"So how did things go over there?" Bonnet asked, her voice bright and cheerful as ever. She sat perched on the edge of the coffee table, mid-conversation with Angel, who looked tense—or even traumatized—from what she had been hearing.
"Spirits possessing killer animatronics. The usual," Mike replied, tossing his worn jacket over the back of a chair.
"And here I thought Freddy's was special," Yenndo murmured. "Makes you wonder how many other places out there are just like it."
"I'm not interested in playing Ghostbusters," Mike said, letting his bag hit the floor with a dull thud. "Did anything actually happen while I was gone?"
Static was heard through the computer as Lolbit's avatar rolled her eyes. "Does anything interesting ever happen in this house?"
Mike ignored her, reaching into his pocket as he turned toward the couch. "Take this; I bought it on my way here," he said, tossing a flip phone into Angel's lap. "I already put my number in it. If something happens—or if you ever find a way to get yourself in trouble—call Lolbit or me."
Angel flinched slightly as the small phone landed in her lap. She picked it up with both hands and held it close.
"Uh... thanks," she mumbled.
Bonnet perked up immediately, her ears twitching as she watched Angel hold the phone. "Wait! Can we get phones too?"
"I don't think animatronics need phones."
"Sounds like discrimination against the animatronic kind to me," Lolbit shot back from her screen.
Mike didn't bother answering. He picked his bag back up and turned toward his room.
"Um... Mike?" Angel asked from the couch, her voice low as she pulled her gaze away from the flip phone. "Is what Bonnet said about your family... and that thing about 'Eggs Benedict'... is all of that true?"
Mike stopped for a moment. "Yeah, but none of that seems to matter now."
"Well," Angel said, her voice tightening with a sudden edge of sharp, bitter resolve as she stood up. "If you're working at Freddy's trying to find your dad—the owner of the company responsible for turning me into candy—then shouldn't I come with you and work at Freddy's too? Hopefully I can get answers on how to fix this."
"We could work something out," Mike said. "They're the type to hire anyone. If you reach out to them now, I'm confident you'll have the job by tomorrow since they just fired someone.
Once Lolbit finishes making your resume, you can then go sign your soul away and start working."
Back in his room, he changed his clothes and lay down on the bed, resting his arms behind his head. His eyes went to the ceiling, where he had taped a poster of Nebraska. He had often wished he could move there; after all, things weren't as complicated back then as they were now.
Mike went to sleep, only to wake up to the sound of Bonnet.
"Good morning, Mike!"
Bonnet peered over him. He dragged a heavy hand down his face and muttered, "Good morning to you, too. Also, I don't exactly need you acting like another alarm clock when I already have one."
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and started the day by going through his usual routine to get ready for another day at Freddy's.
At Freddy's, Mike carried heavy cardboard boxes of new toys labelled 'Lonely Freddy' toward the prize counter, the robotic blue eyes staring blankly through the boxes. As he handed the toys to the prize-counter clerk, Nancy approached, a recruit trailing behind her.
"Michael, this is Abby," Nancy said smoothly, gesturing to the tense girl beside her. "Abby, this is Michael. He'll be showing you around the place so you can quickly get familiar with everything."
Mike paused, handing over the last box he was currently holding. He glanced over at Abby, catching the subtle bit of hatred for this place in her eyes.
"I appreciate having a new buddy to talk to, but I'm rather busy at the moment."
"Dominic isn't around, and Ralph is somewhere taking a break," Nancy replied, dismissively waving a hand, "and there isn't anyone else as competent as you are."
"What about Kevin?"
"Terminated."
"Ah. I see. Alright, Abby, help me move these toys here."
Both of them headed toward the back storage hallway to grab more inventory, while also showing her around.
"By the way... if you're going undercover here, why are you using your real name, even though you told me to use some other name?"
Mike shoved open the heavy storage room door. "How many people do you think in Utah alone are named Michael?" He crossed his arms, smirking. "Besides, I think Abby is a funny name."
Angel glared at him. "Asshole much?"
Mike chuckled. "Oh, come on. Angel only recently went missing; she is pretty popular around here. You should have seen how many people showed up last week; they wouldn't stop asking questions. How many people do you think are named Angel? It's always good to make sure."
Angel narrowed her eyes, scanning the empty hallway. "Where is Dominic? I know he works around here."
"Don't tell me you still miss your true love already."
"I want to tear his throat out," Angel snapped back, her fingers clenching into a tight fist. "I just want to know what the hell he was thinking, turning me into a walking candy statue, then shoving me into a box."
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard," Mike cut in. "Even I don't think he wanted that to happen to you, but hey, casualties happen, and nobody cares here. Which is why, if it makes you feel better, I sent him to the hospital."
Angel froze, her eyes widening as she stared at him in disbelief. "You did what!?"
Mike grabbed a box onto his shoulder. "He was kidnapping you, so I had to kidnap you professionally."
Angel looked at him. "Are you fucking crazy?"
"Oh, come on, you would have done it if it wasn't me and don't bother trying to cover your face; I know you're laughing. Let's hurry up with these toys so I can show you the rest of the place and introduce you to your colleagues."
While helping parents and kids or even cleaning the place up, Angel was introduced to everyone, including the guys backstage. Mike noticed that two of the animatronics covered by the tarp were gone, and all that remained was some purple Freddy. According to the guys, they moved the dog animatronic to parts and service, so that's where he started heading. Inside Parts & Service, Greg was on the computer running diagnostics while Ralph stood beside him holding a coffee cup.
"Hey, Mike, who's the new girl?" Ralph asked as he took another sip.
"Ralph, Greg, this is Abby. Abby, this is Ralph and Greg," Mike introduced.
"Hello, Abby," Ralph offered with a polite, nervous smile. "I hope you're getting used to working at Freddy's."
Greg snorted, glancing back at his laptop. "Oh, so Nancy got a replacement so soon."
Abby glanced towards Mike, nearly whispering. "Uh... what does he mean by that?"
"Don't worry about it," Mike said smoothly before she could pry further.
Greg cleared his throat, looking towards Ralph. "Where is that technician?"
"Which one?" Ralph asked.
"The one that Nancy didn't terminate," Greg replied, rather annoyed, considering that Nancy had terminated two of the technicians who had been working under him.
"Ah," Ralph sighed. "I see. Let me go get her."
As Ralph walked out, Mike turned to Greg. "So... do you need help with anything here, or should I continue giving our lovely new friend the tour?"
Greg didn't even look up from his computer. "If she isn't working here as a new technician, then just take the garbage and leave."
Mike grabbed a full bin of trash by the doorway and led Abby out into the hallway.
"And last but not least, the back room," Mike said, stopping near the hidden door. "You're welcome to do whatever the hell you want in here, and you won't be legally held responsible."
"So... is this the suit your dad used to kill kids?" she asked, looking at the faded fur and metal joints. "It's not looking too great."
"It hasn't been used in years or properly maintained, but a certain someone used it last year. According to the news, nobody was charged because they couldn't figure out who was wearing the suit, so yeah, enough of the tour. I will now head back to make sure those kids don't end up doing something stupid."
"Assuming that certain someone is your dad," she muttered.
"Come on," Mike said, turning back toward the corridor. "We've got sticky soda spills to clean up before the parents start screaming."