A Sugary Delight

    "Uh, hello, hello? Hey, I just wanted to give you a heads up. You remember that goofy googly-eyed cupcake character that was on your desk? Well, Management decided as part of their overhaul on the characters to also overhaul that one. Yeah, I don't really see why, since nobody's allowed in your office anyways, it's not like anyone would see it. Maybe they're just being thorough, who knows? Now, you shouldn't have to worry much about the new animatronic. It should remain in standby as it ventilates the heat it built up over the day through its candle. Oh, speaking of the candle, you're going to want to keep an eye on that. A bit of a fire hazard, but sometimes the wick ignites. It's no big deal, just blow it out. You'll want to make sure not to let the candle burn out, or the animatronic will activate to get a replacement. I would guess that wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not sure it has any proper night programming yet, so it's probably best you don't let that happen. In any case, that's all I wanted to tell you, have a good night!"

    And so ends another phone call for the night. Another warning, another damned abomination to add to the clusterfuck. At least, that's how the guard reacted. Taking a moment to check the cameras, the guard then gave the little cupcake droid a once over. Though closed, it had rather large oculars, reminiscent of cartoons he'd seen. Despite its mouth also being closed, he could see two pointed fangs, with what looked like frosting on their tips. He gulped a little when he noticed them, even though they were so tiny that they might not even be able to break his skin. It also seemed to be wearing a skirt made of a ridged cupcake holder, which was rather quaint. If the guard was being honest, he'd say it was all rather wholesome. Well, if he wasn't certain that like all else, this muffinbot would surely kill him if given the chance.

    Picking up the robot, he looked at it from behind. Only to notice an engraving on the back. An identification tag of sorts: Serial no. SX-209, with a designation of Carla. As he mused at how Management seemed to love their alliteration, the candle's wick suddenly ignited. With a start, he dropped the confectionery drone and it bounced under his desk. Swearing, he checked the cameras really quick, then bent down and reached around for the little aggravation. He soon found himself pulling back sharply, as he accidentally burned himself on the flame. Using the tablet screen as a light, he soon found the robot and grabbed it. Then he blew out the candle. Unfortunately, it already seemed about a third of the way down. He placed Carla back on the desk, and then pulled the tablet back up. All of his charges were no longer in their places. It was going to be a long night for sure.

    Before the guard had realized it, a few frantic hours had gone by. The animatronics had really stepped up their game, and were keeping him on his toes. He had to constantly check everything. Lights, cameras, and he always had to be ready to take action to keep them out. He was drenched in his own sweat with how fast he was working, as he stayed standing so he could run to either door controls at will. With how busy he was, it was understandable that he was forgetting something. Something important. He could feel a nagging thought about it in the back of his mind somewhere, but he was too busy keeping several murderous automatons at bay. So of course, it wasn't until a weight had landed on his shoulder and he felt two very sharp pinpricks in his neck that he noticed. He then found himself going limp. The tablet dropped to the floor with an echoing clatter, and he fell backwards. Things seemed to move in slow motion for him as he fell, giving him time to note that both of the chickenbots had walked in the room before he landed hard on his back.

    The fall knocked the wind out him and made him see stars. He was only dimly aware that he was being picked up by his arms and legs to be carried by the Chicas. Making an attempt to struggle was fruitless, as he noted he was as rigid as a board. He could see Carla sitting on the shoulder of the one holding his legs, barking orders to it. It's then that he noticed that the candle in her head had burned all the way down and out, and cursed himself for forgetting. He also noted that Carla's eyes were hollowed out, with what looked to be smaller candles in the sockets. Almost like a jack-o-lantern. None of this made him feel any better though. How could he have been expected to deal with yet another one of these monstrosities when all of them kept making for him at once? It was some kind of RNG bullshit, that's for sure. That's how he felt anyways. He soon found himself in the Kitchen, which to him, was a slight relief. "At least I'm not in Maintenance. Whatever this was going to be for couldn't be worse being suited." he thought to himself.

    The Chicas deposited him on his back on a large counter. Carla hopped down and landed on his chest. The muffinbot smiled at him and told him that it was going to bake cupcakes. It then exclaimed its love for cupcakes as the best things ever. The guard glanced over at the chickens looming behind the small robot. The pair said nothing, though their bibs each had "I'D RATHER PIZZA." displayed. He felt that the bibs used to say something else, but he couldn't remember what. As the diminutive robot marched along his chest and went on about confections, he attempted to move once more. Carla seemed to notice this and devilishly grinned. Pointing at its fangs, it casually mentioned that they were tipped with an extremely potent muscle relaxant it had cooked up earlier that day. It then bit his nose as though to demonstrate. He found he could not even wince, but he definitely still felt the bite. The cupcakebot was seemingly pleased with itself as it continued, saying that it needed to get the recipe just right, or otherwise it'd stop the heart. And that would just spoil such good product, according to the animatronic. The guard was filled with confusion at its words, followed immediately with dread as the bot grabbed his mouth and forced it open. Peering inside, Carla looked it over as though scanning it. Then the bot deemed it a health hazard, saying it would have to be sterilized before use.

    Smiling sweetly, the robotic cupcake then mentioned how thankful it was for having boiling water ready to go. One of the chickenbots then came over, holding a kettle, its bib now saying "LET'S CLEAN!". He could see that the water in it was still bubbling. Carla held his mouth carefully and motioned for Chica to pour it down his throat. His eyes immediately watered as his throat was scalded. He felt the hot water start to get in his lungs, sending him further into agony, as he could not react. He could not gag or cough up any of the water. The muffinbot smiled again and looked over at Toy Chica (whose bib now read "OVEN'S READY.") to acknowledge that the oven should be ready by now. Then the cupcake stared into his eyes, adjusting itself so it could gaze evenly at him. Doing so caused the wax from the candles to drip onto his eyes searing them immediately. Carla then wondered aloud what it must be like to have your eyeballs boil, followed by ordering the pair to sit him up. He was in too much pain to know what was going on any longer. He felt something slap him on the back and hold him forward so most of the water would fall out, but he still felt waterlogged. One of the Chicas then put something in his mouth, and taped it so it wouldn't fall out. The heat of it told him it must have been a candle. He heard the oven door open and at the same time felt a sharp pain on his hand, specifically around one of his knuckles. Amidst the pain, he heard Carla say something about giving him its last candle as a gift, so it would take one of his as recompense. It would be the last thing he'd hear before being shoved into the oven.

    The following morning would have the usual reaction to a failed guardsman. A cleanup crew would be called in, evidence would be destroyed, advertisements for an open position would go out. Business as usual. The crew was admittedly surprised to find someone not in a suit, but in the oven this time. They also wondered why the corpse's mouth was covered in wax. But they never would find out of course. They never look hard enough into these matters, as they simply do what they're paid to do. It wouldn't be until the day guard's shift that Carla would be found, sitting where it's supposed to be. With a strange, almost finger-like candle burning on its head.