It had been two weeks since my whole "near death experience" and I was proud to say I had basically mastered my job. In the span of two weeks there had been only 2 accidents with the animatronics (not including Sun), not that I was saying it was a good thing, but I had managed to deal with each one successfully!
The first incident had been with Chica, who wasn't processing sound correctly, and it was causing her to talk louder than usual. And since her voice was so high-pitched, she was basically screaming everything she said. That was a fun half hour! It took me some time before I found out that if I identified the proper procedure and typed it into the console by the protective cylinder, that the machine would do it for me!
The second one was with Monty. Two teenagers had stolen his bass and thought it would be fun to try to play it. It didn't exactly... end well for the two kids, who got a face full of gator after somehow snapping two of the strings. So I got to do repairs on his guitar, which was fun, but I also had to take down Monty's aggression levels temporarily, which I didn't know I could do until I checked the handy dandy instructions and help tab on my even more handy dandy Fazwatch, I planned on keeping them down for a lot longer, but when I found out how - how do I phrase this? - insanely boring he could be, I decided to raise them back up to normal after a good hour or two of lazy Monty.
Although, over the past couple of weeks, I had noticed Freddy exhibiting some strange behavior, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. He seemed a lot more extra than my first week. Extra cautious, extra kind, extra thoughtful, extra good... The list went on for miles.
And I'd tried everything! I had done a more thorough run of his diagnostics, I attempted to talk to him about it, but he dismissed it by telling me he didn't know what I was talking about, and I had even bribed him with Starburst! Yet he still denied anything was different or wrong. I pondered it often, until finally something occurred to me.
Is this about my allergic reaction?
He was programmed, naturally, to protect and help others maintain good health and ensure they were fine emotionally as well. He looked so unbelievably concerned, panicked even, when I was having my little 'episode' that I actually felt bad for the poor guy for several days after, apologizing for not being more careful on multiple occasions.
"It's alright, Y/N," he would keep telling me, "It was an accident, and all's well that ends well after all. You don't have to keep apologizing."
I would laugh, "Look who's talking! Mr. I'm Sorry A Million Times!"
"... That's a very long name."
"You know what I mean!" I said, giving him a playful shove. And each and every time I left him with a huge smile and his ears wiggling as fast as they physically could.
He's so cute.
After running morning diagnostics, I added, "H-hey, Fred?"
"Yes, Y/N?"
"Have a good day today."
He beamed, "You too, Y/N."
As he exited, I collapsed into my finally fully-cleaned, blue-cushioned swivel chair.
How can I... how should I... should I help him? Should I even be using the word 'help?' He seems really happy sometimes. I guess I just want to know what's up. Heh. Me and my gosh darn curious mind. Needing to know everything. That's kinda what got me into this mess.
Well, I wouldn't really call it a mess now. I have a solid job that I really like and good friends who I see every day! What more could I ask for?
YOU ARE READING
You're My Superstar!
RomanceY/N has just landed herself a well-paying job at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex as the robotic technician, and she is EXCITED! She had no idea that she was going to become close friends with all the animatronics, and even fall in love with one of t...
