27 years passed and I have never even thought of the place. If anyone wanted to go, I would park at Chuck E. Cheese's. I hate Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. hate Hate HATE!!!!!!!
I was in my apartment, 327, when I heard a knocking noise that imitated the Fazbear jingle. I got up and kept my pocket knife in my back pocket. I slowly opened the door with a cringed face. It appeared to be a happy (creepy) employee of the bizarre arcade. She handed me a note and slammed the door. All I heard left was crying fading away as she strolled down the hall.
It said,"Congratulations! You get to work at none other than Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria! You get to be the night guard!" I stabbed through the paper, burned it, stepped on it, and tossed it out the window.
The next week, I heard another knocking except slower. I put my pissed-off face on and marched to my door. I jerked it open and saw a man in a Freddy suit. My heart pounded like Captain America with his punching bag. He lied his head on his shoulder and whispered,"Work here, child. Work for Freddy. Work for me." He handed me a stack of job applications and slammed the door so hard it popped the knob off. I finally made my stupid decision and decided I'll get the job.
I called 1-800-FUN-HOUSE. "Hello, this is Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria; Jonathan speaking." I started to sweat,"H-Hi, I'm Mike. Um...Freddy offered me a job as the night guard." He chuckled,"Alright sir, we'll meet you Sunday night." I realized I was covered in sweat. I nearly jumped out the window from severe regret. I hated myself.
YOU ARE READING
The Sixth Night
FanfictionI'm still the worker at this place. They won't fire me and they won't let me quit. You've gotta get- oh God, I forgot Pirate Co-!
