Chapter Text
The irritating squeak of the metal cleaning cart makes its way to the still brightly-lit daycare. Annoying, ear-wormy music blasts from hidden speakers from around the room at a volume so loud you can hear it over your earplugs.
It really was just another day.
It's horrible here, the company is shady as hell, kids are annoying, even though you work night shifts, and most of your coworkers are robots. What sucks even more is that you're not local like a lot of the other coworkers here.
You're a former actor, which is said in very loose terms as you never actually starred in anything other than school plays and the occasional local car dealership commercial. You recently had a big break in the industry, as a recognizable indie company and big indie director cast you as a major role in an upcoming movie, an adaptation of a famous video game series with a built-in fanbase. You were told to pack your things and fly all the way out to Utah, the filming location, to start the shoot, and you did.
Only for everything to come crashing down as the movie was canceled last minute.
It was your big break, and it was taken from you.
So, you had two options: one was to stay in Hurricane and live out the rest of your days here, or to keep searching for roles in big films.
You chose the latter.
The squeaking cart pulled to a stop as you looked over the trashed daycare. The cleaning bots aren't allowed in here, as it makes the Sun animatronic that's in here act up, and also most of the messes are in places that the bots can't really get.
You sigh as you note the messes, spilled snacks, crayons everywhere, torn papers, lost shoe, puddle of Fizzy Faz, oh and two piles of vomit, that's one less than last night!
You pull out your gloves and a sponge and get to work, starting with the piles of vomit. You scrub the floor with the shitty sponge that always seems to just push the mess around rather than clean it. You groan as it seems to be working less and less every single day. Eventually, you just give up with the sponge and take a paper towel out and pick up the vomit yourself, throwing it in the trash bin that's attached to the cart.
The Pizzaplex was never your first choice, but no other place was hiring. Your job was to do all of the stuff that the other cleaning bots couldn't do, which meant you had to visit the daycare every... single... day. It was hell. Hell. No other word for it. Everything here was overstimulating and there was always something you missed. whenever you finish your job. You expect there to be a hidden third pile of vomit somewhere inside one of the playplaces.
As both piles of vomit have been finished, you move on to cleaning up the Fizzy Faz, which brings you back to the sponge. You honestly don't know why you keep using the sponge for the vomit. Maybe it's because the training manual told you to use the sponge on the vomit, but the sponge sucks and is only good for cleaning dried messes.
Then comes the crayons. This is annoying, as it seems some kid shoved the crayons into their mouth before spitting it back out in the most annoying and hard to reach spaces. They keep on slipping and sliding around the facility, and they keep falling out of your hand. You have to place them on a paper towel and clean off all the spit before putting them back into the crayon box. All the while the annoying tune didn't let up.
You take out your broom and butler and sweep up all the crumbs. Finally, some peace. The daycare floor is completely clean. Somewhat. You haven't checked around the ball pit. You know the Sun animatronic keeps the ball pit itself clean during the day so the other kids don't get crayon or colored pencil in their eye, so that's at least one backpain down.
Around the ball pit, though. That's the wild west. Usually the worst messes are found in the crevices between the main floor and the ball pit.
You search around the ball pit, only to find MORE CRAYONS. You groan a loud groan as you pick up, individually, each crayon and clean the spit that is still on them. Not only that, but dust too. There had to be like thirty of them around the ball pit alone.
"I hate this STUPID JOB!" you shout as you clean up the mess.
You finish up the crayons, but now with a newfound feeling of being watched. Yet, nobody was around to watch you. Could it be the Sun animatronic? You knew it was always around the daycare, even though you've never seen it physically. You saw the statue of the Moon animatronic before, even though you weren't sure it existed.
Now, the worst part is here. The playplaces. The messiest part of the entire plex. It's usually clean for most of the day, but it closes earlier than the rest of the daycare, so the mess that accumulates in the last hour or so of the daycare being closed is entirely your mess to clean.
There are, as expected, more crayons. Luckily, they aren't covered in spit this time.
First playplace down, now it's time for the second playplace and... and oh god. It smells rancid.
Sure enough, as you climb through, you find one of the worst things you've ever laid eyes upon. A large, stinking pile of shit. Just laying there. You can tell from the looks of it it's kinda squishy, too.
"Are you fucking kidding me," you say, "Are you. FUCKING. Kidding me,"
You climb out of the playplace and grab a broom and dustpan and go back inside. As you go in, the dustpan falls out of your hand and into the slide that leads right into the ball pit. Great. Fucking great. You follow the dustpan into the ball pit and pull it out, climbing out of the ball pit. A few balls fall out of the ball pit. You go in and pick the balls up. You climb back up the playplace. You move the shit into the dustpan. You get out of the playplace as awkwardly as possible and dump it into the attached trash bin. You go to the nearest bathroom and clean up the dustpan to remove all traces of shit from it. Fuck. Finally, you're done in the daycare. Get the fuck out of there and move into the fucking...
Fuck.
You notice that one of the cleaning bots is laying on the floor, twitching and glitching. It's voice glitching and repeating one word over and over again.
"Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait!"
You... couldn't take it anymore. You couldn't. You really couldn't.
You shut the door to the daycare and stare at the cleaning cart, the pile of shit in the attached bin making the whole place smell bad.
It's too much.
Your mind glazes over, and soon enough you realize that your foot is now angrily kicking the side of the cleaning cart. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
You grunt angry grunts as you take out your frustrations on the cart. You punch it, kick it, everything. It's not enough. Your hair frizzes and falls out of place. Your anger is immeasurable.
Your fury knows no bounds as you soon collapse and start to punch the ground.
You aren't supposed to be here! You're supposed to be a star! Filming would have wrapped up by now! You would have been famous! FAMOUS! Why are you stuck here, cleaning up puke and shit when you should be out there, acting your ass off in front of a camera!
"FUUUUUUUUCKKKKKK!!!!!" you shout, "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"
You get up and get behind the desk, noticing another FUCKING crayon.
"Fuck this crayon!" you shout, "Fuck this crayon! Fuck this vomit! Fuck this daycare! Fuck this soda! Fuck Fazbear Entertainment! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!"
You hear mechanical whirring, and your eyes meet the white, permanently grinning eyes of an animatronic. One whose creepy, soulless gaze is focusing entirely on you, hiding behind a door. You clam up, face red. It was the Sun animatronic, and you just insulted the daycare in front of him.
"I'm so sorry!" You say, "I didn't mean that it's mostly this job, the daycare is fine!"
The Sun animatronic made its way towards you, slowly, as if it was a wild, wounded rabbit approaching a human giving it food and attention. Soon, it was close to you, its face inches away from yours.
"Don't tell Fazbear?" I say. The Sun animatronic shushes you before nodding. What did that mean? Your eyes were wide with fear and your face went cold.
Yet that all went away when the Sun animatronic began to speak.
"GaaaaaAAAAAHHH!" it finally groans, "This place is the WORST!! Crayons everywhere! Kids screaming and crying! They just can't SHUT UP!"
Your face contorts in confusion.
"Do you know how much self control it takes for me to not just lash out every time a kid vomits because of the cheap pizza they sell here?" it says, coming up to you, "I'm supposed to be a friendly face for the kids, but they're all so DESTRUCTIVE! They ruin EVERYTHING! GAHHHH!"
You smile, "I can imagine,"
"GAHHHH!" screams Sun, "Every time! Every day! I have to worry about so much stuff! You don't experience the worst of it!"
It punches the side of the playplace repeatedly, screaming random arts and crafts items.
"Glitter glue! Cardboard paper! Colored pencils! Crayons! Especially the crayons! They're everywhere! You know that!"
"A kid took a dump in the playplace," you say, sighing, "I had to carry a dustpan full of poop to the trash and wash off the dustpan. I still have to use it! Now there's turd stains on it!"
Sun's head twitches to the side, "I'm... going... to... GAHHHHH!!!"
It dramatically collapses to the ground and punches it in anger.
"Next time someone poops in here I'm going to TURN THE LIGHTS OFF!!"
It roared the last words, as if it was something it wanted to say for the longest time. You didn't understand, you knew you had to keep the lights on in the daycare at all times, but you assumed that was due to issues with the lights. Yet... There must be something bad that happens when the lights turn off.
Yet you didn't ask, it wasn't your place to ask.
"I fucking hate it here," I say, "Forced to do all this shit! I didn't uproot my life and move all the way to Utah for this!"
"YES! EXACTLY!" Sun screams, "I feel the same way, because I was meant to be a stage performer!"
It suddenly clicks to you. You snap your head up to Sun, looking at it with understanding eyes.
"So was I!" I said, "I was meant to be in a movie, but it got canceled last minute, so I'm here now, stuck in the middle of bumfuck nowhere working a shitty job at a shitty pizza place, forced to clean up puke and shit while the facility around me is kept up by a paperclip and a dream!"
Sun let out a giddy cheer, its head spinning in place as it does a little dance, "Ooh I've been wanting to get that off my chest for a while!"
You sighed a sigh of relief, "Fuck Fazbear Entertainment," you say. Sun turns to you.
"Fuck Fazbear Entertainment,"