Absurdist Phone Guy Stuffed in a Suit

8 - Manhunt 1

Fritz Smith

"This is getting nowhere", Jeremy exclaimed, his exasperation diminishing ever-so-slightly after arriving home. They (Jeremy, really, as Fritz couldn't quite leave the house) had been searching for clues that might lead them toward William. Jeremy had asked around William's whereabouts, hoping that some of the day staff at Freddy's could yield answers, but all he found were shrugs and looks of confusion. It seemed no one was so much as acquaintances with William.

Fritz was no better off, his present condition leaving him an involuntary shut-in. It wasn't as though there was nothing to occupy himself with in Jeremy's house, but it all felt like busy work. The boredom was dreadful, and it put a sour taste in his mouth every time it brought back memories of the warehouse. He needed to do something. If he had to spend even a few more days stuck inside, he'd go crazy.

Whenever he could, Fritz occupied himself with cooking, the one thing he could do that was actually helpful. If there were any benefits to his animatronic form, it was that he had no need for oven mitts, but that small silver lining was far outweighed by the fact that he couldn't actually eat any of the food he made.

He was in the middle of searing a chicken breast, which he swiftly learned to handle with paper towels after a particularly slimy encounter, when Jeremy arrived. Fritz shared his plight – it'd only been a day, but he was dying to get their investigation underway.

"Hey Fritz, what's that smell?" Jeremy asked, stepping into the kitchen and visually flinching at the sight of an animatronic manning his stove before composing himself, thankful that Fritz was facing away.

"I figured I'd make something. I'm going a bit crazy with boredom." Fritz replied, scooping the chicken onto a plate and setting it down on a small table. "Enjoy!"

"Uh, thanks", Jeremy replied, looking down at the moderately-charred chicken. "You sure this isn't poison?"

Fritz gave no reply, and Jeremy went on share his attempts at information gathering, picking-at but not eating his food.

"I asked pretty much everyone that worked there during my shift, but not a goddamn person had any idea about- OH FUCK ME, Fritz! The heat kills the germs in the chicken, you didn't have to dehydrate it as well!"

Fritz gave him a wry smile. "I never claimed to a be chef."

"Oh whatever," Jeremy continued, still eating the chicken, "the point is that unless we manage a miracle, we're basically shit out of luck. No one seems to really know who William is, which I guess makes sense since I haven't seen a news report on haunted animatronics. The dude definitely kept to himself and kept a tight wrap on info surrounding him."

Fritz considered this, letting out a sigh in the process. If Jeremy had no ideas, he definitely didn't. He wracked his brain for everything he knew about the animatronics piloting William's body, but was interrupted by a voice he hadn't heard all day.

[Let me talk!]

Fritz relented, giving the rabbit control over his voice box.

"The pizzeria, dummies!" Bon-Bon exclaimed. "That's the only place they know. Freddy always dreamt of 'doing real performances' in the outside world, and William will want to get more souls for his experiments there."

Jeremy frowned, looking at Fritz with confusion. Fritz felt the same way, although he wasn't quite sure where to look.

"What do you mean 'get more souls'?" Jeremy inquired.

"You think William is still alive, even with those animatronics inside of him?" Fritz asked at the same time.

"Of course not, silly! His body's probably rotting away, but his soul's still in there. He definitely won't be too happy about that though, so he'll probably grab a few kids from the pizzeria again to try to fix himself."