"Oh, calm down, you big baby," you scoffed and nudged his arm playfully.

"I'm--"

Foxy growled as you batted your eyelashes innocently. He looked away, glowering as he crossed his arms.

". . . Al-also, I checked Can-andy Cadet, and the three-ee stories are all he tells," Foxy told you.

"What? Really?" you whined, sitting up.

"Yeah, the 'Five-ive Keys' story, 'Five Orphans' story-y, and th-the 'Five Kittens' story."

"Wait, why are they all 'five' something?"

"I-I don't know! I ju-ust checked to see how-ow many au-dio files were pro-grammed into the th-thing and saw what-at they were ti-tled!"

"Well . . . Thank you."

"Don't-on't do this again!" Foxy started, making a sly smile creep onto your face.

"Aww, so you did all that for me?" you gushed, clasping your hands together and holding them by your head.

"God damn it, (Y/N)!" Foxy roared, wires spreading out to make him appear larger. "If-if you don't shut the fu-uck up, I'm going to shove all-all of these u-up your--"

Ballora interrupted him, "Hey, now--"

"You're an-an all star," Freddy started to sing, and you burst out in laughter, "ge-et your game o-on!"

Baby facepalmed and sighed as you started to wheeze. Freddy giggled, and you held your stomach as it started to hurt.

"Oh my god!" you laughed, wiping a tear away. "Freddy, you're a genius!"

"Gen-enius?" Foxy sneered. "Freddy is no-o-ot a fucking, 'gen-ius!' He's the-the farthest thing fro-om a fuckin', genius! He-e's a god damn mor-on!"

"Foxy, I don't-on't believe that's ver-ery nice," Ballora calmly interfered. "Think a-bout how he feel-eels about you-ou saying that."

"Like I-I-I care." Foxy rolled his eyes.

"You know, Foxy, I really don't like hearing my Fredbear cussing like a sailor--"

"Yeah, well, fu-uck you. Too bad," Foxy mumbled under his breath.

"--and Ballora, your formal-like way of speaking just sounds too odd in his voice."

"Oh, I a-pologize. I su-suppose I can't-an't help it," Ballora murmured; you couldn't tell whether she was being sarcastic or not.

"What-at are you go-ing to do about it? Figure out-out a way to fix it?" Foxy sassed.

"Actually, that's exactly what I plan to do."

"What- How-ow exactly do-o you plan to do tha-at?"

"I'm gonna do what you said: 'Figure out a way to fix it.' "

"(Y/N), un-less you know how-ow to rewire and-and work with e-lectro-nics and all that-at shit, I don't see how y-you're going to 'fig-igure' it out," Foxy insisted as he lowered next to you.

"Well- . . . Hmm- I may not know about all that sh- stuff--" You tapped your chin--"but I bet Michael knows about it."

The sound of the front doors made everyone turn. You stood up from your chair, glancing to the rest. As you opened the door, you saw Michael and James walking into the pizzeria.

"Hey, right on time, guys!" you announced as you left the office, and their heads turned to you. "We were just talking about you!"

"Oh no--" James started.

"Well, really, it was Michael we were talking about," you replied, scratching the back of your neck.

"Oh?" Michael tilted his head as James sighed in relief.

"Yeah, uh, I'd like to ask a favour of you," you admitted nervously.

"And what's that?"

"Well, you already know this, but Molten Freddy's voice box is broken; and, I know--well, I'm assuming--you'd know how to fix it; and I'm wondering if there would be a way to separate the voices so I can hear Freddy's voice when he's talking, Ballora's when she's talking, and Foxy when he is."

"Well, first, to fix their voice box, I'd need to know what's wrong with it. Second--" Michael crossed his arms and thought for a moment--"Hmm . . . They 'take control' when they're talking, so there has to be a 'switch' that determines who it is that's in control--"

"If it helps any, their eye turns orange when Freddy's talking, it's purple when Ballora's talking, and it's yellow when Foxy's talking," you added, hoping he could use that in some way.

"That can help a lot," Michael assured you, and you smiled. "I'll need to check their voice box to figure out what's wrong with it, whenever you'd like me to."

"We could do that right now, if you're feeling up to it," you uttered softly, not wanting to make him feel pressured.

He nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I can do that--"

"Hold-old up--" Foxy poked out of the office--"I-I don't get a s-say in this?"

"Nope," you snickered, looking back at him with a smile.

Foxy opened his mouth, about to say something, before closing it and blushing lightly as you closed your eyes and playfully stuck your tongue out at him. You then opened your eyes and tilted your head, as if to ask if he was okay with it. Foxy rolled his eyes, starting towards the salvage room.

"Thank you~" you sang.

"Shut-ut up," he grumbled, crossing his arms as he lowered his head.

"So, Michael," you began, turning to look at him, "I don't know how long it'll take, but you can make a list of things that you would need to fix it--if you don't mind--and I can go get them later."

"I don't mind at all."

"Hey, so if we're ready, I'll go ahead and flip the sign on the doors here."

"Well, I'll probably be in the salvage room for a while, so . . . (Y/N)?"

"Yep, I'm ready."

~ ~ ~ ~

"Alright, so," you started as James flipped the sign, "James, can I borrow your truck to go out and get the things on the list? You and Michael can put things up here, while I'm out."

"Yeah, just don't crash it," James joked, tossing you his keys.

"Yeah, let's not make that joke," you snapped, glaring at him as you caught the keys and clipped them to your jeans.

"Right, sorry." James cleared his throat as he looked away.

"Anyways, hopefully I'm not too long. As long as I can find everything, I shouldn't be." You started towards the front doors.

"Can we-e come with-ith you?" Freddy gasped as he followed you.

"You guys can just turn into something small to not be seen, so yeah, of course."

"Yay-ay-ay!" Freddy cheered.

"Be-fore we do, should-ould you take out our card and listen-en to us through your phone?" Foxy wondered, gesturing to his arm.

"Wait- . . . The card," Michael mumbled to himself, and you looked over at him, "I totally forgot about that thing. (Y/N), can I see that list again?"

"Oh, sure."

You pulled the paper from your back pocket and handed it to him. He unfolded it and laid it on a table, scribbling some things on it. He then refolded it and gave it back to you.

"Thank you," he told you, and you nodded.

"Uh, what'd you add?" you asked, glancing at the paper. "Can I get them at Walmart?"

"Yeah, you can get them at Walmart."

"I can, since they reopened 24/7! I'm so glad they stopped the 7 to 11 hours. It was kind of annoying."

"Yeah, I'll agree with you on that. It's much more convenient being able to get something whenever you need it," James replied.

"7 and 11 . . . Kind of like that convenience store."

". . . Right. We'll see you in a bit, then, (Y/N)."

You rolled your eyes and ignored him as he snickered. You gestured for Molten Freddy to follow you as you started out the front doors. You chuckled as he shifted to a butterfly and landed on your shoulder. You waved to Michael and James before you left, and they waved back.

"So-o, what was wr-wrong with Walmart?" Foxy wondered, following you to the truck.

"What do you mean?" you hummed, unclipping the keys from your jeans.

"You said-aid they reopened 24/7 from 7 t-to 11."

"Oh. Yeah, they originally had to change the hours because of the pandemic, but even after it was over, they kept the hours for a while, for some reason."

"The pan-demic?"

"Yeah, COVID-19 that started back in 2020."

"What's tha-at?"

"What's a-a-a 'pandem-ic'?" Freddy questioned as you stopped at the truck.

“Oh, right, you guys were probably stuck in the old pizzeria when all that happened,” you mentioned, starting to climb into the truck.

You paused as Molten Freddy crawled into the truck before you. They scurried over to the passenger’s side, their wires slithering in behind them. You chuckled as you hopped in with them and closed the door.

“So, there was basically this virus going around that didn’t have a cure for a while. The whole world had to quarantine or wear masks to avoid spreading it, but some people were dumb and did neither of those things,” you explained as you started the truck and buckled up.

“Oh, that-at sounds h-horrible,” Ballora mumbled.

“Yeah, but they've got vaccines for it now, so we don't need to worry about that one."

"'Tha-at' one?" Foxy repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Now it's COVID-20 we'll have to worry about when it comes along," you joked, rolling your eyes. "If people in the future are smart, though, it won't be as bad as 19."

". . . Ri-i-ight."

You sneered, looking through the back window. Before you could start backing the truck up, something tapped on your window. You whipped around to look at who or what it was. You jumped back when you saw Baby staring at you, startled by how close she was to the window. Foxy started to laugh at you as you held your chest and sighed. Baby gave you a small wave as you rolled down the window.

". . . Uhm, hi?"

You nervously waved back at her as Foxy peered over your shoulder. She then handed you something through the window, and upon taking it, you saw that it was her card. You glanced up to her as you realized why she hadn't said anything and nodded. You took your phone out of your pocket and put it in your phone, turning the volume up.

"Sorry if I startled you," Baby started bashfully.

"No, not at all. What would give you that impression?" you babbled sarcastically, pushing Foxy away to keep him from saying anything.

" . . . I wanted to go with you in one way or another, so I gave you my card. I'll head back now so I'm not in your way--"

"I mean, you can just come with us,” you suggested, “there’s plenty of room here in the truck for you, and you can shapeshift as well.”

“Well, I wanted to keep my body here, in case Michael or James needed help with something,” Baby replied, gesturing back to the pizzeria.

"Why-y would they nee-eed your help?" Foxy sneered, and you slapped at his arm, thinking he was just trying to be rude.

"Just in case. If they can't lift something, or something else like that, I can help them--"

"'Help-elp them'? Why would-ould you hel-elp them-- I-I mean, I can sorta see wi-ith Michael, but with Ja-a-ames?" Foxy retorted as he slapped your arm back.

"Because she's not an asshole," you sassed, punching his arm.

"She would-ouldn't be considered an-an asshole if he de-eserved it."

He punched your arm. You hissed and grabbed it as it started to throb. Foxy cursed under his breath, realizing that he may have actually hurt you. You punched him back once again, ignoring your hand as it too started to throb in pain.

"Okay-ay, o-okay! Fi-ine! We'll see you la-ater, Baby," Foxy barked, waving Baby off.

She glanced to you, and you nodded, giving her a smile and wave before looking back at Foxy and glaring. You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow as Baby left.

“Wha-at? I’m not say-ing he wouldn’t-n't deserve it,” he scoffed, shrugging his shoulders.

You rolled your eyes and dropped your arms. You watched Baby in the rearview mirror, making sure she had left, before backing the truck up and leaving the parking lot.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Does that work?” you wondered, sliding your phone in your pocket and facing the camera in front of you.

“Yeah. I can see,” Baby’s voice replied through your earbuds.

“And I-I can hear her,” Molten Freddy added, listening to the earbud you had hung on your shoulder for them.

“Good! We’re all situated, then.” You grabbed a cart and started towards the back.

“What did-id Mikey add to-o the list?” Freddy questioned as you took the paper out of your pocket.

“Um, well, let’s see--" You opened the paper, to see scribble marks--" Oh. He crossed out the old list and wrote down, 'collar' and 'small speaker.' "

"A co-o-ollar? I'm n-not wearing a fuck-ing, collar!" Foxy spat.

"It's either you wear a collar or have to keep dealing with th-th-that," you sassed.

"Wow," Baby mumbled, which was her way of saying 'Damn.'

"I- . . . Fu-u-uck you!" Foxy flapped his wing against your ear.

"That's what I thought. Now, what color do you guys want your collar to be?" you wondered, starting for the pet section.

"Pink, obvi--"

"I'd like pur-ple, please--"

"Orange!"

". . . Huh. That may be a problem," you mumbled under your breath.

"Pink is-is obviously the su-perior color. Espe-ecially of the three," Foxy sneered.

"Foxy, that's an-an opinion you c-can have, but Freddy and I-I don't feel the same way."

"Opin-inion? That's a fac-act!"

"Alright, let's not argue about it. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it--" You paused, seeing that you had already made it to the pet section--”Shit . . . We got to it.”

“Why don’t-on't we just let (Y/N) pick it-it out for us?” Ballora suggested.

“Ooh! There’s one with rainbow hearts on it!” you gasped, grabbing it off the hanger.

“Are y-you sure (Y/N)’s our-ou best option?” Foxy groaned.

“Hey! I mean, it’s got all the colors you guys wanted . . . plus some additional ones,” you trailed off, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I-I like it,” Ballora commented uneasily, not wanting to make you feel bad.

“Me-e too!” Freddy exclaimed and jumped up.

“Ugh.”

“Baby, what do you think?” you wondered, showing her the collar through the camera.

“I love it,” Baby replied.

“Of-of course you d-do, you--” Foxy stopped himself and grumbled.

“You what? What were you about to call her? Go on. Say it,” you insisted, eyeing him.

“No-thing.”

“No, I’m quite-uite interested to-o hear it myself,” Ballora added.

“. . . Ugh, fi-ine! We can g-get the stupid rain-bow heart collar!” He changed the subject.

“That’s what I thought,” you jeered as you tossed the collar into the cart.

Foxy fluttered his wing against your ear in an attempt to lash out at you. Though, it only tickled, making you giggle and Foxy become more annoyed.

“Now for the small speaker, then we can get back to the pizzeria and Michael can fix your voice box.”

~ ~ ~ ~

You sat at one of the tables in the pizzeria with your feet propped up. You were scrolling through your phone, waiting for Michael and Molten Freddy to get out of the salvage room.

Your head turned when the door opened. You dropped your feet and sat up as Michael stepped out of the room.

“I didn’t exactly fix their voice box, but I found an alternative for it that works just as well,” Michael told you.

“This stupid fucking, collar,” you heard Foxy’s voice grumble behind him.

“Now you can hear our voices!” Freddy cheered.

“Yay!” you chuckled and jumped up as Molten Freddy stepped out from behind Michael.

“She’s always been able to hear your voice, dumbass.”

“He said ‘our’ voices.”

“(Y/N), I hate you for this collar,” Foxy grunted, pulling at the colorful fabric that hung around the mass of wires that was their neck.

“Aww! It looks so cute on you guys!” you laughed.

“Why, thank you--" Ballora started.

“Fuck off!” Foxy snapped as he blushed.