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“Lay off, Fazbear!”
Monty growled at Freddy, shoving him a few feet back. They had moved to Chica’s green room when Roxy left for maintenance. The bear straightened his top hat and looked beseechingly into Chica’s face.
“All I am saying is, whatever is going on, eating out of the garbage will not help.”
Chica shook her head, the plates of metallic feathers atop her head swaying. “You don’t get it. I can’t help myself. It helps me feel better, at least for a while.”
Freddy frowned. She hated when he frowned. It felt like she was personally letting him down. “I cannot claim to understand what you are going through,” he said. “But please believe me when I say I only want to help.”
She did believe him. How could she not? Freddy was one of Chica’s best friends. He would never want to hurt her. But that didn’t change the fact that there was nothing he could do or say to help her. Monty continued his growling.
“’Course ya don’t understand.” The gator threw his hands up in the air. “You’re Freddy freakin’ Fazbear, favored freakin’ son! Once again deigning to bless us with your darn advice, that nobody asked for!”
“Come on, Monty,” Chica chirped. “We’re all friends here. Let’s not fight, especially about this.”
She hated to admit it, but she didn’t entirely disagree with him. Freddy was the crowd favorite. Everybody loved him, even the technicians. Every show they had only praise to heap on him while the rest of the band were told where they went wrong.
Stood in the wrong spot at bar 32. Missed a chord at bar 46. Showboating 3.24 seconds too early. But Freddy? Perfect every time. It wasn’t fair.
Monty had made his stance clear, with Roxy firmly on his side. They were frustrated. Chica was too. But she knew Freddy. She knew he wasn’t a bad guy. But how could he ever understand their frustrations?
She didn’t hate him of course. She knew Freddy had his own problems to deal with. Chica glanced towards the branded bowling balls sitting in the corner; one bright pink, with a bow design on one side. The other, cyan and covered in stars. There was an identical ball in Freddy’s room. She’d seen it. It was probably one of the few things left that they had in common.
Chica looked back to Freddy, who hadn’t yet responded to Monty’s comments. His circuitry must’ve been working overtime to find an appropriate response.
Eventually, he turned towards the door. “Well, then,” Freddy said, his voice small. “I will leave you alone. I am sorry for intruding.”
“Good riddance,” Monty huffed. Chica shot him a scolding look as she got up from the couch and went to Freddy.
“No,” she said. “You’re right. It’s no good what I’m doing. I can’t… I can’t explain why I do it. I just…”
The door by the vanity open, and another, chipper voice joined the conversation.
“You guys having a party? If I knew you were all congregating here I’d have brought Roxy!”
It was one of the general technicians. Blond hair braided out of her face, her hazel eyes settled on Chica. The top half of her cobalt blue coveralls had been tied around her waist, revealing an unbranded crimson T-shirt beneath. The young woman skipped up to Chica with an unfaltering smile. “Hiya, Chica!”
“Alexis!” Chica put on the best smile she could muster. “We didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”
“Really?” Alexis looked up towards the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. “I didn’t think I was any faster than normal. Guess I was wrong. But didn’t I tell you already? Just call me Lexi. Everybody does.” She did tell them that. Often. She held a hand out. “Anyway, it’s your turn to head down to P&S.”
Monty’s growling started back up behind Lexi. Either she was ignoring him, or unfathomably oblivious. Either way, Chica gave a shaky laugh as she backed up from the technician.
“Wow, really? Right now? You’re sure?”
“Sure as sugar,” Lexi answered, before turning her attention to the other two. “Oh, but you guys can’t hang out here while Chica’s gone. You know the rules. Off with you.”
Freddy sighed and headed for the door. Monty stayed put. “I will find you later then, Chica,” the bear said. “After my own maintenance of course, if that is alright with you.”
Chica gave Freddy a smile, in some hope of pulling her energy back up. “Of course! You’re always welcome here.” Then she looked inquisitively at Monty. Lexi also seemed to be staring at him, arms crossed.
He gave as obnoxious a sigh as his voice box would allow and strode towards Chica. “Don’t listen to ‘em. That ain’t got a clue what they’re talkin’ about.”
“Thank you, Monty,” Lexi said flatly, shooing him toward the door. She then took hold of Chica’s hand and lead her to the elevator. “Don’t worry, honey. We technicians are here to take care of you guys, remember? You’re in good hands.”
Chica nodded with a small “right,” as she followed Lexi into the elevator.
As it began its descent, Lexi pulled her phone from her pocket and started scrolling. “Let’s see… So today you’re set for your weekly check up. Some minor tune-ups and a clean out. How’s that been going by the way? You eating well?”
“Oh, uh, yeah” Chica lied. “All good! Only the best! You know me.” How exactly was she expected to answer that? Eating well? Like… salads?
Lexi quirked a brow. “Oh really? No garbage?”
Chica held her smile firm. “Not a scrap!”
“You know I’m the one checking you for that stuff, right?”
“Ah… Okay, mostly garbage.” Lexi chuckled, pocketing her phone. “Please don’t tell Barb!”
“Not to worry, honey. When I’m done, no one’ll be any the wiser!”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks Ale- Ah, Lexi.”
Chica liked Lexi. She was one of the technicians who didn’t judge the band so harshly. Although, she was also a part-timer, having taken the job to pay her way through college, so they didn’t get to talk much. Aside from that, Lexi had only been working at the Pizzaplex for about a month. Maybe she still wasn’t over the novelty of working with robotic rock stars yet. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for new technicians to be starstruck. In time she’d get just as bogged down in the workload as everyone else and the band would become just a bunch of robots. That was always how it went. Best to make the most of this while it lasted, Chica supposed.
The technicians occupying Parts and Service didn’t acknowledge either of them when they entered. For the better really. They took their usual route from the elevator to the side rooms; a series of compact chambers with terrible open plan designs. Did everywhere the robots went have to include windows?
About half of them were currently housing endoskeletons. Chica tried not to look at them. She couldn’t explain why, but the endos creeped her out. Fortunately, she wouldn’t have to see them when they found a free room.
“Okay, now you just wait here and I’ll grab the cleaning supplies.” Lexi darted out of the little room and disappeared around a corner, leaving Chica to sit completely still on the metal table.
The maintenance cylinder sat in full view; a horrible thing that put her in a state of unconsciousness, but her body was still very much active with all the dangers of zero inhibitions. An older woman in pink coveralls stood at the console speaking to one of the general technicians. Even from a distance, Chica recognised the trademark brunette bun, sharp jawline and stern expression. Barb was out there. Based on her lip movement, she was discussing notes from the day’s show. Chica already knew all the notes. She didn’t want to think about them again, so she looked for something else to focus her attention on. That something would turn out to be a staring contest with an endo on the other side of the room. Great.
Its cold stare pierced Chica’s, but she couldn’t look away. Objectively, she knew it was nothing to be afraid of. It was just like her and her friends. The only difference was a lack of a casing. On the other hand, it could so easily replace her, or Roxy, or Monty. And no one would have any idea. Not even the replacement. Was she a replacement? How many times had her friends been replaced? They all had the same memories. Was it still their own minds then? If the only thing that changed was their bodies, it still counted as being them, right?
“Hellooooo? Earth to Chica!”
Chica squawked as she recoiled to the wall. Likewise, Lexi hopped back, gripping a small crate full of sprays, rags and a plastic bag. “Ah… Sorry,” she said, setting down the crate on the table. “I guess I ruined your concentration, huh?” Lexi peered out to the endo. “Must be weird seeing those things around here, huh? I mean, a human skeleton just standing around like that is usually reserved for Halloween and movies.” Chica nodded, watching Lexi. The technician pulled on a pair of latex gloves and opened up the plastic bag. “Well, you know the drill.”
She did. Open her stomach hatch, sit still and wait. That was all she had to do.
“Oh hey!” Lexi exclaimed. “You ate way less this week! Great job!”
That was good news! Chica held her head high. “Thanks! I guess I just wasn’t that hungry this week.”
“That’s good, right?” Lexi set to picking out pieces of cardboard and leftover food, throwing them into the bag. “Why did they make you feel hunger anyway if you’re not supposed to eat?”
“Oh, y’know, I never thought to ask. I guess I just never questioned it.”
“Well maybe I can ask. Barb’s been here a while, maybe she knows.
“No!” Lexi froze, holding her breath. She hadn’t intended it, but Chica had lurched forward to wrap a hand around Lexi’s arm. She stared at her hand, took a deep breath, and loosened her grip. “Oh gosh… I’m sorry, Lexi. I just mean… I don’t think she does know. None of the technicians do actually, probably. A lot of staff turnover, you know? None of the original technicians are here any more. Oh, but you didn’t hear that from me!”
Lexi tilted her head a little, but let out a breath, shrugged and went back to work. “Alright, I get it. A secret not meant for us to know.”
“Uh, yeah…”
She continued chatting through the work; about classes, family, work gossip. Chica wondered how she was so comfortable cleaning up someone who had just grabbed at her. It wasn’t like Freddy’s had a clean reputation, even at the best of times.
Before she knew it, Chica’s stomach hatch was shut and Lexi straightened. “Well then, looks like we’re done here. Come on, let’s get you to Barb.”
With a nod, Chica dropped off the table and glanced out the window again. Barb wasn’t at the cylinder now. Her attention snapped to the doorway when Lexi squeaked in surprise. The mystery of where Barb went did not last, as she stood in silence, looking from the crate in Lexi’s arms to Chica.
Finally, Barb looked to Lexi and spoke. “Garbage again.”
“Yep,” Lexi answered, finding her smile once more. “Not as much this week. A big improvement!”
“None of the others eat garbage.”
Chica deflated. Barb turned on her heel. “Go and clean her green room. Make sure to shampoo the carpet.” Lexi saluted, giving Chica an apologetic smile as she hurried off to the elevators. Barb was already walking to the maintenance cylinder, so Chica followed. On the bright side, at least while she was blacked out she wouldn’t be expected to listen to anyone.
“FREDDY FAZBEAR’S MEGA PIZZAPLEX IS NOW CLOSED. INITIATING NIGHT-TIME PROTOCOLS.”
The announcement echoed across Rockstar Row, stirring the robots from rest mode. That meant one thing; they were finally free to leave their green rooms for the night.
Chica had been waiting by her door for this moment, slipping out of her room before any of the others could even think of paying her a visit. Being the resident fitness guru came with its share of benefits. For example, Chica was the lightest on her feet, much to Roxy’s chagrin, and thanks to this was able to move without making much noise beyond the work of her hydraulics. She didn’t really have a specific destination in mind. She just had to get away. Away from everyone. Nothing registered as Chica walked. No noises, no movement, not even the impact of a security bot almost crashing into her.
Eventually, Chica would find herself face-to-face with a plain red curtain blocking off a small stage. She was in the ice cream parlor, staffed by attendant bots, all of them staring at her. Like the other S.T.A.F.F bots, they didn’t speak, but Chica knew that if they did, they’d have nothing nice to say about her. Huffing, she brushed off their dead-eyed gaze and pulled aside the curtain. Through the black curtain, she made her way down a narrow corridor. Where it turned off sat a recharge station. She stopped just a little beyond it. The room beyond had long since been locked behind a gate. So Chica stood, staring through to the crimson door. A wet floor sign sat next to it as usual, watching her. Funny, those things. They were like little guards.
“Hi, little guy,” she said. “How’s guard duty?” She didn’t linger too much, turning her attention back to the door with a wide smile. “Hiya, Bonnie. How’s it going? Our show was good again. Not as fun as it used to be, obviously, but the guests still liked it.”
No response came from the door, nor did Chica expect one to.
“Hey, listen. I was thinking of getting some ice cream. Do you want to join me? We can get Freddy and Foxy too. We’ll have a big sundae together, and then you’ll destroy us at bowling, just like old times… Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Chica’s beak quivered. She waited a few seconds, and then let out a sigh. “Okay, I get it. Maybe next time. I’ll uh… I’ll see you around, okay?”
She stepped backward until reaching the corner, eyes still on the door, waiting in vain for the slightest movement. When nothing happened, Chica turned away and headed back for the ice cream parlor. Well, at least now she had a destination. She paused behind the curtain, listening. No one was there, save for the S.T.A.F.F bots. Not that Chica expected anyone else to turn up. The only one to ever show up here was the security guard, but she wasn’t due for a few hours.
When Chica stepped out from the curtain, the attendants all looked in her direction once more. Ever silent, they calculated her movements and decided what needed to be done. One bot rolled toward the door that separated storage from the customer area.
Oh.
They were challenging her.
Chica narrowed her eyes, bending low to the ground. Honing in on the guard, she moved slowly around the counter. The other bots did not go back to their duties. Their gaze shifted between Chica and the guard. Probably thinking their colleague a fool. All the while, Chica crept, calculating her action. Distance, momentum, force. All of it materialised in her optics as she pin pointed the right moment to strike.
Once close enough, Chica sprung into action. Letting out an ear-piercing screech, she barrelled into the S.T.A.F.F bot. It was quickly knocked aside laying flat on its back as the chicken dashed into the storage area.
She flew down the corridors until finally she came to her prize; the freezers. In seconds, piles of boxes were pulled from their neat arrangements and splayed across the floor. Dropping to her knees, Chica ripped open the nearest box with her beak, and tore into the icy goodness.
“Wow, Chica, you really messed up this time.”
The technician wiped pizza sauce from Chica’s chest with a hearty laugh. She couldn’t make out any of his features. His employee profile had been scrubbed from the system a long time ago. Still, Chica heaved a sigh at the stranger.
“I know,” she mumbled, shifting her weight. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand.”
The technician, still grinning, shook his head. “Yeah, well maybe if we’re lucky this’ll go in a PSA on not climbing the railings.” He chuckled again, and let out a sigh. “I shouldn’t laugh really. We’re looking at a lawsuit for this one. Hell, they’re saying a rep from HQ is coming down to smooth things over.”
Chica turned her gaze to the floor. “Someone from HQ…?”
“Supposedly.” He shrugged. “How’d those kids even get up on the railing anyhow? Isn’t the whole point of you guys chaperoning to keep them distracted from pulling shit like that?”
“Keeping them safe,” she corrected him. “And entertained.”
“Yeah, yeah. What happened?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t know how to answer. All Chica knew was she had failed the one job she was required to do.
The technician stepped back, admiring his work. “Well, Barb says you gotta stay in your green room for the rest of the day. Someone’ll come and get you for maintenance in the morning. So you know, just stay out of trouble till the rep arrives. You can handle that, right?”
She nodded, not that the technician would see. He’d already turned to leave the little room and seek out his next task. Chica made extra effort to avoid eye contact with any of the technicians on her way to the elevator. When inside, she finally slumped.
What was wrong with her today? She’d always been so good with the kids. Things like this never happened!
But today, it did.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. When Chica stepped outside, she paused. She didn’t want to go into her room. Not yet. Out there she had to smile and look pretty for all the humans to gawk at. But in the space between green room and elevator, there were no windows. No guests. No performances. Here, she had privacy.
She leaned against a wall and closed her eyes. It was so quiet here. Peaceful even. She could finally be alone with her thoughts. Just decompress and reflect. And… smell pizza?
Looking around the little room, Chica spied a discarded pizza box on the floor. She grimaced. Someone had been taking their break behind her green room again. The least they could do was clean up after themselves. Rolling her eyes, Chica picked up the box. It still had a few slices left. Even worse.
She should leave it. It wasn’t her responsibility to keep this area clean. But at the same time, she couldn’t just stand by while her space was taken advantage of. The box had to go. Only, where to put it?
Maybe…? No, bad idea. But then…
Gazing down at the pizza slices, Chica recalled seeing how the humans would light up when presented with food. Sometimes someone could be having the most miserable day, and then it would be turned around by a burger or nachos. Well, she was feeling rotten now, and the pizza had to go somewhere. She tentatively picked up a slice, its grease dripping into the joints in her fingers. Chica cringed. That was probably going to cause her problems later.
Still, one slice couldn’t hurt.
Ice cream coated Chica’s beak. Her hands grew increasingly sticky as she ripped apart cardboard and stuffed it down her gullet. Any S.T.A.F.F bots that tried to stop her were promptly shooed away with a screech and attempt at ripping off their arms. She wasn’t about to stop for a single one of them, stock levels be darned!
It wasn’t until she saw her reflection in the freezer door that gave Chica pause. She stared at it for a long while.
Splodges of ice cream stained her casing in all manner of colour. Her bubblegum pink chest plates had become a mosaic of mint-green, strawberry red, chocolate-and-caramel brown, among an array of other colours. Melting dairy dripped from her beak to the floor where plastic and cardboard lay, shredded and strewn all around, some pieces having flown several yards away. Her fingers stuck uncomfortably to one another.
What was she doing?
What had she become?
The fitness-promoting chicken, an aerobics instructor and superstar complete with her own exercise studio was now sitting alone in the backroom of Bonnie Bowl, stuffing herself silly with ice cream and trash. She didn’t even have the dignity to keep herself clean.
Robots don’t cry. They don’t hurt. They certainly don’t hate. They shouldn’t feel anything at all. It was all just a simulation for performance. And yet, Chica was here, feeling, hating, hurting. She wanted to cry. She wanted nothing more than to break down in tears.
She was a failure.
Chica felt a deep heaviness in her chest. Not from the ice cream, no. It was something else. It held her in place, staring at her hands. She couldn’t bring herself to move. She no longer shrieked at S.T.A.F.F bots when they moved in to clean up her mess. Why would she? They didn’t try to make her move. They just worked around her, probably talking amongst each other. It barely occurred to her to wonder what they might be saying. If they could speak, nothing they could say would be any worse than the technicians.
Well, except for one. And just like that, Chica’s chest felt even heavier.
Just a few hours ago, she had been sitting in Parts and Service with Lexi cleaning her out from the last week. Now it was all undone. Lexi had even congratulated her on eating less. Someone was finally happy for her. No judgement or criticism. Just genuine joy for something she had achieved all by herself. And Chica had been proud. She was finally getting better. For a moment even, she had hope.
But that didn’t change the facts.
None of the others eat garbage.