The next tour came, and Sammy was in a different pose now to scare any recurring tourists. Wow, he really loved this job.
At least, until someone messed it up.
A middle aged old lady was in a tour.
"Is it mounted?" She asked.
"Well, that's what Mr. Afton said." The tour guide told her.
The lady started pulling on the fox head. Sammy clung to it, trying not to move.
"Ma'am, stop!" The tour guide yelled.
"It usually comes off" the woman commented.
Springtrap was clearly panicking from where he was. Sammy kept clinging despite it hurting.
The woman gave a harder tug. Sammy thought she was going to tear her hand off.
He couldn't take it anymore. He jerked his hand back, hissing in pain. He took off the head to examine for damage.
Naturally the entire group started screaming and ran off.
"I told you not to move!" Springtrap yelled at him once the group was out of sight.
"She was going to rip my hand off!"
"Maybe if we just dont move, they'll think nothing ever-"
"Freeze!" Security was here. Springtrap was frozen in place, like a deer in the headlights.
"Come on!" He grabbed his hand -ew, it's all slimy and gross- and ran.
The studio she told himself. We'll be safe.
The entrance from which he came was a hundred feet away.
They weren't going to make it.
With a final leap, the two went in thg he studio of nightmares one last time.