"Now you know language like that isn't family friendly." said a jovial voice from behind. It was the bossman himself.
"Sorry Toy Freddy, I'll file it as a priority for next time." I replied. A canned, almost automated response.
"What I'm more concerned with-" he paused to wave to the last family as they left. It was the end of the day after all.
"-is my attitude, I get it boss." I finished for him bitterly.
"That kind of tone ain't no way to be, son." he responded, while I simply stared out the front window.
"Well maybe if I was allowed to go outside..." I trailed off as I watched people find their cars in the lot. Wish I could drive.
"Shucks Toy Bonnie, we've been over this." Oh great, here comes the spiel. I'm so sick of it.
"Look boss, nuthin' doin' but I don't want another lecture again." I spat with a grimace.
"Now now, there's no need to be difficult. What's wrong with trying to help?" as he asked, he placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Have you had a single independent thought since you activated?!" I snapped back, slapping his hand away as I did so. His response was only a stunned silence so I continued. "You've been tellin' me the same shi-, STUFF-" I began, my voicebox crackling despite keeping my mouths shut. He had told me to fix my language after all. "For days now! We're here for the kids! Gotta entertain the kids! Oh what fun will we have with the kids! Enough about the fu-ntiming kids!" Taking a moment to vent, I glanced elsewhere in the showroom so I wouldn't have to look at Toy Freddy. I then noticed that some of the meatsack employees were starin' so I switched back to my 'indoor' voice. "All I'm saying is, how can I take any of your lectures to heart if I have no way of knowing if you're genuinely trying to help- or just following your programmin' and managing your assets? I can't even be sure if this way of thinkin' is just me, or how I'm programmed to be. Maybe I'm just hard-coded to be some schmuck with a mid-life crisis." I finished flatly. The boss man was taken aback, hell, he seemed to actually be processing what I said. Or maybe he was just pickin' through more canned responses.

"Who's been filling your head with such vitriol?" he finally asked. I let out an electronic sigh, as I knew he wouldn't believe me.
"A-"
"Who's filling the what now?" someone questioned. Looking over Toy Freddy's shoulder, I saw another suited worker approach.
"Marvin?" Toy Freddy asked surprised, as the man removed his suit's headpiece, placing it and its tophat on a nearby table.
"Yeah, it's me. Goodman got sick an hour ago, so I took his place." the security officer said as he used a napkin to wipe his face.
"What happened? An ear casing is missing." Toy Freddy noted. I stayed silent, as something about Marv seemed off.
"Gave a kid a piggy back ride, he tried to hold onto the ears, and snapped it off."
"Did he fall?! Is he alright?" the boss exclaimed in worry. I rolled my oculars.
"I took care of him, don't worry." Marvin said with a smile. A light shock traveled up my endoskeleton's spinal column. Weird.
"Good job, Marvin. Oh, did you step in some paint?" Toy Freddy asked. Odd. Something flashed across Marv's face for just a moment.
"Oh, uh, no. It's some pizza sauce from the make-your-own pizza station. You know kids, haha-" What emotion had I seen?

   Marvin quickly grabbed a bunch of napkins and started wiping his suit's boot. I ran a diagnostic on the shock I felt earlier while I watched him clean the suit. For a minor pizza stain, he was scrubbing awfully hard. Tossing the wad in the trash, Marv left to get changed, while muttering profanities to himself. Sounded like he was calling himself stupid. Well, I guess he always was a little weird. Toy Freddy turned back towards me. Before he could start though, I walked away from him and sat back on the stage. He didn't bother to follow me. Maybe the boss was starting to process my words. He certainly seemed somber as he tromped out of the showroom floor to elsewhere in the pizzeria. After he left, I laid back and stared up at the ceiling lights. Due to a flaw in our facial recognition scanners, bright lights could forcibly trigger a reset. And I felt like I could use one.

"'Sup, Boy Blue?" a calm female voice called from close by. Its source, Toy Chica, soon plopped down lazily next to me.
"Not now, TC. I'm not in any mood to talk." I said with what I hoped amounted to electronic weariness. If there was such a thing.
"Finally dropped the gangster act? It's about time." she remarked, as she removed her beak and placed it nearby.
"I'm just exhausted, that's all." A wasted figure of speech. I'm a machine. Although, I hadn't noticed until she pointed it out.
"I hear ya. I'm all partied out myself." she stated, while unscrewing her eye casings. "Ahh, that's much better." she cooed.
"Don't patronize me. We're robots, Toy Chica. We don't tire." I said sharply, while looking away from the lights to face her.
"We recharge, same as they do." she said, sweeping her hand to point at the meatier staff members of day shift on their way out.
"I doubt it's the same as sleeping. We don't say the letter 'z' a bunch. Or have bubbles come out of our noses." I rebutted.
"We don't have noses, Blue." she responded playfully. She then put the eye casings on her beak so it would hold them like a bowl.
"Fine, but our suits' headpieces do." I replied. At that she laughed and conceded. I didn't understand her reaction though. Dames.
"So you gonna tell me what's eating you or what?" she inquired. Another electronic sigh emitted from my speaker in response.
"Let me answer your question with a question. Why do you do what you do?" Longshot, but a subroutine figured I should ask.
"What'cha mean?" she asked, her head tilted in confusion.
"Listening to Toy Freddy. Partying. Playing with the kids." I listed off, basically summing up her functions. "Why?" I asked.
"That's what we're here for, dork. We're doing the job now, 'cuz THEY can't." Wait...
"You're not referring to those inferior scrapheaps in storage, are you?" I asked with a scoff.
"Be nice! They're our heritage! We wouldn't even be here if not for them."
"She's right, you know." said a distorted voice above. To my surprise, it was Toy Foxy. She was hanging from the stage rafters.
"Toy Foxy! We didn't know you were mobile again." exclaimed Toy Chica.
"It's Mangle now, that's what everyone's calling me, righ-tkkkk- correct?" her voicebox sparked with noise as she talked.

   Ever since the vixen was broken apart the first time, Toy Foxy had been keeping to Kid's Cove. We still don't know who took her apart though. Or why they'd do it again when she was fixed. At least she's managed to put a positive spin on it. Using her new form, she's become a new attraction for the kids who she allows to take her apart and rebuild her as they like. Billing herself as The Mangle, it's actually gotten more popular than Toy Foxy's old act ever was. Silver linin', I guess.

"Why so blue, dear?" the fox asked. Her second head merely stared at me, almost as though it already knew.
"Oh he's just having a mid-life crisis." Toy Chica teased. I glared at her, but didn't correct her.
"I just don't see the point in what we do, that's all." I explained. A subroutine noted I'm repeating myself.
"You poor thing. Want to know what I tell myself each morning?" Mangle offered. Gave that dame a shrug. Dames love shrugs.
"I am a toy. I am a child's plaything." she said with a smile, while her second head nodded.
"But what if I don't want to just be an object?" I asked, causing Toy Chica to start laughing.
"Well now you know how all those women feel." she quipped.
"Oh ha ha. What about you? What do you tell yourself each morning?" The lights of her optics suddenly got brighter in response.
"I'm going to make my big sis proud!" the birdbot said as she made a fist. I shook my head in dismissal.
"I don't even know where to start with you." Those withered units are worth-
"You ought to have a chat with yours you know. Er, or is she actually your big brother instead? My scanners couldn't tell."
"Pretty sure if I try to chat with Bonnie, the rabbot would be liable to rip a guy's arm off." I said with a touch of exasperation.
"Look Blue, you should at least try. A good face-to-face couldn't hurt." I don't think she realized her poor choice of words.
"What do you think, Mangle?" I asked as I looked back up towards the ceiling. But she was gone.
"How 'bout that, the dame's up'n vanished." I remarked.
"There's the wiseguy I love to hate. Good to see you functioning normally again." Toy Chica said. I never noticed her smile before.
"Well you know me, chattin' wit dames always puts me in a good mood."

   I hopped off the stage and Toy Chica lazily waved. Then I saw that she was waving at Marvin, who was on his way out. He had finally finished removing the suit. A suit, a subroutine noted, I didn't want t'see again today. She cracked a joke saying how she liked him in yellow, only for him to reply that he's always been more of a purple guy. Then he left the pizzeria and locked the door as he was the last one out. It'd still be a few hours until the night watchman would be here. Watchin' another meatsack get to freely leave was a bit of a damper, but I tried to ignore it. I was about to head down the hallway when I saw Toy Freddy comin'. He wordlessly walked by me as though his optics hadn't even registered I was there. His logic circuits musta been runnin' a mile a minute. So I figure if the boss man's gonna ignore me, I'ma ignore him. Unless he orders me to do somethin' of course. Moving along the halls, I made my way towards Parts & Storage. Upon rounding a corner, I almost bumped right into him. The suit I didn't wanna see again. Golden Freddy.

"It's you!" exclaimed the suit. An entity that I'm sure is just a figment of corrupted memory data, as it couldn't be a robot.
"Yeah, it's me. What do youse want?" I figure I'll cut to the quick. Get this over with. But then I noticed something off.
"Wait- where did you get that top hat?" I asked. It was different than before. This one was way smaller. Tiny in comparison even.
"I just made an adjustment is all. Since some kid busted off that ear casing, I figure covering it with this would suffice."
"It looks stupid." I stated flatly. It was then I noticed that the goldbear was holding something in his left hand. A cigar.
"That's cute, you think your opinion matters." he said as he held that hand up to his left eye socket.
"Das rich, coming from you." I retorted. Then he surprised me by bringing his hand back down so he could puff on his cigar.
"How did you light that? Are those stray wires live? I don't see any sparks." I started a diagnostic on my drive integrity.
"If you don't think I'm real, what makes you think the cigar is?" he said with a chuckle. Guess he had a point.
"Fine. I've wasted enough time with you as it is. What d'ya want?" I demanded.
"Oh nothing from you, I was on my way to talk to the peanut butter bear." he answered, blowing cigar smoke in my face.
"You sure?" I asked, filtering surprise into my voice.
"Yep. Bonnie said to stop, so I'm done with you." he said, as he walked past me and around the corner. What?
"Wait!" There was a faint popping sound as I went to chase after him, but upon rounding the corner, I saw that he was gone.

   Golden Freddy was the one who originally presented me with the idea that my thought processes were not my own. That everything I thought was my identity was merely just how I was programmed to be, and so it wasn't genuine. That due to this, it was all as artificial as I was at being a person. For the past number of days he kept telling me about all the different ways I was reacting in an automated manner to differing stimuli. Making me aware of just how little real control I had over my actions. Sure, the boss man was there to try and help. But after I realized that what could apply to me could apply to any of us? I just couldn't take anything he said as genuine anymore. My reasoning center had long since concluded that the entity was a byproduct of corrupted memory data, or some other such bug. But now he's mentioned Bonnie. I could actually find out if he's real by talking to the rabbot. Problem is, that would mean talking to the rabbot.

   Reaching the Parts & Storage room, I hesitated at the door. All the older models were in there, not just Bonnie. I would have to be careful. I didn't trust 'em. One of my ears twitched in some form of apprehension. After setting a subroutine to analyze the feeling, I entered the room. The inside was incredibly dimly lit by a hardly working fluorescent fixture. I didn't bother to adjust my oculars, as I didn't plan on stepping any further inside. I simply called out the rabbot's name. There were some sounds of movement and then the light went out. At the same time, I heard Bonnie's voice.

"I'm surprised you'd show your face around here again. Or more accurately, my face." the machine stated coolly.
"I thought that maybe we could talk." I asked in a neutral tone.
"How very interesting. You're using the default settings." Bonnie seemed to have deduced my mood immediately.
"I haven't exactly always been feeling like me." I replied. I then felt the rabbot's hand on my right shoulder. It's only hand.
"I can relate you know..." it said before I felt it. Another hand, on my other shoulder. That shock from earlier happened again.
"Bonnie, where did you-" the hand that shouldn't be placed a finger to my headpiece's mouth while the rabbot shushed me.
"Science, Toy Bonnie. But that's not all that's changed."

"Wha-" the light suddenly came back on, and I could see Bonnie's new parts. The new arm was of a yellow identical to Golden Freddy's. Some sort of black substance was leaking out from the shoulder joint the arm was attached to, in addition to some holes. The rabbot must have attached the arm manually. But that's not what took the bulk of my subroutines' attention. It was Bonnie's face. There were now two thirds of a headpiece there. Also in that same shade of yellow. What's more, was at the edges, the metal seemed to soften and lose color until it approached the same consistency of the blackened pitch from its shoulder. If I wasn't possessed of greater knowledge, I'd say it looked almost as though the headpiece was repairing itself somehow. There were unknown stains running down the rabbot's mouth, as though it had tried eating something. Or maybe, forcibly ejected something from there? All of my own problems seemed to be shoved to the background as I only had one question I could process now.

   "What have you become?"