A/N:
THE LAST OF THE THREE DAMN OCs I CREATED FOR THIS UNIVERSE. DAMMIT. AWESOME PICTURE PROVIDED BY oralite, YOU ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED AND ADORED, I CANNOT EVEN HECKING PUT IT INTO WORDS.
(Though, her scars are concealed usually ;3)
Enjoy!

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Uncomfortable Phone Guy paced around, a certain panic in every single of his movements. Following the lawsuit he had been expecting a certain message and he was deeply fearful.
The message would come. Naturally it would. It HAD to come.
Then again... maybe... the court probably just wanted to forget about it and...
... Old Sport wouldn't talk, would he?
Not on purpose.
Probably.
But... Old Sport knew about the exchange of Phone Guys, didn't he?
That all he had to do was messaging the Factory detailing the fuck-up and requesting a new version and then he was done here.
With here he meant on earth.
Probably.
Why was he this unsure?
Shouldn't he know what would happen if he was called back?
Should he turn himself in and make it easy for himself...?
Would that change anything?
Slowly he walked around and ensured that party hats and plates were placed everywhere, their glitter filling the whole place with a colorful atmosphere. Papersnakes hung from the ceiling and for a moment Phoney was sure he could hear someone giggle.
Nervous he looked around, but it was Funtime Chica talking to Freddy, seemingly having a good time.
Who came up with the cursed idea of giving that animatronic a childish laugh?!
Anxious he approached them, but put on his best fake smile, hoping it would tone his voice friendly and calm. "You two... what are you talking about, hm?"
Again Chica giggled smiling friendly at the nervous man. "Freddy told me about how he wrestled with a group of children and won!"
The bear crossed all his arms in a skeptic movement, looking at him. "Are you doing okay?"
"Hm?!" He laughed, a hint of hysteria in his voice. "I'm fine! What are you talking about? Chipper as can be! But I got to make sure that you are ready for today's performance! C-can't have you break down while a party is going on, can I?!"
"But Phone Guy, sir, we are fine-" Chica began friendly, though Freddy interrupted.
"I have a problem if you already ask... I mean, it isn't a PROBLEM, I think it only enhances my beauty to be NOT fully perfect, BUT... IF YOU ASK... I GUESS I H A V E TO tell you..." He made with one hand a dismissive movement, while the others stemmed into his hip. "I can rotate my head all the way around and I think it might get loose... and while it is nice to snap my head around to whoever is talking shit behind my back, I think it's not worth the risk of accidently making a fool out of myself when I can't control where I look."
"U-uh... you're right...!" Heck, he didn't expected there to ACTUALLY be a darn problem. Ship. What was he supposed to do now? "Then uh... how about you come with me to the parts and services room?"
"Don't have much of a choice, do I?" Freddy walked past him, swinging his hips. "If you scratch my precious body, I can and will maul you."
"I... will keep it in mind..." How reassuring. Why couldn't the animatronics not be NICE for a few weeks?! They weren't even possessed-
Breaking his line of thought he took a deep breath and tried to stay positive. He would repair the animatronic, then he would open the restaurant and it would all be acceptable and good and there would be no problems at all.
No problems at all.
They arrived in the backroom and unsure Phoney looked at the tools surrounding him. Wait, how would he even figure out which one of these tools had to be used?
How would he know what even was wrong...?
Couldn't be so hard, right?
No. This was fine.
Carefully he raised the machine's head up and it was obvious that somebody has already attempted to fix it, but seemingly not with enough care to keep it fixed for too much longer.
For a second he paused.
It had been fixed with chewed gum.
Goddammit, Dave.
Slightly disgusted he tried to get rid of the stuff, smart enough not to mention it to the sensitive machine. Who knew what he would do if he mentioned it.
"This might take a small while, uh... do you know per chance what the problem is...?" A sliver of hope sounded in his voice, but it was naturally instantly crushed.
"You're the damn staff, YOU should know it! Why should I know?! Why should I CARE?!" The machine huffed. "Now get it done!"
"I- Yessir." With a small defeated sigh he looked around for parts hoping to find something looking RIGHT in some way. Looking... appropriate. As if it fits.
But it was hard, seeing as if it wasn't too obvious what could fit and what couldn't. Careful he grabbed a few parts and tried carefully to fit it in, fearful to break anything on the machine.
Weren't there blueprints around?
"What's taking so long!?" Freddy hissed.
"Uh, I- I think we have the wrong... this part isn't, uh..." Panicked the man put the piece back and tested something else if it managed to replace whatever had broken before. "Let me just get-"
"What are you doing?" Old Sport had wandered in and curiously leaned over to watch his action, making the Phone squeal.
"O-oh, sir! I- You know- eh..." He could probably tell him, right? It wasn't his fault. "There's... something broken with Rockstar Freddy's head... I'm trying to fix it."
Surprised Old Sport raised an eyebrow. "You can repair robots?"
"... Not really." He admitted and stepped back.
"Would have been weird!" Sportsy smiled and took over. "Usually your kind isn't really technically savvy! I mean, MOST. Not all, one of them really gave me some good tips..."
A bit lost in thoughts OS picked the right part and began repairing the headpiece. It had been... a damn lifetime since he was taught how to deal with robots. A fair chunk he had to teach himself, for example how to get yourself of a criminal data-record... but he had been taught.
Funnily enough, it had been a Phone Guy who took care of that, despite his busy schedule. One of his first jobs as... soul-saver or whatever he had become.
What had he become?
For a moment he paused, staring into the tangled mess of the endoskeleton in front of him, then he glanced at his employee who anxiously stood by, watching him closely, as if to imprint the image of the repair into his brain.
If he had a brain?
No, wait, Phone Guys didn't have brains. Not in an insulting way, but in a literal-
Ah, whatever, he didn't say it out loud.
"So, Phoney... why didn't you ask me right away?" He felt like a bit of small-talk, especially since something inside of him was hurting and he hoped to distract himself from the fact that maybe after all his years his lungs have decided to dissolve.
"I- you're- you're the boss... you shouldn't be forced to do these things..." Uncertain the phone uttered, obviously uncomfortable.
"Well, what else should I be forced to do?" Snickering Old Sport shook his head. "I took this damn job to be busy again, so... doing nothing but sitting in front of a computer and ordering a few items is kinda against the point, isn't it?"
"I guess..." Feeling a bit helpless and useless the man changed weight from one foot to another, until out of the blue OS began talking again.
"Do you need another employee?" His voice was quiet and for a split second Phone Guy felt threatened.
"N-no, sir! Why would I?!"
"Oh... you seem a bit stressed, you know? I mean, Dave somewhat counts as employee... but I don't know, he's doing more harm than good in most of the cases. The other animatronics are doing a fine job entertaining the guests and keeping the restaurant in check too, but... they are hard to order around, aren't they? Back at my last joint we were pretty much only five employees, counting Phone Guy, so I presumed since we were a smaller establishment we wouldn't need any employees really anyways."
"It's... actually... I mean, at least I don't have to make sure that the other employees are behaving, so I have at least that weight off my shoulders!" Laughing a bit forced Phoney scratched his arms. "It's... okay. Most of the time I have to take care of the prize corner, seeing as nobody else does it... but it's a pretty relaxed thing to do, I won't complain!"
Chuckling OS returned Rockstar Freddy's head back in place and tested if it was tight. "You mean you weren't mugged by a group of armed toddlers? Happened to me each and every single damn time I worked behind the counter-"
The door had been open for quite a while, since OS had entered, it provided the room with sufficient lighting... and now something had moved by it.
They turned around to see a bunny-man standing there, his whole appearance dark against the light that came from behind. The only bright thing coming from it were its glowing eyes. "Havin' fun?"
Dave's words were strangely apathetic, unlike his usual manic voice. Instantly fearful Phoney stepped away from his boss, having a pretty good grasp on what set the man off this badly. "U-uh, we were just... looking after Freddy... Y-you know, the animatronic you tried to repair with CHEWED GUM?"
The last part sounded accusingly, or at least as accusing as he could with the amount of fear in his voice.
"WHAT? GUM-" Freddy squeaked insulted, but was ignored.
"What the problem... BOSS? It fuckin' was enough, wasn't it? No problems comin' from that!" His smile was back, but somehow it was even worse.
"I- I mean, it worked, but-"
"But what, hm?! It ain't good enough, I see. Nothin's fucking good enough for you!" He sounded almost enraged and at this point Old Sport stepped in.
"Davetrap, calm down- you're gonna trigger those springlocks if you moisturize them by screaming so much... thank you for taking care of Rockstar Freddy for the time, but we had to properly-"
"TAKING CARE!?" Freddy screeched. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, TAKING CARE!? HE RUINED MY FUR-"
"You don't even have fur at that point, Freddy!" Old Sport shot back, a tad tired of his shit.
"BUT CLOSE ENOUGH! THINK OF ALL THE BACTERIA! WHAT IF I GET SICK?!"
"You're a robot, you CAN'T get sick!"
"SO?! IT'S STILL RUDE TO DO THAT TO ME! TO RISK THE HEALTH OF YOUR STAR PREFORMER! I SHOULD REFUSE TO PERFORM TODAY, SO YOU CAN SEE HOW LUCKY YOU ALL ARE FOR HAVING ME!" Freaking out the bear snapped around, staring at the workers accusingly.
"O-Oh, I beg of you, Freddy-" Phoney whined. "It isn't our fault! We wouldn't have allowed that to happen- Davetrap is a bit of a- you know-"
Uncertain he turned to the bunny, scared of trigger him with some of his words, but Dave had already left. Not a good sign.
Despite that, the manager only rolled his eyes again and patted the Phone. "He's probably going to pout, don't mind it. Let's get our star fixed up and then I'll try to calm him down."
"I-isn't he already fixed?" Slightly confused Phoney looked back and forth between the animatronic and the door.
"EXCUSE ME, I NEED TO BE WAXED AND POLISHED!" Freddy had thrown his head back and was screeching loudly. "AFTER BEING THIS TAINTED IT'S THE LEAST I DESERVE!"
Old Sport and Phoney both winced at the loud sound and then looked at each other, before going to work.
Sometime later, it felt like hours or at least the amount of complaining Freddy did should require hours to get out, at least for a normal human being - Then again, machines were better at everything, why not at complaining?
Anyways, said time later they finally escaped the backroom and Freddy's clutches and for Phoney it was more than time to open the restaurant. The Orange Guy hurried over to his... "friend", who seemingly had calmed down and shrugged as he was told something.
It still gave Phoney the spooks the way Dave glanced at him.
There was something incredibly demented in his expression, it had something animalistic.
A day outside, god as he happy to get out, they took him to the zoo, he was excited, his sister wasn't too invested, but even she smiled at him, he took his mom's hand, he wanted to see colorful birds and giraffes and-
They walked through the place, he stopped to look into what seemed to be an empty one- until he saw the eyes staring back at him from the mud.
It was the only thing that had moved, the only thing that had given it away, but now it had stopped, now it had found him and it wouldn't even blink, it wouldn't move anymore, the next time it would move it would-
He was yanked away-
"Excuse me, is the prize corner open?"
A woman had approached him, her daughter at her hand, snapping the guy out of the weird memory. Shortly he glanced at the wall where Dave had been standing, but he as well as Old Sport had vanished. As he looked around, he saw him in the distance, interacting with a group of children.
His attention returned to the customers in front of him. "U-uh... why yes! It's open! What... what can I give to you?"
The girl shyly put her Tokens on the counter. "F-foxy plush..."
Friendly he handed her the desired toy and watched them walk off. Well, time to return to the normal routine... it wasn't good to allow himself to get distracted.
Wouldn't help his case to be an unreliable worker, would it?
Ha, ha, wouldn't want to be labeled as defective and inefficient!
Wouldn't want to be labeled as negative and harmful to the business!
He was a chipper guy! He was a great employee!
Right?
A valuable asset? Correct?
Surely Old Sport would NEVER feel the need to inform-
"Mr. Cawthon... quite early for a lawsuit, wasn't it?"
-
The computer flickered as the manager of this fucked up business leaned over it, frowning in confusion. He had gotten a new e-mail that said it was an answer of an e-mail he had send himself... but he couldn't remember ever sending any e-mail!
Quickly he skimmed over the message.
'We have received your message and are very sorry about the unsatisfying results that your current Phone Guy provides. Your interest in our program has been registered and we will send a representative within the next 24 hours.'
Well, if that wasn't ominous and confusing.
Next he checked the written e-mail that apparently came from him.
'Eyyo wazzup, my phoney is shit, gimme a new one.'
Great.
No, really, it was great!
He had never stuck around long enough to have a run-in with the factory, so he was fairly interested in what the place had to offer.
A hint of pity brushed past him as it probably would stress out the Phone beyond all believe and may or may not would kill him if the factory just came by...
...
... finally he sighed and accepted he wasn't allowed to let that happen.
Not under any circumstances. Well- most circumstances.
Unmotivated he checked his list of tasks left to do and after finishing what was he able to do at that moment, he shut down the computer and strolled towards the main area to warn his Phone about his approaching demise- I mean, the POSSIBLITY of trouble.
Seemingly Phoney was busy at the moment, he was talking to a woman who-
... seemed slightly out of place?
She was wearing a fairly formal jacket- business type of clothing, a thin scarf and sunglasses.
But that wasn't the only-
OH!
Oh.
The Phone Guy had goosebumps.
That was the odd thing.
He joined them, somewhat curious. "O H S H I T W A D D U P ?"
The woman as well as Phone Guy turned to look at him, the woman smiled and Phoney, despite having no face was radiating the nervous energy of a wide-eyed rabbit cornered.
Interesting, considering that the person beside him was smaller and seemingly more fragile than the poor employee.
Her voice sounded warm. "You are the owner, I presume? Old Sport?" Then she frowned shortly, mildly confused. "Or... Jack?"
"Old Sport." Now feeling somewhat uneasy himself he inspected her again. "And who are you, mon petite baguette?"
For a moment she stared, then she giggled, shaking her head in disbelieve.
"What great way to greet me, mon vieux gateau." Her French seemed fluid. "Please call me Juliette. After all, you are part of the family, correct?"
"Being part of the Fazbear Family? Don't you fucking dare making me legally liable for your actions!" Ain't having any of that shit.
"Oh my, Old Sport, that is no way to talk about your family... only seeing the negative aspects of it..." Her voice kept friendly. "... but onto business! You have messaged us with the intent of exchanging your Phone Guy?"
"Well, it wasn't technically me and uh..." Shortly he stopped and glanced at his worker, who made a pathetic whimper noise. "... it was kinda a joke."
"A joke?" Interested she tilted her head. "Would you mind introducing me to the person who would consider that funny...?"
"It's-" A worker? An animatronic? How could he classify Dave?
"IT'S ME, BBY!" Dave slithered in, smiling brightly at the unfamiliar person THAT WAS TALKING TO HIS SPORTSY AS IF SHE HAD ANY RIGHT TO-
He bowed and the paper plate he had stuck into his ears fell out and onto the floor, spelling Y I F F M E D A D D Y.
What a coincidence, the world was truly a weird place.
She had frozen up, then she smiled once more and clapped her hands. "Spring Bonnie! It has been AGES!"
"Wowie laddie, you must be an old fucking hag if you've been around since those times." Dave said that without even hesitating. Juliette looked back at him and for a moment it stayed silent, before she shook her head.
"I dare to say this goes for both of us." Her voice was mildly serious, but didn't appear insulted. "Despite your fallout in manners, I still must admit to being delighted to see you again... where did you find him?"
The last part had been directed at Old Sport who shrugged. "You know how it is... you open one Freddy's and all the murder furries come to you."
"Hm... interesting. I must admit it is a relief to finally know what has happen to him..." With that the topic of Dave seemed to have been finished in her mind. "You mentioned that the e-mail had been intended to be in jest, but... since I am already here, how about I take a quick check up off your Phone? It seems to be unusually nervous. That is not good, seeing as they were made to interact with customers and letting them suffer under some sort of social anxiety is nothing but cruel and reasonless."
There came some panicked beeps form the Phone Guy, who was obviously fearful. "I- But I feel great! I'm doing f-fantastic!"
"Didn't sound like it from the reports..."
"W-WHICH REPORTS?!" Betrayed he looked over at OS, seemingly expecting him to have said something causing him this trouble. That OS might have complained.
"Your scans. Whenever your stress-level spikes it gets transmitted and saved in the backlog at the factory." She explained it calmly, as if she wasn't talking about having access to someone's brain. "Usually this only happen shortly after a... tragedy and it is a dead give-away that a restaurant will soon be closed. You though spike quite frequently, much to my and my worker's confusion. This is not healthy and probably not very pleasant, correct?"
Backing up slowly, it almost appeared as if Phoney wanted to run away. "I- I just- I'm- h-heh, I'm just- a ball of n-nervousness—h-haha! I'm- I care too much! Ha! But- that- it's not t-too bad! Right!?"
"But dear Scott... you seem quite unhappy to me." Friendly she smiled. "Your health and condition is within my responsibility, this amount of stress could lead to irreparable damage in the future. Something we ALL want to avoid."
Feeling weirdly a weird sort of disconnect in the way the woman was talking with him about him, he shook his head and tried to get his pumping heart under control. "U-uh... well- I- but it might n-not lead to damage, right?"
She took out some sort of tablet and checked something, while humming. "Dear, you seem to have a panic attack... are you afraid of me? Did I do something wrong?"
It was just the way her voice stayed constantly pleasant and polite, despite talking about messing with his self that was getting under his skin. "N-No, of course not, I just- uh... prefer that... I would rather... NOT...?"
"Not what?" Raising an eyebrow she glanced at him.
"Uh... you know... uhm... threaten me...?" Uncomfortable he moved around fearing that he might had insulted her.
"Dear, how did I threaten you?" She seemed honestly confused.
"I- I don't- the factory- I can't- if you-" At this point he began to slightly shiver.
"You would be merely rewired to rid you of your troubles, your fear is unreasonable." Finally there was a hint of dismissiveness. "If you could compare how you feel before and after, I am certain you would be delighted and thankful. But nonetheless, I respect your opinion... but the choice isn't yours to make."
They both looked at Old Sport who was feeling a bit put on the spot. "Well... if he doesn't want to, then I GUESS-"
"He has no idea what is good for him." Juliette insisted. "An unstable Phone Guy can grow dangerous to himself and those around him."
"Who isn't! Even you with your dangerous good looks!" Rapidly OS winked, but Juliette just softly shook her head, not even changing expression.
"I am talking about a possible shooting. You are deciding on the life on a lot of families with this..." For a moment she allowed the sentence to linger, then she gave in. "... I will at least do my protocol."
"Whatever makes you smile baby!" Old Sport tried his hardest to make her uncomfortable, but she seemed immune.
Who wasn't immune was Dave, who's expression changed unpleasantly, though you would have a tough time seeing it under the mask. The manager should have thought about it more carefully.
For the moment the storm was simply brewing though for now and Juliette could lead them into the office with no problem. There she turned, frowned shortly and confusedly at the amount of people that had followed, then she seemingly decided it wasn't too important and smiled, taking out an oddly shaped screwdriver.
"Would you be so nice and turn around, so I may open your head and check on you?"
"I- I don't r-really want that, no madam-" Anxiously Phoney stepped back, into Dave who growled quietly, but loud enough to make the man jump. "- I'm fine-!"
"Please, my dear..." She sounded a bit exhausted. "... this will not hurt you. Not to mention your boss will stay at your side at all times and you are perfectly aware during the check-up. I don't mean to hurt you, Scott-"
"PLEASE STOP CALLING ME SCOTT!" His voice broke in the middle of the sentence, it had slipped out, but he couldn't take it anymore. It surprise everybody in the room, including the Phone himself.
"I apologize, I didn't know you... felt such aversion towards it. How would you like to be called then?" A bit taken aback she looked at him.
"I- I'm- uh..." He didn't even expect to come this far. Helpless he looked from person to person. "... I'm just... Phone Guy..."
"Phone Guy. Very well then." She raised the screwdriver again, but didn't move. "Would you now be willing to finally take this mundane step and allow me to quickly check up on your mechanical parts?"
For another moment Phone Guy stayed quiet, some sort of pained expression on his empty face... but finally he made a choked noise of resentful agreement and turned around. "W-will I be able to feel it...?"
"Doubtful." Juliette friendly answered. "After all, you lack active nerves there."
"Active nerves?" A hint of panic was there. "What does that mean?"
"It means that you do have potential connections there so you could feel touches and attacks on it... the problem is why would you want that?" She had opened the complicated contraption and Old Sport stepped closer to see how exactly that thing worked.
"Uh..." Maybe head pats would be nice? "... y-you're right, miss."
Satisfied with that answer she gave a short approving hum as she rummaged around between the cables with trained, delicate fingers. "For what I can see now there seems to be no troubles with your wiring and the parts. On one hand this is a pleasant surprise, but on the other, that means your mindset will be harder to fix."
Carefully she closed it back up.
"M-My mindset is fine! I might be a bit- a bit n-nervous, but I'm- I'm good with customers!" Again he tried to laugh and this time it actually came out somewhat right.
"A relief! How about you present that to me? Maybe I was indeed wrong and misjudge your capabilities to deal with the stress you experience. Which position you usually hold?"
"U-usually? Uh, oh- oh well, usually I take care of the prize corner!" Trying hard to sound energetic, the man stood up a bit straighter.
"The prize corner? Oh right!" Old Sport face-palmed. "Never hired one for that place, did I? Sorry!"
"No problem, sir! H-haha, that's what I'm here for, right?" Smiling brightly, even if nobody saws it, he walked passed them and led them towards his working place, oozing obviously fake confidence.
Nonetheless everybody kept quiet and followed his lead, invested in what the guy would end up like- well, all except Dave, but Dave felt the need to protect what's his.
They arrived at the prize corner and Phoney turned around, looking at the group for a moment, close to asking them to turn away and stop staring at him, but... he knew he had to prove himself in front of all of them.
Uncertain he went behind the counter, still staring at the group of weirdly smiling adults, feeling as though he had done something wrong.
They'd... tell him, right?
Keep- keep on being positive!
He tried to laugh, but it instantly got stuck in the back of his throat, so he gave up on it again.
No need to be nervous, no need to be fearful, he was just doing his job-
"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!" A group of kids ran up who turned out to be Mary and the others. The girl was carrying quite a few tokens and was grinning widely. "I wanna get something!"
"What do you mean YOU want to get something?" Oliver scoffed. "We put together, I have as much a right to choose as you!"
"Yeah, sure!" The girl didn't appear to care much, as she tried to jump to look over the counter for options. "Woah... there are so many options here..."
With a quick kick Phone Guy hid the canister of gasoline so the kids couldn't see it. Chipper he answered. "Yep! We here at Freddy's have everything your heart desires!"
Jumping a bit he turned to Juliette who had giggled lightly, instantly panicking if he had said something wrong. But seemingly not...?
Oliver rolled his eyes. "Well, we can't buy an animatronic, so not EVERYTHING!"
"Ow, stop being a smartass!" Mary punched him lightly in the shoulder, but her eyes kept wandering over the options. "We could get a really rare plushy!"
"Why would we buy a PLUSHY of all things?! Those are boring waste of times! I'd rather have a toy!"
"You always break those kinds of toys within three days!"
Unsure Phoney tapped on the counter, not knowing if he was supposed to intervene or if he would be seen as rude and unprofessional. The uncertainty turned slowly into real deep panic as he remembered that his life was probably on the line right now. "P-please don't fight! Uh... b-be nice! You could- I mean, if you-"
He actually managed to catch the attention of the kids, but probably in one of the worst ways possible. The girl put her hands on her hips and the boy crossed his arms.
"You're weird today." He declared loudly and his sister frantically nodded.
"Are you alright?"
"U-uh... uhm..." He wasn't sure what to say. Keep it together, Phoney, you gotta keep the customers happy and carefree! "W-why, uh... of course! I just- was thinking about, uh... well... uhm..."
"You're definitely weird today." He raised an eyebrow at him.
"Please, h-how about you two... get, uh..." Helpless he rummaged through the many items at the prize corner. "O-oh! Look! A Chica plush-"
He broke off, staring at it.
It was an old doll, something that was probably resold countless times, yet it was clean, almost out-washed. For some reason it filled him with incredible sadness.
A while nothing happened, until someone tugged on him.
"Mr. Phone Guy?" Isaac had stepped closer, appearing worried.
Everybody was staring at him and almost he clutched the plushy closer. "This... Chica Plush... I'd say you should take it."
He leaned forward and handed it to Mary, who accepted it with some sort of weird seriousness. "Thank you..."
For a moment Oliver breathed in and opened his mouth, but it was Isaac who held him back with a mild smile, before he stepped up to the counter and put down his tokens. "I would like a notebook."
"Notebook?" Confused Phoney turned around to look, then he spotted the book he was talking about, it was laying in the back. "Here, you... uh, here you go. W-wait, someone already written on this-"
"That is fine. I would like it anyways!" The boy reached and took the book away. "It is the only one you still have... or...?"
Shortly he checked back between the shelves wondering why they only had that one version. "U-uh... I guess- we need to... uhm... order some."
They only reaction he got from Isaac was soft laughter. "Oh well, until then I will feel very special!"
Oliver interrupted with a hiss. "So I'm the only one who isn't getting anything?! You didn't even give me a choice! I didn't want that stupid Chica plush and neither did Mary-!"
"But I do like it-"
"Shut up! I wanted a real toy!"
"P-Please calm down!" Phoney looked between them. "I- I could- uh..."
Nervous he looked over at the council of adults sitting at a nearby table. Give him a toy and make him happy, or don't give him anything like company policy desired.
Phone Guys couldn't just give out stuff, it was all about the bottom line.
The tension was rising inside of him and while no time at all passed on the outside, inside of him a whole war passed by.
Then he decided he didn't care.
He picked out a small helicopter toy with battery powered controls and handed it to him, surprising the kid pretty greatly. Quietly he laughed. "Uh... can't let you leave with that grim face, eh?"
Surprised he accepted the thing, suddenly all quiet and shy. "... thank- thank you..."
Mary and Isaac snickered quietly and dragged the awkward boy away.
When they were gone, Juliette stood up, smiling polite. "You are very kind, aren't you?"
Anxious he shrugged, but her reaction gave him a tad of hope. "He's... the boy... he's a good boy. Uh... c-couldn't just, uh... let him go like that... I'll- uh- take it... out of my paycheck, or... uh... something..."
"I can appreciate a kind man." She said friendly, nodding slightly at his rationalization, but... then she continued. "...however... this goes against your programming, fairly drastically. Your hesitation period was not long enough. A hesitation period where a Phone Guy overrides protocol in favor of moral coding needs to be for at least forty-five seconds up to three weeks, depending on severity of the decisions potential results. I cannot yet tell if it is your moral and programming that has been messed up or if it has to do with your compliance to authority, but it is most certainly in desperate need for fixing."
She stood up and offered him her hand. "Now, if you would follow me, I think we will take a while to get this sorted out, it is nothing we can handle without the proper equipment..."
The employee stayed frozen and stared down at that hand. Deep down he had known this would end this way. There was nothing he had left to do now, so...
Old Sport stepped between them, taking her hand. "Thank you, but no. I like him this way!"
Tension instantly rose between them, though neither of them stopped smiling. "Dear Old Sport, that is a dangerous decision. Keeping an unstable Phone Guy... I can barely legally allow that."
"Freddy's isn't really know for its legality, is it?"
"That is true, but I have a role to fulfill. This is MY responsibility." Slowly she retracted her hand, inspecting the guy from head to toe. "... I would need to come by a lot more often to check on him if you would insist on keeping him unfixed for the moment."
"Maybe I'd like that!" Old Sport winked rapidly at her and as reaction a smaller, but somewhat more honest- even if slightly baffled and disapproving- smile crossed over her face.
"In that case-"
"No fuckin' way." Dave interrupted, finally sick of it. "I think the Phone got the message, now you can fuck off. We ain't wanting ya here."
Aggressive he tried to stand between the two people, which was horribly hard seeing as they stood quite close to each other. But, they stood far enough for one zombie bunny to fit, so... no biggie, right?
Confused she stepped back and looked at the bunny before deciding to ignore him. "We will see each other soon Orange Guy. I hope you will manage to keep this restaurant in check until then."
"I'm a professional!" Prideful Old Sport grinned and posed, resulting in another chuckle.
"You are most certainly one of the least professional people I have ever seen doing this job. And I have seen quite a few."
Hurt he tilted his head. "But... you barely saw me do anything today!"
"Exactly." She turned away to leave, ignoring Old Sport who shouted after her.
"I WILL SHOW YOU! I WILL HAVE SO MUCH MONEY THAT YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SAY I'M IMPRESSIVE!"
"Sure, sure." And with that she was gone.
Dave hissed, grabbing his boss and snuggling him, this time it was actually partially painful as he went too rough. "Finally that bitch is gone!"
"You were the one inviting her!" He struggled a bit, looking around for his employee worried he was having some sort of breakdown. "Let me go you darn bunster! Because of you I have to care for that traumatized Phone!"
"How about ya don't?!" Again he hissed and clutched him closer.
"Y-you're hurting me Dave!"
The man wheezed and struggled harder, until he was finally let go and stared at. "Okay, Sportsy. Go ahead. Look after him."
For half a second he considered thanking him, but why the fuck would he do that? He had a damn right to walk around how he pleased! Quickly he nodded at his... employee(?) and hasted off towards the office, where he most likely would find his employee.
And correct, the man was sitting in the chair, staring at the deactivated monitor.
"Hey... B U D D Y! Be happy! You aren't getting grinded into metal dust today!" He said cheerfully.
The Phone looked at him silent for a moment, then he laughed. "Haha! Yeah, uh... noticed! That's great!"
"Totally!" He smiled back. They stared at each other until finally Old Sport gave up. "Okay, you're obviously not alright."
"Why- yes I am! I, uh... you don't need to worry! At all! Not in the slightest! H-haha!"
"Phoney... I'm not throwing you out. You know that." For a moment he tried to be serious.
"Y-yes. Sure- I know that! Uh- I would never- You sure wouldn't- wouldn't replace me with a better model!"
"Wouldn't! Would never!"
"Why even would you! I- I'm functioning! I AM functioning!"
"Yep- Phoney, relax! You're part of the team! I wouldn't exchange you for the best of the best and you know it!"
"B-Because exchanging me wouldn't... wouldn't make sense!" There was hysteria in his tone. But Old Sport didn't know how to calm him.
"I'd probably get you killed before I'd exchange you!"
"Thanks sir!"
Awkward they both stayed silent until Old Sport slowly retreated. "Well then... I'll... look after Dave."
"Good idea, sir!" The chipper tone was only unnerving now so Old Sport retreated as fast as he could.
It didn't surprise him when he couldn't find Dave. He was probably pouting.
Correct.
Dave did HIS version of pouting.
He had followed the woman outside and grabbed her right when she passed the alley to the back, quickly muffling any and all noises she tried to make. Somewhat surprising, even to him, but he still was perfectly able to do so, his body responded as if there never had been a forty year break.
It was fairly easy to drag her away, even as she was kicking around.
"Now to ya fuckin' bitch- I thought I'd fuck around and put that fuckin' Phone down a notch, but then YOU show up and be a fucking cunt." He was feeling actually better now. At least one person he could get rid of quick and easy. Finally, some semblance of control.
The woman had stopped fighting and went almost limp in his arms, a confusing reaction. Though- not too unlikely. Quickly he changed the grip and began pushing down on her throat.
Still no sign of struggling.
He tried to push a little bit more, wondering that there was really nothing-
Then she put her hand up onto his arm and SQUEEZED DOWN.
At first he thought nothing at all, except that it was finally her instincts kicking in, until the springlocks in his arms snapped in one ugly CRACK.
Howling in pain he jerked back and was fully pushed back by the woman with more force than he had ever expected to be in that fragile body.
Falling back, he attempted to scramble and standing back up, but that was hard with only one arm. Meanwhile she took off her sunglasses and fixed her hair. Her purple eyes glowed slightly in the dim alley.
"This is no way to treat a lady, is it now?" Her voice sounded like ice and she stepped onto Dave's chest before he could get up, he could instantly feel an unrealistic amount of weight on him. "What a bothersome fiend you turned out to be..."
Just as suddenly as she had pinned him she stepped back again, allowing him to finally get up. "W-What the FUCK are you?!"
"Just when I thought you could not get any ruder..." She sighed and as Dave attempted to jump at her and tear her into pieces, she reached onto a small edge at the side of him, instantly triggering all the springlock at once.
He was down within a second.
Turning around she put her sunglasses back on. "At least one problem dealt with..."
In utter agony Dave shivered and twitched, which in turn only forced the metal bits deeper. How could she have done that?!
Only Phoney's- only people with vast knowledge of the- suits-
Thinking costed an inhuman amount of concentration, something he wasn't able to muster at the current situation. Instead he struggled to move, needing to get back in, to get back to Old Sport-
Yet at every attempt his body lost all strange and he spiraled into a seemingly endless amount of shakes and shivers.
How long he was lying there was a mystery to him.
But at some point finally steps approached and something Orange crouched down next to him.
"O-Old- O-O-Old- SP-s-Sport-" He forced out, until he finally felt the sweet relieve of his friend picking out the shards.
"What did you do?!" The voice sounded actually worried.
Friend.
Worried about him.
Ah...
"I- h-heh- Tried to- take off the h-head..." He lied, not really wanting to admit to having attempted yet another murder. "... w-wanted to scare that bitch of a b-bitch..."
"No you didn't." Old Sport sounded completely certain. "Don't lie to me. What really happened?!"
A pause ensued and helpless Dave whined. "I- accident... Please... I see the light..." He went limp and Old Sport sighed.
He wouldn't get any info out of him like that.
So instead he spend the evening freeing him once more.

----------------------------------------

A/N:
THE LAST OF THE THREE OCs I MADE FOR MY DAMN UNIVERSE.
Though, this MIGHT be the last we ever saw of her... because I am not yet certain where to push her story... eh, anyways.
I hope you enjoyed! °D°
(Oh, and aplogies for the horrible resolution on the pic down below, don't know how to change it)