“What… are you doing?”
Marionette’s pinprick eyes met Toy Freddy’s blue ones. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
If Toy Freddy had the ability to frown, he would have then, observing the Puppet sitting awkwardly cross-legged on the desk, the tablet held delicately in their hands. Instead of answering the question, he decided to pose another.
“Where’s the night guard?”
Marionette shrugged. “Freddy… old Freddy got to him. I don’t know past–”
A bloodcurdling scream erupted from the Parts/Service room, followed by a loud animatronic shriek.
“Oh. He’s in Parts/Service.”
“I know that now,” Toy Freddy groaned. “Why are you here?”
“I’m babysitting.”
“…Babysitting?”
“Mmhm.” The Puppet went quiet, flipping between the cameras.
“Babysitting,” Toy Freddy deadpanned.
“Babysitting,” was the response, somehow in an even more emotionless voice.
When they didn’t elaborate, he took a step forward, attempting to get a peak at the cameras. The Puppet yanked the tablet away with a glare.
“I’m babysitting you idiots,” they hissed.
“We don’t need ‘babysitting.’”
Marionette looked at at him again, unamused. “Mangle’s playing soccer in the main room with Balloon Boy.”
“His head?”
“No. With Balloon Boy.”
Toy Freddy winced. “You… have a point.”
He could have sworn that the Puppet’s smile had suddenly become one of an “I told you so” manner. It was.. it was probably just the light.
“So…” they said, tapping a few times on the tablet.
“So…” he repeated.
“So… can you go stop them?”
“Stop who?
Another glare. “Mangle.” They sighed. “I’m not particularly fond of Balloon Boy, but he does have a purpose. And we already have a murder on our hands.”
As if one cue, another scream erupted.
“QUIET!” Marionette yelled back, breaking their typically collected demeanor. Toy Freddy actually jumped.
A whimper was the only response.
“Anyways,” they grumbled, attempting to regain their composure. “I would prefer not to have a destroyed animatronic… or whatever Balloon Boy is… on our hands as well. So, if you could please go stop Mangle from their soccer match, that would be splendid and you would have my gratitude.”
Toy Freddy nodded. “…Sure, I guess. On one condition…”
“And that would be…?”
“Stop calling it babysitting. We’re not children.”
“Might as well be,” they grumbled, too low for the bear to hear.
Toy Freddy nodded again and began to make his leave, but he paused before the door.
“What is it now?” Marionette groaned.
“Here.” Toy Freddy scooped up the night guard’s hat from where it lay discarded on the floor and plopped it on the Puppet’s head. “It suits you.”
He waved and began his trip down the hallway, happily ignorant to the piercing glare of the Marionette, professional babysitter and night guard pro tempore.