"Let's Celebrate! [Incomplete, see Celebration]

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Chica shouted out to the teeming crowds of young children. Most of them were fat.

"It shore has, Chica!" said Freddy, in his voice, which was a disconcerting mixture of Mickey Mouse and Goofy, with Mickey's legibility and Goofy's awkward enunciation. "We wore gawn for uh while there, fellas. But now we're back!"

Like nails on a chalkboard, Freddy's voice grated on the ears the most out of all four robots. Chica and Bonnie sounded like actual humans, Chica and Bonnie supposedly getting voiced by actual voice actors But Freddy Fazbear was so disassociated from the relatively human-like environment of these animal robots that he came across as less sincere than Bonnie, which was a surprise since her voice actress sounded clinically retarded. At least she was realistically dopey; Freddy sounded artificial.

Like someone had blended everything kids liked into one voice, and didn't understand that some elements don't work well with each other. Like plutonium and hydrogen.

In fact, why DID they decide on this? Why did management have so many heads up their coll-

"Hey, Evan", said an older woman's voice.

I put the tablet down onto the desk and straightened my posture. I recognized the speaker; only a manager of a corporate cog could have a voice like that. It had aged like wine, if it was popped open and left in a deep, dank dungeon with a smoldering fire-pit inside.

"Yes, Jan?"

"Juan called in sick. Said he's throwing up, and sounded like it too over the phone. We're gonna need you to take his place tonight. Just one night."

"But-"

"Someone's gotta do it," Jan said. "And that's that. Just do what you're doing right now, but at night. Try not to get killed before your shift, and you'll be fine."

I fell silent, and turned my gaze towards my coffee as she walked away, and stared into it for what felt like an hour. I took a sip, and felt my tongue's taste buds cry out for water. I stood up, and took a short walk to the break room, where the cooler was located. I heard laughter echo down the halls as I flattened myself against a wall to let a performer shuffle by, the unmistakable lumbering movement lingering in the air after they had turned the corner down towards the main stage for a special appearance.

Since it was two in the afternoon, it had to have been Fred who was in the golden Freddy suit. Fred's name was the source of less jokes than you'd think, primarily because he just punched in, and handed junk out at the prize counter before punching out on most days, excluding Golden Sunday, which was when we rolled out what were essentially wind-up toy soldiers; crank the robots, step in, and deliver cake or whatever that needed to be done. I always made sure to be out of sight when Jan started assigning people to different hours, and I never had to step inside those things. They were like tombs; they closed you in and wouldn't let you go for a long time.


Inside the break room, I grabbed a cup of water, and fucked about on Pac-Man for a while, using my key to open the bottom part of the arcade  machine to get back my quarters. The break room wasn't supposed to be a recreational room for employees, at least according to the higher-ups. It was a safe-room for employees to find in case an accident occurred with the golden suits as not to traumatize Little Johnny, with first aid kits, defibrillators, and fire hoses stocked inside. But these same higher-ups put an iced water cooler and arcade machines in as well, which makes me think they're full of shit and just spewing memos from their higher-ups. I was about to beat "ASS" in the high score when the screaming started.

I