Mike Schmidt's Horrid Tale

Back to The Routine

Grumbling, as usual, Mike walked back inside the pizzeria, through the Dining Area to the Office in a matter of a minute. Spinning his usual chair around and placing it in the middle of the Office, the night guard would then slump down on it and groan, opening up a can of soda. Erm, two cans of soda. After listening to Phone Guy's rants about Night Four of last week, Mike would then drink the first soda, just in time for the small ding of 1 AM.

Once more, Mike would simply check the cameras a bit, switching to Pirate's Cove, and back to the Show Stage. No one was missing. Gulping down the last of the second soda, he crumpled it with his hand and threw it to a nearby trash bin. It was balancing off the edge and Mike made a face of complete rage. The soda then obeyed the man and fell inside the trash bin.

3 AM now, no movements yet. Sighing, Mike rested his head on the chair, throwing up a baseball and catching it. Soon enough, Mike drooled off to sleep. There, in his dreams, the clock floated around, and an echoing ding. Wait, what.

Mike snorted back to reality and coughed out the saliva he swallowed. "Fucking shit!" He continued wheezing out, and quickly remembered to check the lights. Bonnie wasn't there. Nor was Chica. Checking the cameras, he would see Bonnie in the West Hallway, and Chica in the Restrooms. It was 4 AM now, ever since the night guard woke up, to be certain.

Soon enough, Mike spun around and kicked the left door button, closing the mechanical, high-class door. Bonnie was right outside it. The night guard then slumped back down on his chair, taking a bite out of a pizza, which somehow attracted Chica, forcing Mike to close the right door as well.

5 AM's ding ricocheted around the Office, as Mike opened the left door, as Bonnie wasn't there anymore. Chica, though, was still looking at Mike. No wait, she was looking at the pizza. Goddamn it.

Once more, Mike would eat another pizza, taunting Chica. After noticing the power, which was 50%, Mike would close both doors and check the cameras at the same time.

Just as Mike lowered his camera, the clock dinged 5:55. And the power rapidly decreased to 30%. The man would then yawn and close his eyes, waiting for five minutes before the long chime of bells echoed throughout the pizzeria, and the clock chiming 6 AM. "And... That's that." Mike chuckled, walking out of the pizzeria, and into his sedan. "One day..." He said, sitting on the squeaky chair of his sedan, grunting and starting the car up, it grumbling and roaring, as the battery was almost a decade old, at least.

Steering the sedan away from the pizzeria and onto the open road, Mike stepped on the gas and drove back to his apartment. Passing by other cars, he would begin getting drowsy, and occasionally blinking slowly. He needed to get home.. He.. needed..

"Neeeeeeeeooooooo!" A car swerved out of Mike's way. Waking up, the man screamed and stopped the car, just as it was about to hit the tree. "Fuck!" Mike cursed, punching the steering wheel, the air bag dispensing itself on his face. "Fuck my life." Mike stumbled out his car and fainted on the grass near the sidewalk of the road.

"Wow, you're lazy as shit." A guy squatted next to Mike, who seemingly woke up. "Ah shit, who-" Mike looked up to the man. "Phone Guy." The just-woken-up man said. Sitting up, Mike placed his arm on his right leg, sighing. "How'd you find me?" Mike asked reluctantly. "Dude, a car almost hit a tree, and a guy with a cap was lying down beside it. I'm pretty sure that was you." Phone Guy retaliated, chuckling. "Well, I need to get out of here." The other man said, standing up and looking at the sky. By the sun's position, it was about 7 AM. A whole fifty minutes of unconsciousness. Perfect. Mike would then push back the air bag into the small area where it held it previously. Phone Guy then got in his car and drove off, after waving "goodbye" to Mike. Once Mike started his car back up, and began driving away, towards his apartment. A mere ten minutes later, Mike would reach the four-floor-apartment and walked inside, towards the second floor, and into his specific room, where Doll wasn't there. Weird. She doesn't usually go to supermarkets during the early morning, specifically on a Monday. Shrugging the feeling off, Mike would slump on his couch and fall to sleep...