Long Distance Call
Night 2 – Monday
 
>You’re still Phineas Guy.
>It’s about 7pm, and you’re about to give your manager, Ed, a call.
>There are a few questions you need to clear up, after all.
>Picking up your phone, you dial the pizzeria’s number.
>It rings.
>Then it rings again.
>A third time.
>Thankfully, Ed answers after the fourth ring. “Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, how can I help you?”
“Uh, hey, Ed! It’s me, Phin.”
>”Oh, Phin. Hi. I was going to call you later, so thanks for saving me the hassle. I need you back in tonight.”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Say, um, I remember you saying back in the day there were these, uh, rules or something the robots use?”
>There’s a pause. “Huh. I don’t remember telling you any of that. Why, what’s up?”
“Well, I was just wondering if you could, you know, leave a list of them or something? Just want to touch up on my, um… animatronics.”
>You get the feeling Ed is frowning on his end. “Uh. Sure, I’ll leave a primer on your desk. It’s nothing complicated, but I’m happy to hear you’re getting back in the Fazbear spirit.”
“Yeah, uh, I’m glad to be back. By the way, um, do you want me here every night or will you just call me up?”
>Another brief pause. You hear some papers moving about.
>”Come in tonight, and Tuesday at least. Still looking for another guy. Finish up there, and I’ll give you the normal wage.”
“Normal wage?”
>”120 bucks a week, though if you’re lucky your week’ll be three days. Anyway, I’ve got to finish up here. Bye, Phin.”
>He hangs up before you can say goodbye.
>It hits you that you forgot to mention Foxy, but you shrug.
>You’ll just do it when you arrive. No big deal.
 
>You make your way over to the store and get in with a good half hour before your shift starts proper.
>Ed is gone, unfortunately, but you’ll just hit him up tomorrow about the pirate.
>Walking into the dining hall, you glance over to the three main machines.
>They sit silent and still on the stage.
>When you arrive at the security office, true to his word, Ed has left a… oh.
>Oh no.
>What’s all this?
>Sitting on the desk is the equivalent of a university math text book’s worth of single pieces of paper, held together by a pair of paper clips.
“Nothing complicated. Right. That’s Ed for you…”
>Taking the giant stack, you begin to skim through the top page.
“’An Introduction to Fazbear™ Animatronic Artificial Intelligence Protocols, by Ed S. Cawthon.’”
>Groaning, you snatch up the flashlight from within the desk, happy that it’s still there.
>Paper in hand, you take a seat and begin trying to read through the massive document.
>Time passes, and by midnight you’re confident that you have no idea what the hell you’re reading.
>At all.
>You’re maybe half way through the block of paper when you finally find something interesting.
>Ignoring the blocks of some weird coding language you can’t understand, you spot a subsection about something referred to as the ‘prime directives.’
“Alright, here we go. Let’s see…”
>Down the right hall you hear a clatter.
>Right, right, the cameras. You need to check those.
>Snatching up the tablet, which is also on the desk, you take a look at what your mechanical co-workers are up to.
 
>Bonnie and Chica are both gone from the stage.
>Freddy hasn’t moved, just like yesterday.
>You flick through, starting with the kitchen.
>Where else would a loud clatter like that come from?
>Unsurprisingly, the chicken is there. Squinting, you think you can see a pot or something on the ground by its feet. What is it even doing in there?
>A few more clicks and you find Bonnie standing about backstage.
>The room is quite dark, but what seems to be a spare animatronic skeleton is sitting on a table beside the rabbit.
>Frowning, you shut down the camera and return to the bulky document sitting on your lap.
>Ten minutes later, you’ve been able to discern a few things.
>Anyone the machines don’t know gets the standard store greeting.
>This confirms Bonnie doesn’t recognize you, at least.
>Machines are always supposed to be in costume when not backstage.
>Non-Employees in Employee areas are to be escorted out of those areas.
>Most of the other directives are unfortunately filled with code excerpts and technobabble—you have no idea what most of them mean.
>You skip through a few more pages, trying to find anything else.
>There’s nothing notable that you can pick out.
>Until the final page, which unlike the others, is hand written.
>Gently, you pull it out of the read.
>The handwriting is atrocious, and much of it is impossible to make out.
>After reading over it maybe a dozen times you conclude the message is something along the lines of ‘Phin, there’s more information stored in the red box in the left corner of the storage room.’
“Well that’s convenient. Why didn’t he just put this one on the top?”
>Sighing, you get up and grab the flashlight, exiting into the left hallway.
>Maybe something there will be in English and not Robot Engineer.
 
>It doesn’t take very long to get to the storage room.
>Unlike yesterday it’s unlocked, which gives you pause.
>However you quickly dismiss the slight feeling of dread in your gut.
>Ed probably grabbed the giant document from in here and forgot to lock up.
>Nothing to worry about.
>The door opens outwards with a light creak. It feels darker in there than it was yesterday.
>That raspy noise starts up again.
>Perhaps this time you can figure out what that is.
>You reach down for your flashlight and flick it on.
>Bonnie is standing right in front of you.
“Um… Uh, hello?”
>Wasn’t Bonnie backstage? How did…?
>Your heart begins to race as your brain struggles to figure out an accurate response for what to do.
>The machine’s mouth opens up as it attempts to ‘speak.’
>But instead of a garbled greeting, you get garbled static. It raises an arm at you.
>Yeah, uh, no.
>You take a step back from it and slam the door on the animatronic.
>As you retreat to the security office you clearly hear “Employees only” come from the machine.
>You ARE an employee…
>Sitting back in your chair you pause to catch your breath.
>After a moment you hit the left door’s button.
>Thinking on Ed’s ‘primer,’ you figure it probably thinks you’re just some random customer, and wants to escort you out.
>That’s another thing to mention to Ed. Maybe you should make a list?
>Leaning back, you check up on the cameras, starting with the storage room.
>Bonnie is gone.
>You blink, taking your flashlight and pointing it at the right hall.
>There’s nothing there thankfully.
 
>Sighing, you check on the other cameras to see where Bonnie disappear to.
>The left hallway camera closest to you is empty. The Kitchen has been vacated as well.
>Freddy is still on stage.
>You find Chica standing around the restrooms.
>Chuckling, you consider that perhaps it ate too much pizza.
>Backstage is clear as well. You frown, growing more concerned.
“Now where did that rabbit get to?”
>Your answer comes in the form of heavy, raspy breathing coming from the left door.
>Jesus, what was with these things?
>Putting down the tablet cam, you grab the verbose technical document.
>Maybe there was some sort of command you could trigger to shut Bonnie down, or at least go away.
>A long shot, but it’s worth trying at least.
>As you read, Bonnie continues making those creepy noises from across the metal barrier.
>It’s extremely unsettling, that’s for sure. How could a machine even make those sounds?
>You wipe the sweat from your brow as you futility go through the technobabble brick of paper for the fourth time.
>A slight tapping catches you off guard.
“No, you’re not escorting me out! I work here, alright?”
>Catching your breath from the unexpected outburst, you take a second to catch your breath.
>Phineas, you need to relax.
>You’re screaming at an ‘animatronic performance worker,’ as referred to in the document.
>At four in the morning.
>Relax.
>Deep breaths.
>There’s another set of taps.
>It takes you a moment to realize that it’s not a tap made from metal on metal, but metal on glass.
 
>And the only glass in the room are its little windows.
>You grab your flashlight, cautiously pointing it to the left window.
>With a click, you confirm that It’s empty.
>Slowly, you turn your flashlight and point it at the other window.
>At the window is Chica, mouth hanging open. It silently stares at you, an animatronic hand periodically tapping the glass.
>Now, Bonnie looked pretty off with the appropriate lighting, but Chica was just unsettling.
>You’ve seen ducks before, and their beaks do not hang open like that.
>Not even dead ones.
>A shiver runs down your spine as you continue looking at the uncanny contraption.
“Can I help you?”
>It continues starring as your flashlight flickers and dies, the hallway turning dark.
>Your heart stops as your eyes struggle to keep track of the machine.
>From the darkness comes a sound.
>”H-H-H-Hey there, b-birthday boy!”
>You sit quietly, the fan buzzing on as usual.
>”L-Let’s eat!”
>You begin to hear metal footsteps.
>Unfortunately for Chica, you’re not hungry. And probably never will be again.
>To make clear your response, you slam the right side’s door button.
>The machine continues its approach, seemingly unaware of the closed door.
>You hear it bump into it, in fact. All the while it keeps sporadically stating ‘Let’s Eat’ at fluctuating volume.
>At least the raspy breathing is gone.
>A few minutes pass before you hear more footsteps.
>Checking the cameras you catch a glimpse of the bird leaving into the darkness.
>Putting down the tablet, you take the reprise to catch your breath.
“It’ll be fine, Phineas. They don’t recognize you as an employee is all. You can come in early and talk to Ed and get it sorted out.”
 
>Leaning back you raise up the tablet camera and flick through.
>Bonnie has returned to its place on the stage with Freddy.
>A few clicks spot Chica in the main dining area.
>It’s at this point you realize you haven’t even once checked on Foxy.
>Popping over to the relevant camera you—he’s gone.
>Any notion of being calm dies at that moment. Where is Foxy?
>Flipping through the cameras you fail to spot him anywhere. You consider for a moment there maybe be blind spots in your view.
>When you switch back to the dining camera you catch the slightest glimpse of something running by.
>You pale, an astounding feat giving how light you already are.
>Checking back on Pirate’s Cove, the curtain has closed. Guess he’s home.
>But after observing for a second something is clearly off.
>The out of order sign has changed to say ‘It’s Me.’
>You blink a few times, thinking maybe you aren’t just seeing something.
>Nope. The sign definitely says ‘it’s me.’
>You shake your head. That’s not normal. You’ll need to tell Ed about that too.
>Setting down the camera, you glance to your watch. 5:51am.
>Almost over. You stand, putting away the document thing, your flashlight and the tablet.
>Soon enough, it’s six.
>Leaving down the left hall, you stop by the storage room and try to spot the red box.
>It eludes you in the darkness, but after refilling your flashlight with fresh batteries you quickly spot it.
>Unfortunately there’s a very thick lock holding it shut.
>You try the keys Ed gave you, but none of them fit the lock.
 
>Giving up, you continue on your way out, stopping for a moment to inspect the pirate’s cove.
>Bringing up the flashlight, you’re surprised to discover the sign has returned to normal.
“What the…”
>Cautiously you step toward the venue.
>The sign definitely says ‘Sorry! Out of order!’
>Frowning, you circle around the post, checking to see if the back has the different message.
>It does not.
>Scratching your head, you honestly have no idea what’s going on.
>For a second you consider pulling back the curtain to see what Foxy is up to.
>But you’re not sure doing so would be good for your health.
>For all you know he’s still on.
>Sighing, you return to the security office.
>You figure it will be easier to just write and leave a message for Ed rather than call him up again.
>He is pretty busy, after all.
>By 6:20am you’re on your way out, taking one last chance to check on all machines and signs to ensure all is well.
>Ed will sort things out, you figure. No worries.
>You begin your walk home.