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If he was anyone else, Michael would’ve walked out before even getting in that messed up elevator. But he wasn’t, and he was determined, and maybe a bit reckless, and now he was trying to find a power outlet.
“You need to crawl through Funtime Foxy’s auditorium,” HandUnit repeated. Michael wasn’t that sure he was imagining its exasperation.
“Nope,” he said, even though talking aloud was probably a bad idea. Goddamn voice-activated bots. “I’m staying riiiight here.”
“If you are refusing to comply with my orders, then you will be fired in the morning. I am here for your health and safety, and to ensure you complete your tasks.”
“You told me to run through Ballora Gallery, buddy. Not exactly health and safety. Aha!” He plugged in the popcorn maker and flipped the switch. It beeped. A little light turned on.
“You are not authorised to use power ports,” HandUnit snapped.
Michael grinned. He tore open the top of the bag. “What’re ya gonna do about it, Handy?”
“I can flip the breakers,” HandUnit said, high and mighty.
“And shut yourself down?” he returned, pouring the kernels in.
HandUnit didn’t say anything.
Michael grinned and set the maker going.
The silence stretched out for a while. The building churned with the hum of electronics that are never turned off. It was a familiar sound. Every Freddy’s had it. Hell, his house used to sound like that. Michael broke the quiet with a friendly, “Do you know how many OSHA violations this place has?”
HandUnit grumbled — which was strange, because AI voices don’t usually have grumbles programmed into them — and said, “You are not allowed to question the choices of Circus Baby’s Entertainment and Rentals. This may result in your termination.”
“Oh, I’m questioning them, man.” The maker beeped again, and Michael pulled a large bowl from his backpack.
“...I’m locking the doors, Eggs,” HandUnit informed him.
“Eggs,” Michael scoffed quietly, opening the single-serve sealed pack of butter. Then he replied at a normal volume, “Cool.”
“You don’t seem distressed,” HandUnit mused. “Your heart rate is not elevated.”
“How do you know my heart rate?” Michael said, even though he wasn’t surprised. His dad was weird as hell. Probably installed infra-red sensors or something.
“There are infra-red sensors.”
Michael grinned triumphantly as he mixed the butter in. “Nice.”
Without warning, Baby’s voice streamed through the speakers. “Is that… popcorn?”
Michael started, almost dropping the bowl. “Jesus,” he yelped. “Yes.”
“Circus Baby, you are not to talk over the intercom,” HandUnit scolded.
“I don’t like you,” Baby informed him.
HandUnit was quiet again. It was surprisingly easy to assign a generic face to him, pretty easy to imagine some plain guy in an office cubicle frowning. Michael grinned at the idea.
“...D’you want popcorn, Baby?” Michael asked.
She didn’t answer for a moment. Then, “I am a robot, Eggs. I cannot eat.”
“My name isn’t Eggs. And if you can’t eat, how can you smell?”
“That is a good question. My maker designed me with the ability to smell food, so that I know which foods need to be replenished at a party. It is mostly distracting, because I can also smell other things. Oil, mostly. Smoke, sometimes.”
“Huh. Dude was high out of his mind making you guys,” Michael commented, shovelling popcorn into his mouth.
One of the monitors lit up in front of him. A grinning orange, purple and white Foxy head showed up on the screen. A black-and-white pinwheel spun behind it. Bold text over it read fuck you too. It winked, then the screen flickered to static again.
Michael blinked a few times. “Um.”
“Oh, that’s Lolbit, ignore them,” Funtime Freddy said, and Michael nearly jumped out of his skin again. Freddy was pressed against the window, grinning. His voice was slightly muffled through the glass.
“Oh my god, guys,” Michael gasped, over the sensation of his heart pounding out of his chest. “Give me some warning. Can we get the lights on in here, HandUnit?”
“And why should I do that for someone who is not following my instructions?” HandUnit snarked.
“I’ll go into your code and set your voice to Angsty Teen permanently.”
The lights turned on.
Funtime Foxy paused in murdering a maintenance guy. They looked up very slowly and made eye contact with Michael.
Michael waved, mouth full of popcorn.
Foxy looked between the corpse in their hand and Michael. They lowered their hand. The body flopped.
“Gosh, Foxy, have some respect for the working class,” Bonnet quipped. Funtime Freddy smiled at him.
“Can you guys shut up,” Ballora said, distantly from her stage, still spinning. “You are so annoying. I’m trying to dance.”
“I work here,” Michael informed her through a mouthful of popcorn.
“That is impolite, Eggs, close your mouth,” HandUnit reprimanded him.
Michael shrugged to the camera.
The vents rattled, and Bonnet peeked in through the bars. His tiny blue face was kind of adorable in a murderous way. “Can I come in?”
“Nope. You’re gonna eat my face off.”
If it was possible for an animatronic rabbit to pout, Bonnet would’ve been. “I won’t!”
“Everyone here wants to kill me, Bonnet. I’m not taking any chances.”
“I’m not,” Baby said sadly.
“Okay, fair,” Michael conceded, waving it off. “That’s just ‘cause your chest cavity only fits kids. That’s right, I know about the chest cavity. Ice cream, my ass.”
Something scrabbled at the window to his left, crawling up over Freddy’s shoulders. It was a small horde of Minireenas.
“Urgh, get off!” Freddy said, trying to shake them to the ground, but they clung on tight. He flexed his faceplates, and one of them hit its head against his endo in a futile attempt at resistance. He snapped his face back together, and the Minireena flailed, head stuck in his chin.
Michael went to grab another handful of popcorn, but grasped only air. “Damnit.” He pulled out the maker again. HandUnit groaned.
It was going to be a long night.