"This bitch just hung up on me," you huffed.

"Be-because he's sma-art," Foxy sneered, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms.

"I ought to call that bitch back and then hang up on him in spite," you grumbled, staring at your phone.

"Don't-on't waste your time." Foxy waved his hand.

"You're right!" You pointed your finger up. "I can use it to try to get Candy Cadet to tell me the rest of his story!"

". . . Sure-ure," Foxy jeered, giving you an unamused look.

You ran over to Candy Cadet, making Helpy's eyes open. You smiled and waved to him as he waddled his way towards you. He handed the tablet up to you.

"Thank you, bud," you chuckled, patting him on the head.

"I am Candy Cadet, come get your candy here. I have candy all day, every day. Candy. Candy. Candy." You turned the knob and a piece of candy dropped out. "Return to Candy Cadet again, and maybe I will tell you a story?"

"Dangit!"

"What-what's wrong?" Freddy wondered.

"I want to hear the rest of his story," you huffed, grabbing the piece of candy and plopping it in your mouth.

"I am Candy Cadet, come get your candy here. I have candy all day, every day. Candy. Candy. Candy." You turned the knob again, receiving another piece of candy. "Return to Candy Cadet again, and maybe I will tell you a story?"

"Dangit," you hissed, before reactivating Candy Cadet's dialogue, twisting the knob, and grabbing your candy.

"Return to Candy Cadet again, and maybe I will tell you a story?"

"Dangit," you mumbled under your breath.

"Is-is this what you-ou do all day?" Foxy sneered.

"No," you snapped, turning the knob again. "I only get 10 Play Tokens a day."

"Return to Candy Cadet--"

"So, if there was-wasn't a limit, y-you'd be doing this-is all day?"

"Well . . . until I hear all of Candy Cadet's story."

Foxy started laughing, making you grunt. You shoved more candy in your mouth, munching on it angrily.

You continued to play test Candy Cadet, losing hope as your Play Tokens dwindled. At your last token, you took in a deep breath and turned the knob. You gulped as your piece of candy dropped out.

". . . Now I will tell you a story--"

"AH!" you squealed, making Molten Freddy jump.

"--about a little boy. He had a red snake that he kept in a metal cage whose hunger could not be satisfied."

"Wait, but--"

"One day, the boy found five baby kittens outside his house. He brought them inside and kept them in a shoebox."

"Aww--"

"He knew that the snake might kill them, but could not bring himself to get rid of the snake. He knew that if he chose one kitten to feed to the snake, it might be satisfied, but he could not choose. So, he went to bed, leaving the cage open. The snake went to the shoebox, chose a kitten at random, and ate it. After five nights had gone by, the boy was full of regrets, and cut the snake open. He pieced the remains together and put the kitten back into the shoebox . . ."

Air horns blared from Helpy as shock remained on your face. Fireworks burst on the tablet screen, indicating a performance bonus. You stared at Candy Cadet, still mortified and saddened.

"Well-ell then . . . that's got me fe-feline sad," Foxy snickered.

". . ." You glared at him disapprovingly, knowing that words weren't needed.

"Yeah, I-I-I know. That was aw-ful. Probably was-asn't the 'cat-at's meow,' " Foxy joked, grinning stupidly; you rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore him.

". . . Those were all my Play Tokens for today, then. I guess, now all I've got to do is wait for James to get here. I'm definitely not setting all these chairs out on my own."

"We can-an-an help!" Freddy offered.

"Uhh, I'd rather you didn't. It'd give us something to do when he gets here, instead of telling him to 'drop it' every few minutes." You scratched the back of your neck.

"You-ou don't need t-to worry a-bout that with me-e around. I'll make-ake sure he-e-e keeps his m-mouth shut," Foxy boasted, 'cracking' his knuckles.

"I can handle it myself, Fox-butt," you brushed him off and received a huff.

You shuffled over to where the cart of chairs were, making Foxy watch you curiously. You grabbed a chair, dragged it to the closest table, and turned it around. You plopped down into it as you grabbed your phone from your pocket.

"What-at are you do-ing?" Freddy asked, swinging to stand behind you.

"Playing on my phone in the meantime," you murmured, lying your arm across the back of the chair and resting your chin on it.

"You've cat-at-at to be kitten-en me!" Foxy gasped dramatically.

"Shut the fuck up!" you laughed, pushing him away; he laughed with you.

~ ~ ~ ~

You mindlessly scrolled through social media as Molten Freddy crawled back and forth along the ceiling to entertain themselves. Your attention was suddenly drawn when you heard rumbling outside. You looked behind you, to see a car stop by the front doors.

"There we are," you muttered as James stepped out of the car.

"What?" Molten Freddy wondered, seeing as you were standing up.

"What do you mean 'what?' " you sneered, glancing back at them, "You guys are deaf as a doorknob."

". . . Wha-at? What d-does that mea-ean?" Freddy blabbered.

"Hm?"

"'Deaf as a doorknob'?"

"Yeah, it's- . . . like . . . super deaf."

"Is a door-knob s-super deaf?" Freddy questioned.

"Wh- No. It's just a saying! I don't know why that's how it is!" you ranted, throwing your arms up.

"O-okay. Th-th-that's okay," Freddy mumbled, cowering some.

"Um, what's going on in here?" a familiar voice wondered.

You and Molten Freddy looked over, to see James standing in the doorway. Foxy took over, glaring at him.

"You-ou-ou--"

"Nothing. Anyway, let's get ready. I waited until you got here to start anything."

"Thanks, I guess . . ."

You started grabbing chairs and setting them out at the tables. James looked over to you, scrunching his eyebrows.

"Can we talk, maybe?"

Instead of replying, you gave him a quick glare. Foxy growled, shooting daggers at him and making him lower his head.

The pizzeria fell silent as you continued to set up the chair. Helpy waddled up next to you, attempting to help you. You giggled, patting his head. You gasped, widening your eyes.

"Oh! James! Candy Cadet told me a story! It wasn't the rest of the first one, but it was another one. It was so sad! It was about these five kittens," you rambled on excitedly.

"What's sad about five kittens?" James chuckled, smiling softly.

"Well, there was also a little boy and a snake--"

You continued on, James nodding his head every time you paused to make sure you knew he was listening. Foxy squinted at him suspiciously and folded his arms.

~ ~ ~ ~

You checked the time on your phone: 8:35 p.m. It was nearing the end of the day, but you had yet to see Michael. You hummed to yourself.

"I hope I didn't scare him off," you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck.

"Who-o? Michael?" Molten Freddy, who stood on your shoulder as a butterfly, wondered.

"Yeah." You nodded, looking over to them.

"I'm pretty-pretty sure you did-n't. He's seen some th-things way scarier," Foxy assured you, chuckling.

"Hey, I can be scary," you grumbled poutingly.

"Of-of c-course," he snickered.

You huffed, looking up from your shoulder. You watched a group of people leave out the front doors. There were only a few customers in the pizzeria now. Just as you were about to turn around, you noticed a hooded figure walk in. It was Michael.

"Oh, there he is. Michael!" you called to him.

He looked up wide-eyed, and upon seeing you, lowered his head to avoid the stares and shuffled over to you. "Hi."

"Hey, I'm really sorry about earlier. It was a little uncalled for," you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck.

"Oh, that's okay. I--" Michael stopped after looking up at you--"Uh- I'm not sure if you've already noticed, but there's a butterfly on your shoulder."

"Oh, yeah." You looked over to Molten Freddy. "They're my little buddy."

"Oh. They're cute."

"Fuckin' cour-ourse I--" Foxy started to mumble under his breath.

"Heh, yes, they are."

". . . Shut-ut-ut up, you-ou f-f-fuck," Foxy grumbled in a fluster, almost making you laugh.

"Anyway, I can understand. My father's a ba- . . . Uh, I mean, he's not a very nice person." Michael cleared his throat.

"Yeah, I know," you sneered. "Er- You still want to apply for the job, yeah?"

"Certainly."

"Alrighty. Give me a sec' to get the application. I'll be right back."

He nodded as you turned around. You walked over to the salvage room and opened the door. You turned on the light and jumped, seeing as there was an animatronic sitting across the table: it was a black bear, similar in design to the ones that stood on stage in the pizzeria.

"Who the hell- Oh, probably James. Wait, was I supposed to salvage it . . ? Oops."

You shrugged, grabbing the clipboard off the table and flipping the lights back off. You shuffled back over to where Michael had been waiting.

"Here's an application to fill out. I won't be far, so you can call me over when you've finished," you suggested.

"Okay. Thank you," he murmured as you handed him the clipboard.

You nodded and walked off. He sat down at one of the tables, starting to fill out the paper. You walked towards James, who looked up to you and raised his eyebrows.

"Yo, James, was I supposed to have salvaged that animatronic?" you wondered, stopping in front of him.

"What animatronic?" James scratched the back of his head.

"The black one in the salvage room," you mentioned, pointing back towards the room.

"I didn't put that in there. How long's it been there?"

"I don't know, but it had to be one of us." You shrugged, making James hum in thought. "What, you think it walked there itself?"

James looked to Molten Freddy. ". . . You know, I honestly don't think that's implausible."

"Well, I guess you're not wrong."

". . . So, I saw this animatronic on sale online. Should we get it?" James brought up.

"What kind of animatronic?" you questioned, glancing around the pizzeria to see how many people were left.

"It's this cream-colored deer. Her name's--"

"Woah, woah. Is it a Fazbear's animatronic?"

"Well, no- But, I thought a new face may interest the customers. And like I said, it's on sale," James mumbled, trailing off.

"Uhh . . ." You looked back to the four animatronics that stood on the stage. "I don't think we've got enough room."

"Oh, okay. I just figured I should ask--" James stopped himself and looked behind you, to which you turned around.

"Oh, sorry to interrupt--"

"Nah, it's cool. Did you finish filling out the application? Or do you have any questions about something?"

"I finished filling it out." He nodded and handed you the clipboard.

"Ah, okay. I'll look this over real quick, if you want to- Oh, wait! Michael, this is James."

"Nice to meet you, Michael." James put his hand out and Michael shook it. "(Y/N) and I are partners."

"Y- Er, business partners."

"Right. I'd be your other boss."

"Remember, though, that I'm top boss," you snickered, winking.

Michael smiled and James folded his arms, giving you an unamused look. You stuck out your tongue, sneering.

"Anyway," you chuckled, "you can have a seat at one of the tables, or something, as I look over this."

"Will do."

You scanned over the paper as he walked back to the table he was sitting at. You started to think that there wasn't much needed to look over the application, since you thought you were going to hire him anyway, until you saw what position he was wanting to apply for.

"Oh no," you mumbled under your breath.

"What's wrong?" James and Molten Freddy almost said simultaneously.

"He wants to work the night shift," you hummed.

"What's wrong with that?" James wondered.

"Well, that would probably mean he'd need to be in the office, and . . . I've been staying in the office," you explained, scratching the back of your neck.

"How about . . . moving in with me?" James suggested nervously.

"How-ow about 'n-n-no'?" Foxy sassed as you glared at James.

He cleared his throat and looked away. Foxy grumbled to himself, mocking James. You looked down to the floor, putting your finger to your chin in thought.

"Why don't you let him work the night shifts, so you can get the sleep you need?" he suggested.

"Where am I supposed to sleep, though?" You put up your hands in a shrug.

"You can sleep in my truck, since you won't give it back," he advised, mumbling the last part.

"You can have it back."

"Oh, it wasn't meant to be snarky--"

"No, no. I shouldn't have done that. It wasn't right . . ."

"Are-are you r-really--"

"Here," you interrupted Foxy, grabbing the keys from your pocket and handing them to James.

"How are you going to get anywhere, though?" James worried.

"How would you without Savannah driving you?" you countered, raising an eyebrow somewhat smugly. "I can just walk to a gas station if I need something, anyway."

"I guess you have a point. But I had just offered somewhere for you to sleep. Where are you going to now?" James folded his arms, huffing.

"Hm . . . I'll figure something out. If it comes down to it, I'll just take Freddy's offer." You shrugged.

"What was Freddy's offer?"

"Yeah, wh-what was hi-is offer?"

"To use him as a hammock."

"Oh, ri-ight--"

"How would that work?" James questioned, tilting his head.

"That's exactly what I was thinking!" you mentioned.

"Uh, g-guys, Michael's still-ill wait-ing for an-an an-swer," Foxy butted in, clearly annoyed.

"Oh, right. Mm- . . . I guess he can work the night shift . . . because I apparently need all the beauty sleep I can get."

"It wasn't meant to be an insult."

"Pfft- I know."