FNAF Foxy x Mike story I made out of bordeom

Chapter 23: There's First (and Last) Time for Everything

Foxy P.O.V.
When I woke up, Mike was scrambling around the place like mad.
"Shit!" he snapped to himself. "Can't believe it! I overslept! God damn it..." He was cursing like a truck driver. It almost made me laugh.
"What's wrong, Mike?" I asked the brown-haired guy struggling to get his work jacket on.
"What's wrong?!" He snapped. "What's wrong is that I accidentally overslept and now I'm gonna be late for work!" I suddenly remembered that he worked a night shift too. Man, two jobs must have been a lot for him to handle. No wonder he was always drinking coffee. I looked over at the clock. He was right. 11:59. At this point, there'd be no way he'd get to work on time.
"I'm sorry, Mike!" I struggled to apologize.
He glanced over at me forgivingly. "Don't worry about it, Foxy. You took a lot more energy out of me than I thought. Still, it's not your fault I forgot to reset the alarm on my phone..." He pecked me on the cheek. "I love you. See you in a few." With that, he left.
Huh. I heard Emily outside the door. He treats you like a spouse.
"Wouldn't be shocked if you thought that." I responded. "Wait. How do you know what that's like?"
Been out spying on the neighbors. Emily sighed. Now get fully dressed, please. I really can't stand the sight of you... you know... like that. I turned slightly red when I heard this, realizing I was only in my underwear at this point. I quickly threw on my clothes and left the bedroom. Emily stood waiting for me.
You certainly look much better. She smiled a sickly sweet, ghostly smile.
"Thank you..." I headed to the kitchen, realizing how hungry I was. I opened the fridge and immediately spotted a bottle of something I'd never seen before.
"Hey, Em," I called out to my ghost friend. "You think Mike's gonna care if I drink this?" She teleported behind me and took the bottle out of my hand without warning. She studied the label carefully.
It says "drink responsibly". She cautioned. I don't think consuming a lot of it would be good for you. Neither you nor I know what will happen if you do.
"Ah, chill out, Em, if that's the case then I won't drink too much. Now what the hell's in this stuff...?" I read the back labels carefully. "Huh. Hey, go see if you can find, like, a dictionary or something and look up the word 'alcohol', will ya?" Emily set off into the bedroom to find the requested book.
"Meanwhile..." I popped the cap off with my hook and closed the refrigerator door. "A little swig won't hurt. I hope." I tipped the bottle back into my mouth. Yikes. I let in just a little more than I was ready for.
"GAH!" I choked slightly. "This stuff tastes awful!" I studied the bottle carefully. "And yet..." I tipped it back again. "...Ya just can't help but come back for more."
By the time Emily came back with the book, the whole of the bottle was empty.
Here it is! She proclaimed cheerfully. Alcohol. Noun. Also called ethyl alcohol, grain alcohol, ethanol, fermentation alcohol. a colorless, limpid, volatile, flammable, water-miscible liquid, C 2 H 5 OH, having an etherlike odor and pungent, burning taste, the intoxicating principle of fermented liquors, produced by yeast fermentation of certain carbohydrates, as grains, molasses, starch, or sugar, or obtained synthetically by hydration of ethylene or as a by-product of certain hydrocarbon syntheses: used chiefly as a solvent in the extraction of specific substances, in beverages, medicines, organic synthesis, lotions, tonics, colognes, rubbing compounds, as an automobile radiator antifreeze, and as a rocket fuel. (Author's Note: Copy-and-pasted straight from www.dictionary.com. Because I'm just that unoriginal.) It shocked me that she could read all those long words. She must have been doing some studying while Mike and I were passed out on the bed.
Uh-oh. Emily looked at the bottle in my hand. You drank all of it, didn't you?
I hiccuped, suddenly not feeling myself.
"Possibleh." Oh, shit. I slurred my words horribly.
Ohh, Foxy. Mike probably won't be happy when he gets home and sees you like this. Emily frowned and tapped her foot. I couldn't help but laugh. Even if she was the ghost of an eight year old, she had the heart and mind of a teenager. Maybe even an adult...
The next thing I remembered was completely blacking out.
•••
"Ah, damn it, Foxy!" I could faintly hear voices later on, even though everything was still black. "Emily, what happened to him?!"
I was later told Emily pulled out a whiteboard and Expo marker (I assume she stole that off someone, namely the neighbors) and hurriedly wrote: "I don't even know. He found a bottle in the fridge and told me to look up a word on the label and when I came back he drank the whole thing!" She sighed, erased, and wrote something else: "This is the last time we let him have alcohol. Deal?" She displayed the board with her left hand and held out her right, as if to offer a handshake.
"Deal." Mike did not hesitate to respond, taking Emily's ghostly hand and attempting to shake it, but failing to do so until she voluntarily moved it herself.
"Damn right..." I muttered, slowly waking up and becoming aware of an awful pain in my head. "The last time I have alcohol..."
•••
A/N:
Hot damn. That headache must've hurt.
*author out*