Absurdist Phone Guy Stuffed in a Suit

9 - Manhunt 2

Fritz Smith

Fritz was utterly exhausted, having spent the entire night (and then some) poking and prodding at his soul and developing a migraine that he could only describe as reminiscent of being shoved into a Freddy head. Too bad robots couldn't use Advil, or else he would have greedily swallowed an entire bottle, consequences be damned – he was already dead, after all.

Jeremy had already left, the mechanic promising to drive them later that night. He scoffed – tonight would suck for everyone involved. Poor Jeremy had to spend all day at Freddy's, then immediately return for their nighttime expedition. Fritz was no better off, a pit forming in his stomach at the thought of being so close to where he met his demise. Even the night guard on shift would have no reprieve – it was Friday night, when the animatronics were the most active (or so he heard, seeing as he only made it to Thursday), and he felt sorry for adding a new animatronic into the mix. At least Fritz wouldn't be trying to murder the guard, but they couldn't possible know that.

If they didn't do this though, he reasoned, things would be much worse. He still didn't quite believe Bon-Bon was telling the truth, but he couldn't bear the thought that his distrust would lead to children dying. No, they had to track him down. And, as a small voice in his head recalled, he'd go crazy with boredom if he just did nothing.

Fritz knew he should keep experimenting with his soul, but he wanted to be in good shape when they investigated the establishment... and, he felt completely drained by last night's excursion. Instead, he lazed around until Jeremy arrived, reading and watching the TV, the boredom strong but not yet powerful enough to push him back into experimenting with his soul.

......

Jeremy Fitzgerald

Jeremy was driving home, his day at work somehow leaving him excited to scout out the pizzeria with Fritz later that night. It had only been around a month since Foxy was repaired and deemed performance-ready, and yet some crafty teenager had already managed to sharpen Foxy's normally-blunt hook to a needle's point. It was a wonder the poor kid that discovered it left the building with a deep scrape and not a puncture wound.

He let out a sigh, remembering how the latter half of his shift was spent repairing the hook and dealing with Foxy. Why they couldn't make the damn thing out of plastic was beyond him, but in the end, Foxy's hook was good as new, if slightly shorter.

Eventually, Jeremy arrived home, a muffled laugh escaping from him as his gazed landed on the pink animatronic fox spread out on his couch, too engrossed in some sort of cartoon to notice Jeremy's arrival.

He took his coat off and made his way to the couch. They had some time to kill before their expedition, and loathe as he was to admit it, Jeremy was dying to learn more about the insanity surrounding everything that kept Fritz alive against everything he considered rational. Maybe it was simple curiosity, or the thought of what he could make, but he was ravenous for knowledge in a way that he hadn't been for a long time.

As he got close, Fritz finally noticed him, his ears perking up as he waved Jeremy over.

"Any luck figuring out this bullshit?" Jeremy asked, gesturing to Fritz.

"Not really. Well..." Fritz paused, thinking back to the previous night. "Sort of."

He recounted his painful experiments to Jeremy, explaining the strangeness of his animatronic-bound soul. The mechanic listened with rapt attention that slowly devolved into confusion as Fritz's tail progressed. Eventually he summarized his conversation with Bon-Bon which left Jeremy confused and more than a bit curious.

"Have you tried it? 'Blending in', I mean." Jeremy asked, suddenly much more invested as the possibilities began to form in his mind.

"Well... not quite." Fritz admitted. "I haven't actually done anything since then. I wanted to, but I was so tire-"