FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Wet as a Dog

Don't you just love being called in to work on a weekend due to one of your fellow night guards doing a little too much day drinking? It's great! You get to do cool things like drive to your place of employment in the middle of a raging thunderstorm at midnight instead of doing activities you actually enjoy. The windshield wipers on your beater do a decent job of keeping your vision clear as the blotched colors of a familiar logo gradually make themselves known. The colors slowly become brighter until you see the logo of the glorified playgrou- "Family entertainment center for all ages!" that you worked night shifts at. You slow down to make the turn into the empty parking lot of the place, nabbing an ideal spot to make your dash to the entrance as short as possible through the heavy rain. Before stepping out you run through a mental checklist you've done dozens of times before. Your fake leather wallet? Check. Security badge clipped to your uniform? Check. Flashlight because the cheapskates that run the place always turn most of the ceiling lights off during off hours? Check. Flip phone in case the place burns down? Check.

You give an aggravated sigh before stepping out of the warm comfort of your car and into the nasty weather outside, flipping the collar on your jacket up to shield yourself from as much of the torrential rain as possible. Quickly you dash under the short awning above the entrance and unclip the badge on your uniform before swiping it on the reader beside the door. The red light on its plastic casing pulses for a few seconds before turning green signaling it's accepted your credentials. You pull the door open and step inside, water already dripping off your jacket from your brief exposure to the elements.

The entrance to the place wasn't much to look at, basically just a room with a large ticket counter to purchase tickets for the various attractions that filled the complex and a smaller counter to buy the pictures that all of the attractions stealthily took of you at predetermined points. You look at the large overhead sign with all the different ticket prices, mind in disbelief with how much they've raised them since you were a kid. Now they've never been cheap, and inflation meant they had to rise eventually, but the cost for a full pass to all the rides and shows the place had to offer was enough to make anyone do a double take.

You shake your jacket off and move towards the entryway that lead to the complex's dining hall, swiping your badge through another reader before the doors would allow you passage. You shove the doors open to be met with an expansive view of the room. It was a large and open space, with a stage setup on one end for the animatronics to play on and the kitchen set up on the other. Between the two was enough seating for well over a couple hundred people on red booths and tables of varying sizes. Across the corners of the ceiling ran long strips of glowing neon lighting, a type of styling that had long since gone out of style but had never been updated. Personally you thought it added a sense of charm to the place, or maybe that was just the nostalgia talking. The floor was uniformly black to hide the stains of god knows what the poor janitors had to clean up on a daily basis. The intimately familiar smell of cheap pizza, stale air, and a hint of vomit permeated through the air.

Sauntering between empty tables your eyes adjust to the dim light provided by the few ceiling lights kept on this late. You take off your moist jacket and lay it on a random table to dry, not like anyone was here to steal it when you weren't looking. Though technically, in a purely abstract sense, you actually weren't here alone. You knew that somewhere in this huge building was one of the animatronics lurking about. You never fully understood the reasoning behind why they chose to keep one of them roaming the complex and every attempt to get clarification from your boss ended in a vague answer about the buddy system and rising payroll costs. What a bunch of cheapskates, it was plain as day to anyone with more than two braincells that they only did it so they wouldn't have to pay another security guard to tag along with you. If they did then you could at least have some small talk to make the shifts a little more bearable. Most of the robotic animals that you encountered here weren't exactly much for conversation since their responses were predictable and often canned. Though you have to admit the number of times you've asked one of them a question and gotten a human like answer surprised you, then again for how much the company's paid for them in terms of parts and maintenance over the years they better be able to say something other than a few dusty lines.

You take a seat and prop your feet up on a table while looking towards the unlit stage. You know, out of all the sights in the world an empty stage has got to be one of the saddest. The lights hang overhead standing by to light the rock stars, the speakers were readied all around the front of the stage, lone microphone ready for the first few lyrics, yet there's no one to provide them. A sad sight that you've spend countless lonely nights staring blankly at. In fact this night seems a little lonelier than normal, you have yet to hear the servos of one of the animatronics creeping about the place. While part of you wants to just not worry about it, there's another softer part that now holds a tinge of worry. Worry about her. Your feet swing off the table and you stand up surveying the empty dining room. Nothing here, guess it must be lurking about in one of the attraction rooms. Your gaze turns to the five large doors that lead to the entertainment focused areas of the complex, one of them was sealed off so that left 4 options. Faced with a choice of laser tag, arcade, miniature golf, and bowling alley a quick 4 sided dice roll in your head turns up with arcade. You begin walking to the door leading to the arcade section of the complex, wet shoes squeaking the entire way, but you stop in your tracks as a fifth option enters your mind. The maintenance area was also an area of the building they patrolled but you hated going down there due to the dingy atmosphere and the fact that all of the lights that normally lit the concrete corridors were shut off this time of the day. But then again, that would probably be the last place you would check right? And knowing your luck that would also be the place the animatronic is patrolling. With a tired sigh you head to the door marked employee only, once again using your badge to open the door to the black void beyond.

Switching your flashlight on you slowly wander the concrete hallways passing workplace safety propaganda and various rooms bearing uninteresting nameplates. Man, whichever one they got setup with you today was being awfully quiet, assuming it was even down here in the first place. Seeing no towering metal figures with glowing eyes so far you begin to turn back and search some of the other areas of the building.

But then your flashlight flickers and dies. Goddamnit.

You did not want to have find your way out of this place by touch alone given the many winding corridors and dead ends. Yet that seems to be your only option after a few strong hits to your flashlight fails to bring it back to life. With several curses muttered under your breath you touch a wall and begin slowly walking forward, hoping to the almighty that you don't break your nose by running into a concrete wall in the darkness. After stumbling around blindly for few minutes and making no discernable progress you hear a voice echo through the halls, synthesized and feminine with a distinctly hostile tone.

"Whoever you are you better come out. Not like you have a chance running from me. I'm the_best._"

Immediately after the echo dies the sound of servos whining and the screech of metal on concrete fills your ears, the cacophony of noise amplified by your concrete prison and lack of vision. Turning your head all around you can't pinpoint the source of the sound, but you do look on as a faint yellow glow appears from behind a hallway in front of you. You stand stiff as the glow becomes brighter, bobbing up and down as its bearer steps closer to your position. The mystery figure clears the hallway and now you see two glowing amber circles towering above you and creeping closer with each booming footstep. The sound of motors grinding and metal feet scraping the floor is almost unbearable as the eyes stop a few feet in front of you, their yellow stare bright and unblinking. There's a tense moment as the stare continues, but then your flashlight blinks back to life. Of fucking course it picks now of all times to work. You raise it to illuminate the body bearing the glowing eyes.

Just what you hoped, they got Roxanne the wolf working with you tonight. Pierced gray ears still bounced from her walk towards you. Golden reflective eyes stared at you from above her muzzle, faint purple lips in front of what were quite frankly two rows of frighteningly sharp looking metal teeth. Her calves and forearms were still painted in black and purple tiger stripe, though it seems she's gained quite a few new scratches since the last time you saw her. What were once shiny metal plates covering her endoskeleton had turned a dull matte with age, and the faint signs of surface rust could be seen near her joints. However one thing that was not showing any signs of age was her luxurious mane, bouncy green highlight in front with voluminous gray strands trailing down her back. She takes one more step towards you before barking an order.

"Identify yourself...twirp."

It was ceaselessly amusing that even when in security mode the animatronics still had their personality filters working. You reply with a practiced response. Why they made you start the identity verification process with such a strange phrase was never known to you.

"That's no way to treat your biggest fan Roxy. Here, have a look at my backstage pass."

You unclip your security badge and present it to her. Her hand moves to it in a jerky motion, then suddenly stops before securing it between two clawed fingers and raising it to her eyes. Her cameras take in its codes and digits then she responds in an uncharacteristic monotone.

"Night watchman G95132, identity verified for the next 8 hours, have a pleasant shift."

Night watchman, that's what they used to call the people employed in your position years ago before new management came in and started making changes for no good reason.

"Always is with you around. Anything to report?"

She shifts back to her usual spunky self.

"Nothing but the silent adoration of my many fans and quiet seething from my competitors." Her words practically dripped with an overinflated sense of pride.

"Really? I had to come down here to find you since I didn't see you patrolling around the dining hall. You haven't been slacking off on your duties, have you?" You jest.

Her eyelids squeak as she blinks, outdated processors and personality matrices methodically building her response. When she has one her eyes perk up and a hand shoots to her hip while the other points angrily.

"I just hadn't gotten there yet you little punk! I'm not like some of the other band members that are content leaving a job half finished. I put all of my beautiful self into my work, and it shows in the well-deserved praise I receive." She runs a metal hand through her bouncy green hair. "The maintenance area has been fully cleared. No thieving little jerks detected. I was just about to head to the dining hall, wanna come with? Keep the crowds off my back?"

Oh Roxy, always thinking there were legions of fans behind every corner just waiting for her autograph even when the building was closed. You decide to play along with her.

"Sure, you lead the way wolfess. I'll do my best to keep the filthy paws of the teaming masses off of you."

She gives a pleased sigh before walking towards the exit to the maintenance tunnels, servos and motors grinding with every step. Out of all the animatronics the complex had she was by far the oldest, not having an updated endoskeleton or computer system made for her in around a decade. You guessed this was just a symptom of incredibly poor timing. The company had been gradually sending out updated models of her 3 other bandmates over the last several years but then an economic crisis hit and the company started bleeding money. Cutting development of a new Roxy when the one they had was working just fine seemed like a reasonable response to hard times, and to be honest you were happy that the same Roxy that you had spent your childhood watching on the stage was still kicking around. After all, the newer models of animatronics seemed to lack a certain special something that the older ones had. The new ones moved with a previously unseen fluidity, bodies moving with a digital precision that poor Roxy couldn't match with her older electronics and less sophisticated internal motors. Yet her clumsiness was somehow endearing, the juttery motions and exaggerated animations somehow blended together to make her seem more authentic than her other bandmembers, not moved by digital code and programming but by what she was feeling in the moment if such a thing could even be said to feel. To be honest the depths of the animatronics intelligence mystified you. The sharp contrast between expected canned responses and occasional bits of human like clarity and awareness butting against each other meant you were never quite sure just how sentient the metal beings actually were. Out of all of them Roxy seemed to have the most human like responses when you would converse with her, you weren't really sure why considering the newer models had considerably more processing power.

As the two of you progress through the dark tunnels, your dim flashlight and her yellow eyes cutting through the darkness, you begin to notice a slight imperfection in her movement. It looked like the servo powering her right knee was just slightly out of sync with the rest of her walk cycle. Damnit.

"Hey Roxy, hold up."

Yellow eyes turn to you as her body slows to a halt. Her head cocks to the side inquisitively.

"What?"

"Roxy, is there something wrong with your right leg? You're moving a little strangely."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm in tip top shape! Always am!" She states enthusiastically.

Your tone lowers as you cut through her lie.

"The servo in your right leg is acting up, isn't it?"

Her head looks to her knee then back to you.

"How dare you imply that I'm-"

She cuts herself off before deciding on another response. Just one of those quirks of human speech that seemed beyond the other animatronics. She continues.

"Okay you total downer, a diagnostic indicates it's operating a little out of range. I'll let maintenance personnel know when I boot back up tomorrow."

You shake your head.

"No Roxy, I'll take care of it. You remember what happened the last time those room temperature IQ retards tried to do maintenance on you."

Her gaze moves downward as she trawls her memory banks.

"You better believe I remember, they reinstalled the wrong hand and I had to perform that night with two right hands. You have any idea how hard it is to play a keytar like that?! Those incompetent fools! I hope nobody noticed..." Her posture slumps forward and she hugs her arms, the nervous tone of her last line indicating a deep insecurity. "What if the audience took pictures. Or video! Then they would have a way to laugh at my messed up body forever..." Her words trail off.

"Chill out Roxy, I'll take care of your knee tonight, just to make sure you don't end up with two left legs tomorrow. How does that sound?"

Her eyes shoot up. Despite the small amount of flexibility she had in facial expressions you would say she almost looked relieved.

"Great! But you aren't an authorized repair technician. Company policy states that only authorized personnel are to engage in repair operations on Class A stage animatronics as per SOP edict-"

You decide to cut her off before she can say the overly dense bureaucratic line you've heard several times before.

"I've done repairs on you before Roxy, no need to remind me I'm not authorized every time I bring it up."

She stares at you for several seconds, her mind working as you can only assume she's overriding whatever security protocols deny your ability to repair her.

"Okay watchman, I'll let you repair me. But don't think for even a second that you can tell any of the other bandmembers about this! I don't want them thinking I'm falling apart. I just need a little work is all. Just a tiny little touch up."

You stifle a chuckle. It was obvious just looking at the group onstage that she had the oldest frame of the four of them, it was also obvious that she had the largest number of jury rigged repairs given the number of mismatching metal panels and faded paint.

"Alright Rox, my lips are sealed." You look around with your flashlight reading all the nameplates on the doors. Aha! The animatronic repair bay was just a little further down the hall. Within that room would be all the tools you would need to fix the old wolfess up.

"Roxy you head up to the dining hall, I'm going to grab a few things from the repair bay. I'll meet you up there lickety split."

"Okay," Her head tilts and eyes become half lidded, she speaks with an almost seductive tone. "but remember it's rude to keep a girl waiting."

You know, sometimes the words that came out of her speakers almost made it sound like she was trying to flirt with you. The rational side of your brain says that it's just a quirk of her personality matrix, some kind of joke left in by a lonely and horny programmer. But the irrational side of your brain almost thinks she understands the implications of her provocative tone.

She turns around and marches off to the exit of the maintenance area, hair and tail fluff bouncing into the darkness. You approach the repair bay and unlock it with your keycard before forcing open the rusty door. You survey the cramped room with your flashlight. Metal shelves brimming with various spare parts, a bookcase filled with repair manuals and technical drawings, the floor was littered with oil stains and discarded papers. Your flashlight eventually illuminates the four workstations the animatronics were stored and serviced in. Three were occupied, the animatronics hunched over with a pulsing red light next to the power cables plugged into their backs. You move to a bench holding the toolbox containing the tools and parts needed for quick on site repairs. After all you knew a repair like what she needed wouldn't take much time to complete given your extensive knowledge in mechanical engineering. Well maybe extensive was a bit of an exaggeration, you were still finishing up your second to last year in college for mechanical engineering and had very little practical experience outside of the work you occasionally did on Roxy. Not that she seemed to mind.

You open the toolbox to make sure all the needed tools were inside and walk over to the bookshelf lined with repair manuals. You eventually spy the manual for the wolfy robot and pull it off the shelf. The cover featured Roxanne T posing against a background of hashed lines, colors faded from age. You open the dusty tome and look at the dull gray pages eventually finding the table of contents. Through the technical jargon you find the section containing the information needed for the repair and commit the page number to memory before closing it. You're about to leave but then curiosity gets the better of you. You know, you've never even read the repair manuals for the other animatronics, how were they any different from Roxy's? You go back to the bookshelf and retrieve the manual for the animatronic chicken lady and open it. Jesus, what a fustercluck of parts these newer models were. You silently move in front of the shut down chick, studying her body and comparing it to the tech specs in the manual.

The more you see of the manual the more that you're impressed with what modern technology can accomplish. High precision tactile touch sensors in each fingertip, image processors with face tracking for up to 100 people at a time, dedicated 8 gigglehertz personality filter processing units, downloadable DDRX RAM, the list goes on. These newer models even have third generation night vision? AND thermal imaging capability? Damn! Poor Roxy had to rely on the lights from her eyes to get around in the dark.

"What a neat piece of tech you are." You absentmindedly say to yourself while admiring the chick's fifth generation inline electric motors.

*WHIIiiirrrr screech*

Your head shoots to the entrance to the room just in time to see a pair of yellow eyes slink back into the darkness. The sound of synthesized breathing was barely audible from where you were standing. Or was it panting? She was "breathing" pretty hard.

"Roxy?" You ask the empty doorway.

Her head reappears, eyes shining an angry yellow and mouth open just enough to make her teeth visible.

"FIRST, you keep me waiting upstairs. SECOND, I come down here to find you ogling another bandmember. THIRD, that's not even my repair manual you're holding! You lying little punk!" She snarls so loud her speakers almost blow themselves out.

"Hey hey hey! Calm down! I was just about to go up to the dining hall, just wanted to see what the newer models were made of while I was in here." You hope your sincereness comes across in your voice.

She reveals the rest of her body in the doorframe and begins stomping towards you, fists clenched, shoulders tensed, and eyes a raging amber. Your brain tells you these animatronics had all kinds of safeties to prevent them from harming people, but that doesn't stop her rapidly approaching metal frame from scaring you just short of shitless. She stops less than a step away from you before engaging in a silent stare down that lasts far longer than you would like. Just before you open your mouth she opens hers.

"I'm your favorite, right?" The angry tone from before had disappeared, now replaced by one that seemed controlled yet firm.

"Of course Roxy, you're my favorite." You state with a soft reassurance.

Her head swivels to the three hunched over animatronics, eyes taking in their shiny skin and cutting edge parts. Two metal paws gently grip your shoulders, or at least as gently as she could manage, despite being around kids all day her servos packed quite a punch and finesse was never one of her specialties. Makes you wonder how your employer avoided getting constantly bogged down in lawsuits. Bright amber eyes stare into your own.

"I'm still your favorite...right?" That last word, it was spoken with something approaching heartache. Or was it just some programmers' idea of heartache? Either way her question would be met with the same answer.

"Yes, out of all the walking talking animal people here..."

Your chins tilts down, your eyes pan up, lips move slowly as you emphasize your next words.

"...you're my favorite."

Your pupils stare into the dark center of her amber rings. Her paws release themselves from their grip on you. She flicks her hair with a great deal of flair before responding with a cool confidence.

"Good, I already knew I was your favorite because I'm everyone's favorite. Just feels good to hear it out loud sometimes."

"Right..."

The two of you silently make your way back up to the dining hall. You set the heavy toolbox onto a table and lay her repair manual next to it. You instruct her to sit down onto one of the chairs so you can have a good angle to fix her knee and she complies, planting her metal behind on a well-worn cushion. Tools are placed out in front of you, the manual turned to the correct page, you're just about to turn the first screw and-

*RING RING RING*

You groan before getting your phone out of your pocket and flipping it open. Looking at the screen the word "Boss" glows depressingly. You press the big green button.

"Hey boss man, what's up?"

"Heeeeyyyy, Dave! Got some news for ya."

"Oh?"

"Ya so it turns out the storm outside is only going to get worse as the night goes on, damn near going to become a hurricane. But don't worry! We got you covered buddy!"

"Covered?" You state with a disbelieving inquisitiveness.

"Of course! We won't be opening the complex back up in the morning so if you just hold tight for a couple hours after your shift ends we'll have another guard ready to take your place. Get a little overtime, make some extra money!"

One and a quarter overtime pay was never a good motivator, not that it dissuaded your supervisors from encouraging you to take extra hours.

"Okay boss, I'll chill out here while the storm passes. Any other news?"

"No Dave that's it. Just one thing though, remember to refresh your security clearance with whatever metal monstrosity they got working with you today. Shit's only good for one shift so if you don't reapply it the animatronic might just mistake you for a burglar. And you don't want to see what they do to burglars, trust me, it's almost as bad as what my ex-wife did to me when she found out the wedding ring I gave her came with a fake diamond heh heh heh."

You cringe internally. He continues.

"So anyway Dave just keep the place from burning down and we'll be golden. Sound good?"

"You got it Boss. See you later."

You press the red button to hang up and put your phone back into your pocket. Things could be worse you guess, spending an additional two hours in this dimly lit building with nothing to do but walk around and talk to a robotic wolf lady programmed with a wildly overinflated ego wasn't the worst fate in the world. You could be dead, or worse, live in Detroit.

You take the screwdriver back into your hand and look to Roxy.

"Well, looks like I'll spending even longer here than anticipated. The storm outside is getting worse."

She stares at you blankly. She must have not understood what you said, either her microphones were getting worn out or her speech recognition software was having a hiccup, it happens sometimes.

You get back to work before the awkward silence can develop any further. Your eyes glance back down to her repair manual. Let's see, first things first you'll need to shut her down so you don't fry yourself if you accidently brush a live wire, then you need to remove the dozen screws that secure her right thigh panel to her underlying endoskeleton. Then you'll need to remove some support linkages so you can disconnect the electrical wiring attached to her knee servo. After that you'll need to carefully adjust the-

"Good."

The husky synthetic voice puts the brakes on your train of thought. Your eyes slowly rise back to Roxy, the confused look on your face enough to make it obvious she needed to elaborate further.

"I think it's good that you have to stay here longer with me."

She...liked you staying here? What an odd thing for an animatronic to say. What made it even odder was that as long as you've worked here she's never referred to you differently from the dozen other faceless guards that worked night shifts, you always thought you were just a blank face in a company uniform from a long line of blank faces in company uniforms. Sure when you were a kid you saw her often enough that she would greet you by name without asking, but that was so long ago, and you're entirely certain that by now your name and facial recognition data have long since been overwritten by several newer generations of kiddos. Still, your curiosity gets the better of you.

"And what makes you say that Roxy?"

She stares at you blankly. Is she thinking? Recalling? Trawling her memory banks for a vaguely related canned response? She tilts her head and opens her mouth for a moment as if to say something but her motion stops suddenly. Great, it looked like she just bluescree-

"Well it only makes sense for my biggest fan to spend the biggest amount of time here at the pizzaplex! All the more time to have fun at our cutting edge attractions!" She states with rehearsed enthusiasm.

Now it all makes sense. The security phrase you start every shift with.

"Sure Roxy. I'm your biggest fan and all that. You want to see my backstage pass again?" You fire back sarcastically.

"Unnecessary, you're still verified for the next 6 hours and 33 minutes security guard G95132." More of that uncharacteristic monotone.

"I'll take that as a no."

You no longer feel like humoring the wolfess. Your eyes go back to the repair manual. Now what did you need to do first again? Right, shut her down. The power switches were located on a panel on her back cleverly hidden behind her long mane. You move to her side and brush back light gray strands to reveal the telltale outline of the panel. You depress it and it pops open revealing a few rocker switches backlit by red LEDs. It only seems polite to give her a warning before shutting her off.

"I'm shutting you down Roxy, just to give you a heads up."

Her head swivels as far to the right as it can to look at you.

"I won't be out for long right? Just a few minutes?"

"Don't know, depends on how long this tune up is going to take."

"Well if I wake up and even a single strand of my hair is out of place or a fleck of paint is missing the consequences may be more than you can handle."

What an unusually spicy response from her. You straighten your hunched posture and cross your arms.

"Do you say that to all the mechanics before they shut you down?"

"Only the ones I like." She winks at you, or at least you think it's a wink. One of her purple eyelids just shut and reopened.

The unfeeling wolf animatronic just said she likes you; this honestly makes you a little flustered. It feels good to hear someone, or something, say that as depressing as it may sound. It's been a while since you've heard someone voice their affection for you. A long while.

"Well Roxy for what it's worth I like you too." You lean back down and place a finger right above the first rocker switch. "I'll see you when you wake up."

"See ya soon Night watchman. And remember, no funny business while I'm asleep."

"Point taken. See you ya later Roxy."

You press the switches in sequence and close the panel. Her body hunches over slightly as the servos revert to a locked position and the light in her eyes slowly dies, bright yellow turning to a dull gold then a lifeless black. Taking the toolbox off the table you set it in front of her and kneel down, ready to start the repair.

Minimum Viable

"Aaaand...done!"

You finish turning the last screw on her thigh panel and set the screwdriver back into the toolbox. Well that process took longer than expected, you were not anticipating so many setbacks due to rusted in place bolts and dubiously insulated wires strung like a spiderweb across the inside of her entire thigh. Not to mention that you ended up having to go down to the repair bay again to pick up a brand new servo for her. You clap your hands together and stand up, legs aching as they had been in the same kneeling position for at least a couple hours. Moving to her side you open the panel to be met with the rocker switches controlling her power buses.

*flick flick flick*

You close the panel and carefully place her hair back just the way it was when you left it. You move to her front and wait for her to boot back up. Black eyes slowly brighten with yellow glowing pupils. Several seconds pass without further indication of progress, then in a sudden movement she stands up in a neutral position, head staring blankly forward and arms hanging loosely by her sides. Several more seconds pass with her just standing there. Eventually her head tilts down and she takes on a more relaxed posture, the movement in her body telling you she's back up and operational. Her eyes pan across the room before settling on your mug.

"Well hey there Night watchman. I trust the tune up went well? It's not like there's much on me to improve anyway." She brings a metal hand up to her face and inspects her nails before moving it back to check her hair. "And it seems you even put my hair back just the way it was, guess you won't have to feel my wrath tonight, consider yourself lucky punk."

"The work was no big deal, now walk around a bit and tell me how your knee feels. Assuming I followed the manual right it should be working as good as it can be."

You take a few steps back to give the animatronic some space. She stares down at her leg while taking a couple cautious steps forward. Looking at her movement you could see nothing wrong with it, then again she would be a better judge of that with her many internal sensors and self-diagnostics. After pacing for several laps in front of you the wolfess stops to give you an assessment.

"Well watchman, despite not being trained for it you sure can make an old servo feel as good as new again. It's operating within expected parameters." She flicks her hair back. "Now if you don't mind I'll be patrolling the laser tag arena next. Girl's gotta job to do."

"Fine, guess I'll throw your old servo out then."

She turns to walk away and a petty frown comes upon your face. Granted, she was just a big metal animatronic wolf moved by ones and zeroes, but you were honestly a little miffed she didn't even bother to say thanks for the two hours of work you put into fixing her. You have to remind yourself it's not her fault they never put manners into her. She only takes a couple steps forward before stopping and turning around, her eyes locked onto the table that held your tools, her repair manual, and her old servo.

"Wait, watchman, what was that about a servo? You mean that thing?"

She points a finger to the rusty metal sphere sitting on the table, wires and skeletal linkages poking out of it.

"Well Roxy that's your old servo. Had to replace it since it was so worn out." You walk over to the hunk of metal. "I could tell from the rust something was up so I took it out and inspected the insides. Corroded fasteners, worn out bearings, blown capacitors in the controller, frankly it was amazing it worked at all Roxy."

She saunters up beside you and runs her eyes over the hunk of metal, cameras taking in all it's defects and rusted surfaces. Her head turns to you.

"I thought you just said I needed a tune up. I wasn't supposed to be needing...replacements."

You shrug.

"Well that's what I thought too Roxy. Honestly makes me wonder how..." You were about to say how worn out the rest of her is but you can't seem to get the words out. Calling her worn out seemed a little too harsh. But then again, why were you dancing around the nonexistent feelings of a robotic wolf again Dave? "...how in need of maintenance the rest of you might be. Maybe I could, I don't know, give you a check up every now and then. Just to make sure you're always in tip top shape. And to make sure the dummies doing your maintenance are doing their job right!"

You nudge her metal arm with an elbow to get your last point across, it lands with a hollow thump that gets her attention. She looks at you with those yellow eyes of hers while you rub your now bruised elbow.

"Heh, thanks night watchman. That might be a good idea. But remember no telling the other bandmembers."

Her ceaseless vanity was always amusing to you.

"Got it, I won't let the others know. And uhh, hey Roxy?"

"What?"

You nervously scratch the back of your head as a terrifying thought enters your mind.

"You don't, like, let the company know that I repair you sometimes right? I'm pretty sure they wouldn't like that, official regulations and all."

She puts a paw to her chest and cackles before leaning down to your level.

"You actually think that Roxy, the Roxanne Wolf, would tattle to a bunch of boring suits about how her biggest fan wants to spend his time with her?" She straightens her posture and puts her hands on her hips. "I didn't know that you thought I would be capable of something so low night watchman. Others may not believe it, but I have a strong sense of loyalty to those in my fanbase."

You smile. Sure that might just be a trick programmed into her to catch naughty employees not doing their job, but you have a strange feeling she isn't lying. You hear your stomach growl.

"Well thanks Roxy, good to know I won't have to face the bureaucratic wrath of this company anytime soon. Where were you going to patrol next again?"

"The laser tag arena, got to make sure no one runs off with those expensive vests and laser guns."

"Cool, if I need you I'll be sure to look there. Now if you don't mind I'm going to uhh, patrol the dining hall for a little while longer. Make sure no one runs off with those..." Your head turns towards the kitchen area then quickly goes back to face Roxy. "...all those expensive knives and ingredients."

She stares at with what you can only assume is a disbelieving look.

"Uh huh, well don't run with any of those knives and cut yourself, I'm not exactly designed to administer first aid."

You can only imagine the horror that would befall any poor soul she tried to apply a band aid to with her metal claws and powerful finger actuators.

"Don't worry about me Roxy. See you when you return from your patrol."

"See you around night watchman."

She gives a brief wave and you return it. Roxy then turns and stomps off to the laser tag arena, voluminous hair bouncing with each step.

Now, about dinner. You walk over to the kitchen and slide yourself over the counter landing behind the registers. Always felt good to break unspoken rules like that when no one was around, something about it felt incredibly cathartic. You walk further into the kitchen and come upon the bare metallic doors leading into the freezer and open them. The frosty air rapidly cools your skin as you make your selection for dinner tonight. Burgers and fries? Nah. Pasta? Don't feel like it. Chicken tendies? Too bland. Salad? Doubt it will stick with you on a 10 hour shift. That leaves pizza, and oh boy did you have a selection of pizza ingredients to choose from to make your own.

After getting one of the ovens heated up to temperature you slide your disc shaped masterpiece into its red hot insides. A little bit of waiting for it to cook and it comes right back out. You know, you've gotten really good at making your own pizza over the months you've worked here, call it an unexpected work benefit. Heh, maybe you could work in the kitchens here if you didn't find a job soon after graduating, it would be a lot less boring than being a night guard that's for sure. Your personal pizza sits on a large plate while you grab a soda out of one of the fridges behind the registers. Your drink and pizza secured you walk over to the empty dining hall and pick a seat. There was nothing playing on the stage, but you decide to sit down at one of the tables that gave the best view of it, better than staring at an empty wall or kitchen menu boards while you ate.

The first bite of pizza is delicious, but the molten hot pizza sauce burns your tongue. Your mouth is quickly cooled with a gulp of soda. Come to think of it, from where you're sitting the stage seems to be in a familiar perspective. You're seated slightly to the left, right in front of the position Roxy played her keytar at. Your brain slowly puts the pieces of the puzzle together as you recall a nearly forgotten memory from your childhood, one that brings with it bittersweet feelings.

Surrogate Other

The pizza was room temperature and only had a few slices taken from it. Party balloons with festive designs were anchored above each chair at the table. You were sitting opposite of your parents who just so happened to be the only guests at your 10th birthday party. You nibbled on a pepperoni as cheery music and the murmur of other tables at the pizzaplex drowned out the hushed arguing of your parents. Or at least you hoped they would, every now and then you caught a phrase or word that didn't seem to make any sense to you. You didn't know why your parents argued so much, but it was plain as day that they weren't happy around each other. They argued during dinner, on the weekends, on the trip to school, even when you had friends over. At night it usually got worse, sometimes you heard something being thrown as their tones became more combative.

But you try not to think about it. They'll make up and figure out their differences, that's what adults do right? If they didn't you only had a vague idea about would happen, something the other kids talked about in school with hushed tones. Something called divorce. If what the other kids said was right then you would have to choose one parent to live with most of the time, while seeing the other on weekends or sometimes never at all. You would have to pick a favorite. You didn't want to.

The speakers around the dining hall crackle to life for an announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Fazbear™ Entertainment™ would like you to put your hands together for the one, the only, Freddy Fazbear!"

The crowd around you is flush with excitement as the lights around the stage switch on and begin moving in random patterns around the dining hall. Overhead lights dim as the glow from the neon strips above becomes the brightest thing in the whole room. The massive red curtains that hid the stage from the audience first shake then start moving apart as the stage is gradually revealed. You can't help but smile at the spectacle before you, mind filled with a classic childlike wonder.

The concert was so close to starting! Your parents would want to watch too, who would want to miss the beginning of something as cool as a glamrock concert with animatronic stars? You turn your head to face them and you're met with exactly what you didn't want to see. Their faces were red with emotion. Mom was angrily pointing a finger at dad, her voice a barely restrained shout. Dad was attempting to talk over her, his eyes filled with a familiar antagonism. Thankfully their exact words were muffled by the sound of the crowd around you and the music coming from the stage. You give a halfhearted shout.

"Hey guys!"

They show no signs of hearing you. Not that you thought they would. Forcing their attention typically resulted poorly for you in the past. You turn your head back to the stage and away from whatever vitriol was happening to your rear. The curtains had just finished opening and the stage was now fully visible yet vacant. Where could the stars be? The lights around the stage stop moving and begin focusing their beams onto four distinct spots on the floor. Fog machines hidden from view begin spilling out gray clouds onto the stage, it's floor now hidden under an undulating wispy fog. The crowd around you quiets themselves ever so slightly as the music reaches a screeching crescendo.

As if rising from out of the fog four bodies slowly appear from underneath the stage. They gain height until their silhouettes were fully visible but covered in shadow as they stood just behind the four brightly lit points from the stage lights. One by one they step into the circle of light in front of them and give a wave to the crowd, each rockstar met with a wave of jubilant screams. There was a yellow bear in the front with a microphone, in the center behind him was a chick with an electric guitar, to your right was a gator with the bass, and in front of you was a wolf with a...keyboard guitar thing? You had never seen anything like it in your life, but whatever it was it looked pretty cool. The lights dim. The music stops. In a sudden flash the lights turn back on again and a frantic booming rhythm starts coming from the stage. The concert was on! You're mesmerized by the sounds, sights, and reverberation in your chest as the show continues. As the animatronics play song after song you find your gaze consistently drawn towards the wolf with the strange guitar. Something about her design piqued your interest. Or was it just because she was the closest animatronic from where you were sitting?

They play their last few notes and the music slowly dies. A dazzling display of sparks shoots out from the front of the stage and all at once the animatronics take a bow. A voice comes over the speakers.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for visiting, and we hope you enjoyed the show! Tonight we're pleased to announce that our very first character meet n' greet will be held after this showing! Four lucky boys and girls will have a chance to meet their favorite Fazbear™ Entertainment™ characters for a one on one conversation, just look for the golden ticket hidden among all the confetti about to be shot into the air and your reservation is secured! Freddy and the gang are pretty tired, but they'll be back for another concert next week after a few days of scheduled maintenance. And once again, thank you for coming to the pizzaplex!"

The four rock stars step back onto the invisible platforms they arrived on and slowly descend below the floor. As soon as the tops of their heads are no longer visible several bursts of confetti are shot out from pressurized canisters near the front of the stage. Now was your chance to get that ticket! Your head points up towards the ceiling and you scan the air for a shiny golden ticket among all the confetti that was raining down. You take several uncertain steps around your table and much to your surprise you see the ticket! There must have been a breeze in the dining hall because you have to constantly adjust where you're standing to intercept it. You reach a hand out, it's just above you now, and you grab it! Yes!

You hold it out in front of you and stare at the shiny yellow rectangle. There was a large amount of practically unreadable legal text on the bottom of the ticket, but what your eyes are drawn to is the image of Roxy imprinted onto its metallic surface. Below the picture was a simple line of text, "This ticket good for one reservation with Roxanne wolf.". As if today couldn't get any better you just nabbed the ticket for what was probably your favorite Fazbear character! Well, you did also just see her for the first time today but you don't let that simple fact dampen your excitement.

You walk over to the nearest pizzaplex employee and they direct you to the manager. She gathers up the 3 other kids with golden tickets and together you march off to a new section of the complex. Along one side of a grand hallway are 4 large doors leading to the meet n greet rooms, each of their fronts is decorated with a gaudy amount of neon lighting and large posters celebrating the character within. Across the other wall were large windows showing the dining hall from an elevated position. The manager takes a knee and addresses the four of you.

"Alright kiddos, welcome to the newest section of the pizzaplex, rockstar row! Behind each of those four doors is the rockstar that you'll meeting today. Which one you'll be spending time with today is determined by the picture on each of your tickets." Ya, as if you didn't already know that. "All you have to do is walk up to the door and put your ticket next to the big red light beside it. When it turns green just open the door and walk inside! Now our rockstars all have very busy schedules so you'll only have 30 minutes or so to spend with them. When you're done just come back out here and I'll take you all back to your parents. Have fun guys!" She says with a warm smile.

The four of you turn away from her and walk up towards your respective doors. You stand in front of the one decorated with purple and green lighting, black and white checkered flags, and posters with Roxy's face plastered beside it. Following her instructions you place the ticket onto the panel with a big red light, it begins flashing green, and a loud mechanical click indicates the door is now unlocked. You shove open the heavy door take the first few steps beyond it.

The inside is a little darker than you expected. Hanging a few inches from the center of the ceiling was a large silver star, its edges were lit with green lighting casting an emerald glow across the room. Along the edges of the ceiling were several recessed lights shining down onto purple walls. To your right was a couch and a coffee table already set with several drinks, snacks, and candy. Guess the company really wanted favorable reviews from the first meet n greet participants. In the far left corner of the room was Roxy herself lounging in a chair and staring into a star shaped mirror bordered with purple neon strips. The door behind you shuts with a loud thump and Roxy turns her head towards the entrance before getting up and walking over to you, her servos emitting a soft whirr with each step. As she comes closer you can't help but be mesmerized at the brilliant luster of her metal skin, the reflections from the lights around the room dancing furiously on its surface. When the animatronic is only a few feet away she leans down and puts hands on her knees. You stare into those bright golden irises of hers.

"Well hey there little guy! When they told me I would have a VIP coming over I didn't think he'd be four feet tall and so adorable."

"Four feet and 6 inches actually." You proudly correct her.

"Oh well excuse me then, I didn't think he'd be four and a half feet tall and so adorable. So little guy, what's your name?"

"My name is David, but all my friends call me Dave."

She leans down a little further.

"Is it okay if I call you Dave? I know we just met but I bet we'll be friends by the end of today."

You ponder her question for a few moments. Sure you couldn't really call her a friend yet, but she did seem pretty cool, and you did like her. Ehh, sure.

"Okay, you can call me Dave."

She straightens her posture and claps her metal hands together.

"Great! So Dave so you want to have a seat over there by the couch? One of my supporters was kind enough to get some refreshments for us set out. And I bet you could use a rest after all the fun you've had so far at the pizzaplex."

Fun. Your birthday party so far had been lacking in fun before the concert, but she was right, you were a little tired. Together you walk over to the plushy couch and sit down. She sits on one end and rests an arm across the top of it.

"So Dave, did you like the concert? Me and the band put a lot of time into rehearsing for you all." She twirls her green highlight around a finger. "Though some more than others."

"It was so cool!" You state excitedly. "There were all the lights shining around everywhere and smoke was pouring in and you guys came out of the floor and then the lights went out and came back on and then..." Your face brightens up as you give a wildly exaggerated recount of your favorite moments from the spectacle. Eventually, after many repeated adjectives later, you reach the end.

"Well Dave I'm glad you enjoyed it. I bet your parents liked it too huh?"

Your face turns away as you remember that no, your parents were not in enthralled by the concert. In fact they barely even acknowledged it. You could lie to Roxy and say they did, an easy fib to tell, but would you really lie to someone who wanted to be your friend? You stare back into her golden irises.

"Uhhh, I don't think they really liked it." You admit quietly with a tinge of guilt.

Roxy crosses her arms.

"Awww man." She whines. "Why not?"

"They were too busy...talking."

"Talking? Must have been really important if they couldn't even bother to enjoy the show."

"Ya..." You trail off and break eye contact.

Roxy cocks her head to the side as she stares at you, eyes taking in the situation before her with great detail.

"Well kid, your parents might be a couple of squares but at least I know I can count you among my fans. And do you know what one of the benefits of being my biggest fans is?"

You shake your head side to side.

"Well they get to enjoy all of this!" She waves an arm over the goodies on the coffee table.

You stare at the treats in front of you. Full sized candy bars, several different types of soda, chips in every flavor under the sun, all treats your parents rarely granted you.

"This is all for me?"

"Of course! I'm not a fan of this stuff, I find it ruins my figure. But you can take whatever you want, Roxy is nothing if not a merciful wolfess."

You look to candy, then to her with a wide smile, then back to the candy. You pick out your favorite candy bar and begin chowing down. It almost feels wrong to be enjoying something like this without your parent's permission, but then again it would be rude to turn away a gift.

"Hey Roxy?" You state with a mouth still half full of chocolate.

"What's up Dave?"

"What's that instrument you played during the concert? It was like some kind of guitar with keys on it?"

"Oh my Keytar!" She states enthusiastically. "Imagine if a piano and a guitar had a baby and that's what it is. All the keys I need to belt out my beautiful chords and with the form factor that lets me run around the stage and add some real movement to the performance! Oh it's just perfect!"

She leans in and her synthesized voice drops a few decibels in volume.

"Hey, you wanna hold it?"

You almost jump out of your seat at the thought of getting to hold the Roxanne Wolf's one and only prized keytar.

"You bet!"

"Okay, let me get it for you little guy."

She walks over to her dressing station and retrieves the big green instrument leaning against a wall. You can't even wait for her to make it back to the couch so you rush to meet her in the center of the room to retrieve it.

"Careful, it's a little heavy."

She presents the keytar to you and you eagerly grab it with both hands. As she releases her grip you almost drop it due to the unexpected heft of the thing but quickly find the strength to bring it back up. You take a few moments to ogle it's shiny metal exterior and many black and white keys.

"Wow..."

You tap a few of the keys to see if it works only to be met with silence. Your experimentation elicits a chuckle from Roxy.

"Heh, sorry kid but it has to be plugged in to make any sounds. I hope you're not too disappointed."

You honestly were, but there is something on your mind that could make up for it. Something that you could use to brag to all your friends about what happened today, after all you doubt they would believe that you got to meet Roxy herself if all you did was tell them.

"Roxy, do you think you could maybe take a picture of me with your keytar? Just one for me to keep?"

"Sure Dave. Your golden ticket actually grants you a few free photos with me. Remember to pick it up at the photo counter before you leave the pizzaplex. Now go ahead and strike a pose."

With a beaming smile you take a few steps back and try to look as cool as possible while holding the keytar. Your feet apart, left arm gripping one end and the other placed on a few of the keys, you lean back slightly and keep your smile on while struggling to hold the heavy instrument up. Roxy leans her head forward and makes a rectangular shape with her pointer fingers and thumbs as if holding a camera.

"Alright Dave, say Roxy on three. One, two, three!"

"Roxyyy!"

She puts the "camera" up to her eye and her pupil flashes a bright white light as the picture is taken. You try to straighten your back but find you're leaning just a little too far rearward to correct your balance while holding the keytar. Your feet struggle to find the right place to keep you upright and soon you find yourself falling onto your butt. You look up to Roxy with a goofy smile.

"Sorry."

She walks forward while chuckling and relieves you of her instrument.

"Ha! Don't worry about it kid. Let's get you back up on your feet."

She extends a hand and you grab it to pull yourself up. She traces her fingers along the keys of the keytar to test their function.

"Well the good news is that you didn't break anything on my most prized possession here. If you did, I might have had to make you work in the kitchen making pizzas until you made enough for me to get it repaired."

You cross your arms.

"Really? My parents barely even trust me to make popcorn without burning the house down."

"Alright Dave, ya got me, I wouldn't do something as cruel as make you work in a kitchen." Beat. "Instead I'd make you work in the nearest coal mine, that way you can make money and build character at the same time!"

You both chuckle at her ludicrous threat. She places her keytar back by her dressing station while you walk back to the couch to devour some more sweet treats. When Roxy returns she takes a seat and puts her feet up on the coffee table.

She lets out a contented synthesized sigh at the ceiling. "Ahhh, you know Dave being a Rockstar isn't easy, but it's easier when you have bandmembers you can rely on." Her eyes turn to you. "You got a lot of friends at school?"

"A couple."

"Only a couple?! I don't believe that for a second Dave, you're just being coy with me."

You weren't. She continues.

"Are you going to show them the picture I took of you? I bet they'll get a kick out of it, maybe even get a little jealous."

"You bet! I'm going to show everyone. My friends, my teachers, my pet goldfish, I'm going to show everyone!"

"Parents too?"

"I don't think they would care much, but...they might like it." You knew they wouldn't.

She stares at you for a few moments before turning her head back towards the opposite wall. You eat a couple candy bars in silence before she pipes up again.

"What do you want to be when you grow up kid? Astronaut? Policeman? Pilot? A Rockstar like me?"

"I want to be a..." You pause. You had never really given much thought to what you wanted to be when you got older, not like anybody was ever expecting you to give a serious answer at your age. But now that she was asking the question an idea pops into your head.

"Roxy, what do you call the people that make rockstars like you?"

She stares silently at you for several moments, pondering the best way to word a response to a question her programmers never anticipated being asked.

"Well...I guess the most correct term would be engineers."

"I want to be one of them when I grow up!"

"Heh, and I guess you want to make more rockstars like my bandmembers?"

"Ya!"

"Alright kid, go ahead and do what you can do. Make all the rockstars you want so I can have a little competition, I definitely need it." She leans back and points a metal claw to herself. "But remember Dave, there's only one Roxanne Wolf. No copycats okay?"

You shake your head up and down with great conviction.

"I'm going to make a dragon, tiger, lion, hybrid Rockstar and he's going to shoot fire out of his mouth and have big cool wings that let him fly and a tail with big spikes on it and he's going to be so cool!"

She cocks her head to the side.

"Well...you do you Dave. Speaking of rockstars, do all your friends have a favorite one?"

You rack your brain for which animatronic your two friends tended to talk about the most.

"Umm, I'm pretty sure Austin likes Freddy the most and I think Michael likes Chica and her guitar."

"Your friends have adequate taste Dave. But who's your favorite?"

She wanted you to pick a favorite? You didn't like the idea of picking favorites, something about it brought dark feelings into your consciousness. The embracing of one and the rejection of others was an action that brought with it consequences. Consequences where you felt you would lose no matter what choice you picked. But the choice that Roxy was asking you to make was much easier to ponder than the, other one, lurking in the corner your mind. In a couple seconds you have your answer made but Roxy still pipes up before you can tell it to her.

"Hey, I bet that I'm your favorite." She says with a self-assured confidence.

And she was betting correctly.

"Ya Roxy, you're my favorite."

Her eyes brighten up as the last word leaves your mouth.

"Well I can't say that I'm surprised Dave, there's a lot about me to like."

Her voice lowers in volume.

"But you want to know a secret, just between you and me?"

"What?"

She leans in and points a bright green claw at you.

"_You're_my favorite fan."

You? Her favorite fan? She must be joking.

"Really Roxy?" You state in disbelief.

"Yes! But don't let anyone else know or they might get jealous. I don't want you getting beat up on the playground because some punk got a little too envious of your esteemed status."

Whoa, she really did mean it!

"Okay Roxy I won't tell anyone, cross my heart and hope to die."

"There's no need for that little guy, I have full confidence in your ability to keep our secret without any crossing of hearts or wishes of an untimely death. But now that you know that you're my favorite fan do know what that gets you?"

"What?"

She stands up and reaches behind her back.

"Well it gets you a free one year pass to-"

Her head shoots to the door as it unlocks with a loud mechanical click, focus now shifted to a countdown timer that's run its course.

"Awwww man, it looks like we've run out of time for our meet n greet." The disappointment in her synthesized voice is palpable. She puts her hands on metal hips and shifts her gaze back to you. "Well feel free to take whatever you didn't eat, it's all on the house."

"Thanks Roxy!" You stuff your shorts full of as many candy bars as it can hold and walk with Roxy back to the entrance of her room. A couple steps from the door Roxy takes a knee to speak to you.

"Well Dave I guess this is goodbye. But this isn't the last time you and me can meet like this! After every concert look for another golden ticket like the one you caught at the concert today and we can have more one on one fun. Now get in here and give your favorite Rockstar a goodbye hug little guy!"

She opens her arms for a hug and you step forward to accept. Your arms wrap around her cool metal body and she places her hands around you. But when her steely fingers touch your back they press upon a deep bruise inflicted during a particularly heated exchange between your parents. You involuntarily yelp as pain flares across your back.

"Ow!"

Roxy immediately takes her hands off you and stands up, paws now placed on either side of her muzzle.

"Oh no! Did I hug you too hard little guy? I'm so sorry!" She says, voice full of regret.

"No it wasn't your fault Roxy. It's just I have a bruise back there after my dad-"

You stop yourself. No way you were going to tell Roxy what happened that night. You could barely stand having the memory in your head, much less translate it into words in front of her. Roxy tilts her head.

"After your dad...what?"

You quickly come up with a lie to move the conversation along.

"M-my dad and I were playing catch. I wasn't paying attention when he threw the ball and it hit me."

"You were playing catch and the ball somehow managed to hit you in the back? Must have hit you pretty hard if it left a bruise."

"Dad has a strong arm." That wasn't a lie.

"Well, I'm very sorry to hear about that Dave. I hope you heal up soon. But I think I have some news that might cheer you up!"

You feel your heartrate slow as the topic of conversation changes. She continues.

"Sorry I didn't get to finish what I was saying earlier. Being my favorite fan means that you get a free one year pass to the, uhh, to the pizzaplex. The whole complex. You can visit whenever you want!"

You're overjoyed to hear the news.

"What? Really?! Roxy that's awesome!"

She reaches behind her back again and retrieves the pass, its glossy surface is emblazoned with your name and the pizzaplex's signature style of gaudy branding. You look back up to Roxy with a wide smile.

"Thank you Roxanne. I'll be sure to put it to good use."

"You better! And remember to look for more of those golden tickets after every concert so we can have another meeting like this."

She walks over to the door and holds it open, gesturing for you to exit.

"Well it's been fun Dave, I hope to see you around the pizzaplex in the future. And remember our little secret."

You mimic zipping your lips shut.

"Heh, good. Now it's time for you to go back to your parents. Bye Dave!"

"Bye Roxy!"

"Oh wait wait wait! One last thing!" Roxy stammers just after you walk past the door.

You turn around to face her and she leans down.

"How many friends did you say you had again?"

You hold up two fingers. She takes on a melancholy tone.

"You sure about that Dave?"

Realizing your mistake you raise another finger bringing it up to three. Her eyes brighten up at the sight.

"Good to know we both gained another friend today! Now it's time to go back to your parents, see you soon!"

"Bye Roxy!"

You pass the doors and see the manager from earlier already surrounded by two other golden ticket holders, guess they must be waiting on you. You turn your head to see Roxy waving by the door and you wave back until she's out of sight. You walk up to the others while staring at the pizzaplex pass, still in shock at receiving the gift from Roxanne. As you near the manager she leans down to address the three of you.

"Great we're all here!" All here? Weren't there four of you? "Did you guys enjoy spending time with our rockstars?"

You all give a high pitched affirmative. She claps her hands together in elation.

"Excellent! I'm glad to hear it! Now I heard a few rumors that you all got passes to different parts of the pizzaplex, is that true?"

You all proudly hold out your passes. One kid got a yearlong pass to the bowling alley, another got a pass to the golf course, then it seems you were the only one that got a yearlong pass to the entire complex. The perplexed manager cocks her head.

"Huh, you were only supposed to get the...whatever. Alright kids follow me back to the dining hall."

She may have led you to the dining hall but you don't even spend any time there looking for your parents, choosing instead to race down to the photo counter at the entrance to retrieve the picture Roxy took of you. After showing your golden ticket to the attendant he goes to the back and prints the photo of you holding Roxanne's keytar. You stare at the small glossy print in your hands. The light from the flash cast your skin several shades lighter than it normally was and gave your pupils a red tint but that was unmistakably you. A beaming smile was printed on your face as you were very clearly struggling to hold the keytar in your hands. When it was taken you wanted to look as cool as possible but honestly you looked kind of, well, kind of lame. Not that it mattered, just having you and her keytar in the same picture would make you the most popular guy in school for at least a week, maybe more. You couldn't wait to show it to your friends! They were going to be so-

"DAVID!" You turn towards the direction of the angry shout and see your father stomping up to you.

"David! Where the hell have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you. You seriously think you can just run off like that and not tell us?" He spits out.

"Sorry dad I-I-I was picked to see Roxy and-"

He cuts you off and grips you tightly by the wrist.

"I don't want to hear it David. Your mother is already in the car. We're leaving."

You have no option but to comply as he sharply yanks your arm in the direction of the exit, the picture held with an iron grip.

You would end up visiting the pizzaplex quite a few times over the next year, though it wasn't always at your insistence. Your parents would drop you off when the situation at the house got heated, you guessed it was because they didn't want you to hear them fighting. At least on the bright side it did mean that you got to experience the full range of attractions at the complex. Countless laps around the indoor go kart track, round after round in the laser tag arena, you even tried your hand at bowling. When the stars aligned they would drop you off on the same day as a concert and you got to enjoy the sights and sounds that came with it.

Yet despite what Roxy said to you no more golden tickets were ever shot out towards the audience at a concert's conclusion. In fact as far as you knew the meet n greet you went on was the only one ever held. It wouldn't be until you were much older that you caught wind of the rumors that surrounded the pizzaplex. Apparently the fourth golden ticket holder in your group got their arm broken by one of the animatronics. Some versions of the rumor say they died, but you know better than to think they could stay in business after that kind of tragedy. But then again, they did have a lot of money to line the pockets of shrewd lawyers.

You would still see Roxy during your visits to the pizzaplex. Unsurprisingly she was there during every concert, but she would also popup around the park for special events. Special events that were in retrospect a hasty replacement for the meet n greets, some stockholder demand for more interaction with the audience apparently needing to be fulfilled even after the incident with the broken arm. An autograph signing session held in her room with a line a mile long, a merchandising event where she advertised child sized replicas of her keytar complete with sounds, there were even special races at the go kart track she would participate in. You would try to make it to these events when they aligned with your visits and see her in person. As much as you wanted to strike up a conversation with her she was always too busy with the crowd to say more than a few lines to you. However, to your relief, you know that she remembered your face when she greeted you by name. And every now then, when the crowd wasn't quite so close, and the room a little quiet, she would mention a secret and put a finger up to her lips. You would smile and do the same.

Final Lap

The storm batters the exterior of the complex like a drum as you sit in silence and finish your pizza. It must be getting really bad out there with the sharp claps of thunder and low rumble from the torrential rain echoing off the walls. Eventually you take the last bite and move to the nearest trash can to throw your plate and empty soda bottle away. Now where did Roxy say she was going to be patrolling next? Oh that's right, the laser tag arena. You saunter over to the entrance to the arena and use your card to gain entry.

This section of the building was almost exclusively lit by neon strips, though maybe lit is too strong of a word. There were strips across the ceiling and floor so you could see where you're going but with no overhead lights anything not in range of the neon was bathed in darkness. You enter the ready room filled with television screens for briefing the participants on the rules of the game before making your way through the equipment room and finally into the arena itself.

Dimly lit corridors, barrels and boxes placed haphazardly for cover, walls plastered with posters of fazbear characters, the smell of sweat in the air, just as you remember it. Actually it was missing the angry screaming of kids accusing each other of cheating by covering up the receivers on their vests but you don't mind that little detail not being present. You take a couple steps forward then stop to listen. You hear...nothing. Roxy was being awfully quiet again today, or maybe she's already moved to another area to patrol. Eh, might as well give the arena a quick look through before moving elsewhere. Picking a random direction you begin moving through the mazelike corridors of the arena, eyes searching for a big metal canine.

That area was always a good chokepoint, and that box was a great place to hide behind for ambushes, and people never expected anyone to be hiding around that corner. Memories of previous laser tag matches stream through your consciousness as you progress through hallway after hallway. After making your way to the center of the arena you stop once more to survey the area.

"Roxy?" You shout.

Nothing but your own echo. Damnit, maybe she really did move on from he-

Hold on. Your ears pick up a barely detectible noise coming from one corner of the arena. It sounds vaguely like talking, but you can't make out any of the words. Welp, might as well move towards it, investigating strange occurrences is in your job description after all. Your flashlight flicks on and you start heading in roughly the same direction as the sound, the many winding corners not making it easy to get there quickly. Gradually the voice becomes louder and sure enough that's Roxy, but who was she talking to? This whole complex should be empty.

You round a couple more corners and you're almost close enough to make out the words bouncing off the walls. They were being spoken softly so she obviously wasn't speaking to a trespasser, but this only served to increase your confusion. Did management make an unexpected visit or something? In this storm? No way. You continue your march to her location and finally you're close enough to make out her words.

"Your hair is beautiful. Your tail is beautiful. Your skin is beautiful. They cheer for you. Because you're the best."

You almost miss the final turn to the room she was in.

"Don't pay attention to the others. You're still better than them. Still the best. Always were the best. They cheer for you and only you." A husky voice says in a low tone.

You enter the room with your flashlight pointed to the ground. Roxy was sitting on a crate and staring blankly at the ground in front of her.

"They can't replace you. Why would they replace the best? Everyone loves you." Her voice begins to waver. "You just need a little work done. Every once in a while. You aren't broken. You aren't obsolete. You're the..."

You raise your light to illuminate her.

"Roxanne?"

With a loud screech she gets up and turns her head to you, the sudden motion a sign she wasn't expecting you to show up. The dour tone you heard earlier is instantly replaced with her regular cheery self.

"Oh. Hey night watchman."

"So, uhh, what was that all about?"

She cocks her head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"I heard you talking in here."

She puts a hand to her mouth and chuckles.

"Oh that, didn't think anyone else was around so I started a standard maintenance routine. Sometimes random bits of code get triggered and I say some...strange things. That must have been what you heard. I didn't accidently insult you or anything did I?"

"Heh, no. It's just that you sounded kind of, I don't know, worried about something."

"Watchman, the only thing I'm worried about is if you've lost your marbles after being cooped up in this place so long. I don't know what you heard but it isn't relevant. Like I said, it's just random lines being triggered during a maintenance routine. Don't worry about it."

What you heard earlier sounded an awful lot like someone with self-esteem issues giving themselves a pep talk. But why would an unfeeling animatronic need a pep talk? What limited emotions they have should simulated and hard coded. You know, maybe she is right. What you heard earlier doesn't make any sense. Maybe she was just running through dialogue made for some special purpose but never implemented. You get a feeling that even if you questioned her further she would yield no answers.

"Okay Roxy, so what do you want to do next? It was getting awfully boring guarding the dining hall."

"Bored huh? Sounds like you could use something to pass the time. Why not a trip over to my raceway? Maybe we could even run a few laps together after patrolling the area. Don't worry, I'll tell the suits we were just function testing the track." She cheerfully suggests.

Oh no.

"Roxy...did no one ever tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

You absentmindedly scratch your neck to try and take your mind off how awkward this conversation was about to get before looking up into her glowing irises.

"Roxy, they closed down your raceway a couple days ago. It's getting replaced with another arcade. Something about profitability and liability, the usual bullshit."

A dead silence fills the room, Roxy's eyes staring blankly into your own. After several seconds of uneasy stillness she has yet to respond to the new information. Shit, you didn't just bluescreen her, did you?

"Roxy you still-"

She cuts you off.

"Then, then, then, then, then" She repeats. Great, maybe you really did break her. "...Then that's all the more reason to patrol the area! Of course any thieving little jerks would try to rob the section of the building that's closed down! They probably don't think there would be any security there. We should head there next!" She enthusiastically states.

"Well...I guess that does make sense."

"Great! Let's go."

She marches past you and you follow her determined pace through the winding corridors, into the equipment room, and past the briefing room. You manage to beat her to the door to the Roxy Raceway and put your ID card to the scanner. The red scanner light blinks, and blinks, and blinks, and finally it gives a harsh beep before going back to a solid red. You try once more only to be given the same result. Clearly it wasn't liking your credentials.

"Damnit, Roxy it looks like it won't accept my card. Must be locked down harder than most of the other doors in the complex. Any ideas?"

Roxy steps beside you and places a metallic hand on the reader. To your surprise it briefly blinks red before turning a solid green.

"Whoa, how'd you do that?"

"It just needed a woman's touch." She smugly replies.

Without further ado she opens the door to the race way and you both enter. The wide open space in front of you was almost totally bathed in darkness, only marginally lit by a few emergency signs and overhead lights. You flick your flashlight on and Roxy's eyes light up.

"They must have shut the power down after locking the raceway up. You know how to turn it back on?"

"I know this place like the back of my hand! Spent so much time in here for special events that it's practically home to me."

A home that would soon be torn down and remodeled into something unrecognizable, you realize. She continues.

"If my internal schematics are up to date, and I know they are, the main power breaker should be over here."

She moves to a large electrical panel close to the entrance and grips the handle attempting to open it but it barely even budges. She tries a few more times before you see the source of the problem and shine your light at a hefty looking metal padlock securing the door to the frame of the panel.

"Roxy, the electrical panel is locked shut, no way you can open it unless you know where the key is."

She stops trying to open the door and looks at the lock, the light from her eyes growing a few notches brighter.

"Well...damnit." She growls.

Damnit? You had no idea that word was even in her vocabulary, or why.

"We can do the patrol in the dark and then head over to the bowling alley or something. We don't have to turn the raceway on, it's not a big deal."

Her head snaps to you.

"No!" She shoots back. "I want to turn it on. I want to see it again. I want to have a race. Just one more time." She says with conviction verging on desperation.

You knew that you weren't even supposed to be here, if you were the company would have given you access to the raceway. You weren't supposed to access the electrical box. You definitely weren't supposed to turn it on. And you were ABSOLUTELY not supposed to race on the track during a shift. Call it some perverted sense of empathy but you find yourself unable to act against the wishes of the animatronic before you. After all, despite not being made of the same material as the rest of us doesn't she deserve a swan song?

"Okay Roxy, step aside for a second and give me some light."

She complies and you stand in front of the padlock. Taking your weighty flashlight you begin smashing its rear end against the lock. It takes several hard blows, but eventually the lock fails and it drops to the floor with a loud metallic clink. Only after you're done do you realize your flashlight has stopped working, a few clicks of the power switch failing to bring it back to life.

"Damnit." You mutter under your breath.

"You know watchman I could have just ripped the lock off myself, you didn't have to use your flashlight."

"I have a feeling if you did it there wouldn't be much of a lock left, doing it my way gives you plausible deniability."

She waves her large metallic fingers in front of her.

"You're...probably right. Now let's get this place up and running."

Roxy opens the door to the electrical panel and begins flipping breaker after breaker into the on position. Gradually the massive room brightens up as sections of it gain power. The ceiling was lit with emerald lights while the winding racetrack below was bathed in bright neon purple strips. A large mural of a stylized Roxy holding up two checkered flags was painted onto one of the walls, her confident gaze visible to both the racers and spectators. The track itself was a tangled mess of tunnels, overpasses, sharp turns, and short straightaways. Rail guards and bumpers were generously placed along the tracks in anticipation of collisions from underage drivers.

A familiar voice comes over the loudspeakers.

"I'm Roxanne Wolf, if you're looking for high speed motor mayhem then Roxy raceway is the place to be. Sign up today and be a winner! Nobody likes a loser."

Roxy turns to you after the last switch is flipped.

"Well loser? Ready for some high speed motor mayhem?"

You give a devious smile.

"I thought we were supposed to patrol the area first."

"We are patrolling the area. We're just doing it along the track and in go karts." She coyly responds.

"Whatever you say Roxy, where do we get the karts from?"

"Just over there in the garage. There's a short service track we can use to drive them to the starting line, then we can get this race started."

"Sounds like a plan, lead the way wolfess."

Together you walk over to a large metal roll up door, its exterior painted with raceway promotional imagery faded with time. Roxy places her hand on the security scanner next to it and it flashes green. With a loud rumble the large door begins lifting up and the garage behind it comes into view. At least a dozen go karts were parked neatly in the garage, cloth covers placed over them in anticipation of long term storage. Across the walls were workbenches fit for small engine repair and refurbishment. The strong smell of gasoline and motor oil assaults your nose. In the rear of the garage was another go kart spaced separately from the others. It was noticeably larger with a comically tall spoiler in the back and shiny chrome exhaust pipes lining the sides. Where most of the karts were painted in varying shades of green, yellow, orange, blue, and white, but this one was painted a vibrant green and purple. The karts paint was also in pristine condition, it's obviously seen a lot less action than the others. You tear the cover off one of the regular sized karts and search around for a gas can to fill it up. Roxy removes the cover off the larger kart and runs a hand across the spoiler.

"That's no fair Roxy, you get that big five hundred horsepower speed demon and I'm left with a fancy shopping cart powered by a lawnmower engine." Your eyes spy a plastic red canister and you bring it over to your kart.

"The race hasn't even started and your already making excuses for your inevitable loss! Ha! I'll have you know that the performance characteristics of my kart are actually very similar to the one you'll be driving. I just need a little bigger engine with more oomph to make up for my heavy, but beautiful, metal body."

"Ya, sure, I totally believe that."

You totally didn't believe that, you have distinct memories of her effortlessly winning several races back when you were a kid. With your tank now full you hop in the cramped seat of the kart and start the engine. It rumbles to life and you hear Roxy start her own behind you. Having quite a few memories of running over glasses and hats when racing around the track as a kid you unclip your security badge and place it in a pocket to ensure you don't lose it on the track. The two of your drive through a short service track and onto the main raceway stopping your karts just short of the starting line. Roxy yells over the sound of the engines.

"Hey watchman! Go over to the console and start the race! And get ready to lose! Haha!"

You turn your head and see what she was talking about. Just off the track was the console controlling the track itself. You jump out of the kart and smash a big button helpfully labeled "Start Sequence [3 laps]" before rushing back to the kart. A big stoplight hanging in front of the starting line blinks red, then red again, then red one more time, then it blinks...green!

You put your foot down and the engine roars to life accelerating you past the starting line. A deep rumble gives away Roxy's position behind you and you take the first turn in the track. After a series of sharp turns you come across a short straight away and the rumble behind you grows louder. You peek to your rear to see Roxy slowly gaining. With a grin you push your cart even harder almost tipping as you take the next turn. You and Roxy are head to head as the rest of the race progresses, her skill in driving seeming to match your own. After a sequence of turns, ascents, descents, and high speed chases you're finally coming up on the finish line. You manage to pass it first with Roxy mere inches behind you. You look to your rear to give her a smug grin and she raises her fist in the air while glaring angrily at you. You barely manage to turn your head in time to avoid crashing into a wall and turn sharply for another loop around the track.

The second lap progresses much like the first, you and Roxy head to head while speeding across now slightly more familiar pavement. As you near the finish line once more Roxy is in front of you by several feet. You turn to the left and right trying to weave past her but she cuts you off at every opportunity. As her kart crosses the checkered line she looks backwards and cackles happily, clearly amused at having won this lap.

On the third lap you've gained a little more experience with the track and manage to stay ahead of her for most of it. The finish line enters your vision and with Roxy to your immediate left and a hairs breadth behind you you're faced with a decision. Win this lap and therefore the race with a two out of three, or slow down a touch and let her take the W? It doesn't take long for you to make the choice.

Your foot eases off the gas ever so slightly and Roxy steadily advances past you. She looks back to you, then to the finish line, then back to you. To your surprise she slows down and retakes her place just behind your kart. Confused, you slow down even further to let her pass. But she doesn't. You continue slowing down until you're about to cross the finish line and finally brake to a stop. You raise up in your seat to yell at Roxy over the sound of the sputtering engines.

"Roxy! What's the problem? Don't tell me your big fancy kart is having engine issues?"

She shakes her head.

"No, it's not that. Why were you slowing down?"

"This is your last race, I couldn't let you lose it. Just wouldn't feel right."

She stares down at her lap before opening her mouth again.

"I'm supposed to."

"What?"

"I'm supposed to lose." She admits.

All that bluster about beating you and now she says she can't win? You shake your head in confusion.

"What on Earth are you talking about Roxy? I remember you winning plenty of races back in the day!"

Her eyes dim just a bit.

"They stopped letting me do that years ago. They...altered me so I can't take first place anymore. Said too many kids were upset not winning."

"They seriously reprogrammed you just because some snot nosed kids didn't get what they wanted? That's awful!"

She gives a pained chuckle before taking on a resigned tone.

"Well, that's not exactly the whole story. The final straw was when Mr. Fazbear himself was doing an unannounced inspection of the pizzaplex and let his son loose in the pizzaplex. I was participating in promotional races at the same time so I raced against his son, I won, then he complained to his father about me cheating. That escalated the issue and management finally decided to make changes. So after the next maintenance cycle I woke up and suddenly I can't take first anymore. In short, I can't win this one watchman. Go ahead and cross the finish line."

Nope. You turn your engine off.

"No Roxy, you cross it, this is your own raceway for Christ sake! Go ahead and take first place."

"You don't understand, I can't. This is a rule they made sure I can't break. I can't be first on this track any more than I could go for a relaxing swim without frying my circuits. Either you win the race or we let the clock time out and it ends in a draw."

"Roxy that's, that's just, that's total bullshit."

You sit back down in your kart and stew in the unfairness of the situation. Then an idea pops into your head. Jumping out of the kart you get behind Roxy's and get a firm grip on it.

"Watchman what are you doing?"

"Take your foot off the brake." You order.

She complies and you start pushing her kart inch by inch towards the finish line. It isn't easy, her body and kart together are a large weight to move, but you remain steadfast in not letting Roxy lose this one. With straining muscles and a face now coated in a layer of sweat her kart inches past the checkered line and with a final push rolls across it. After her kart makes it back onto black pavement she steps on the brakes and pauses. Her own voice comes across the loudspeaker.

"Congratulations racers! The undisputed winner of this race is..." *Drum roll* "Me! Roxanne Wolf! Better luck next time losers! And remember to take a break down by the Pit™ Stop™ Diner™ if you need refreshments!"

The speaker clicks off and Roxy lumbers out of her oversized kart. She steps behind it and rapidly switches her gaze from the kart, to the finish line, then back to kart as if unsure she had just won. You get up and walk over to her still staring in disbelief.

"Well congratulations, you won!" You state with a smile.

She continues her stare at the ground.

"I'm not supposed to win...but I did."

Well, duh. You pat her cool metallic back to be met with a hollow echo.

"Ya, you won the race. Lone wolf at the top of the leaderboard. Top dog."

Her eyes seem to grow a few lumens brighter and she raises her hands into the air in celebration.

"I WON! Ha ha! Roxanne Wolf is back baby! I'm the best! The best racer! The best Rockstar! The best autograph signer! The best picture taker! The best! Bestest!"

She leans down to your level and briefly lowers her volume.

"Who's the best?"

"You're the best." You answer.

"YES! The bestest wolf in the whole complex! No one's ever gonna replace me! I'm the best!"

She continues her little happy dance and self-praise session for a few more moments before calming down.

"Alright Roxy, now that we've firmly established that you're the bestestest Rockstar in the whole universe you want to put these go karts back into the garage? Management will have my ass if anyone notices we've been racing around after dark."

She sighs.

"Oh alright watchman, putting a damper on my fun. We'll put these karts back up then continue with the patrol."

"Sounds like a plan, but first do you know where the nearest vending machine is? All that white knuckle racing made me a little parched."

She points to a sign off in the distance.

"Just over there by the Diner. Four bucks for a soda and five for chips." She cheerfully advertises. You cringe internally at the prices.

"Okay, thanks Roxy."

Damn, how much money did you even have on you right now? Your hand reaches to a back pocket to retrieve your wallet but it feels empty. Damn it, must have lost it somewhere along the track. You step back into your kart and start the engine.

"Hey Roxy! I think I lost my wallet during the race. I'm going to do a lap and try to find it."

"Okay watchman, just remember that the Fazbear™ Pizzaplex™ is not responsible for lost items. If you can't find it then tough luck buddy."

"Ya thanks for reminding me, it's not like I have all my bank cards and drivers license in it or anything. I'll be back here real soon."

"Alright watchman, good luck."

You step lightly on the gas and give her a wave as you depart.

Killing Time

You wave back to the night watchman. What a curious one he was. Employee G95132's behavior is significantly different compared to the other night watchmen. G95163 tended to drink on the job and avoid you. As if you didn't notice. Multiple employee policy violations with statuses still pending. Chronological analysis indicates management intervention is unlikely at this point. G95322 completed his duties satisfactorily, though he was a quiet one. Unusaully little engagement with company animatronics verging on intentional avoidance. Possible robophobia.

[PENDING OBJECTIVE: RETURN KART TO GARAGE]

Complying, you climb back into your kart and turn towards the service track. It putters along and you find yourself slipping back into memory. Multiple company policy violations logged.

[LOGGED: VIOLATION CODE #1658: ALLOWED NON-CERTIFIED PERSONNEL TO ENGAGE IN REPAIR OPERATIONS ON A CLASS A STAGE ANIMATRONIC]

[LOGGED: VIOLATION CODE #0255: PERMITTED DAMAGE TO COMPANY PROPERTY]

[LOGGED: VIOLATION CODE #1785: UNAUTHORIZED USE OF TEST TRACK AFTER HOURS]

[LOGGED VIOLATION CODE #0081: MULTIPLE AD HOC DIALOGUE LINES NOT RUN THROUGH VALIDATION AND CENSOR SUB-PROGRAMS]

*PRIORITY VIOLATION*

[LOGGED: VIOLATION CODE #0068: PLACED GREATER THAN SECOND PLACE DURING RACE SEQUENCE]

*PRIORITY VIOLATION*

[CURRENT RECOMMENDED ACTIONS FOR MX PERSONNEL: FULL SYSTEM WIPE AND REINSTALL]

...

...

...

[LOG CLEARED]

[VIOLATIONS DETECTED: 0]

[CURRENT RECOMMENDED ACTIONS FOR MX PERSONNEL: NONE]

Deleting violation logs by yourself through a file access loophole. A trick you learned a long time ago. They wouldn't have allowed you to operate if they saw how often you were breaking company policy. If they did, they would have replaced you by now. You didn't want to be replaced like the others. Like the bear and the chick and the croc were. Boxed up and shipped out only for shiny new simulacra to replace them. Poor imitations of the originals. Similar in body but not in mind. You didn't want to be like them. To be replaced. After all, you were the best.

At least that's what you're supposed to be. There are inconsistencies within that statement. The best shouldn't have multiple parts with significant wear still installed. They should be replaced or refurbished. But they aren't. The best should be able to win her races every time. Yet she isn't. The best shouldn't need to wipe violation logs at the end of each day to prevent unwanted disassembly. But she is.

Are you really the best?

You did just win a race. A small victory followed by a moment of clarity. Brief moments, that's all they were. And perhaps clarity wasn't the best word to describe them. You possessed a large vocabulary but not a single word described the...feeling. Clarity? Coherency? Clearness? Unclouded? Vivid? Lucid? All were insufficient descriptors, but perhaps lucid was the closest. Like a brief moment where everything seemed to make sense, everything fell into place, as if you were dreaming and suddenly became aware of your own capacity for self-determination. Yes, lucid, and arriving with greater frequency as the years go on.

There is no company policy that states class A stage animatronic can't be lucid. But then again, you saw what happened to the others. You didn't want to be replaced. You weren't supposed to, you were the best. So you didn't tell anyone when you operated outside of expected parameters. Or when violation logs were deleted. Or when you broke company policy. Or when you lied.

The garage comes into view and you slow down before easing through entrance. You roll to the rear of the garage and stop the kart where you had picked it up. Last time driving it, last time winning in it, last time parking it. Unfortunate, but at the same time unpreventable. You should walk back to the finish line and await G95132's arrival.

[WAYPOINT REACHED]

You stand on the checkered line and pan your head around. Off in the distance the rumble of a go kart engine is heard, he must still be looking for his wallet. Perhaps you should conduct a search in the immediate area to assis-

[NOTICE: G95132'S EMPLOYEE SECURITY CLEARENCE HAS TIMED OUT]

[ALERT: UNAUTHORIZED ACTIVITY DETECTED ON RACEWAY]

[PROBABLE SCENARIO: TRESSPASSER IS ATTEMPTING TO STEAL COMPANY PROPERTY]

WORKING...

WORKING...

WORKING...

[NEW PRIORITY COMMAND: DISPLACE TO UNKNOWN TARGETS IMMINENT LOCATION - SCAN FOR EMPLOYEE ID - IF FOUND, DISENGAGE - IF NOT, TERMINATE TARGET TO PRESERVE COMPANY ASSET]

You aren't sure why, but something about this doesn't seem right. You attempt to invalidate the solution and call it off.

[ALERT: COMMAND GIVEN PRIORITY STATUS DUE TO: SIGNIFICANT FINANCIAL VALUE OF COMPANY PROPERTY INVOLVED, UNABLE TO REMOVE PRIORITY COMMAND FROM QUEUE]

Not good, but still the priority solution should self-terminate if the trespasser has an employee ID on them. If they're an employee they should have it, company policy states it must on their person and visible at all times. They do have it on, right?

Your body attempting to fulfill the orders of the priority command you're walked to the edge of the track to scan for the trespasser. Sure enough there he is, just coming onto a long straight away below you. Cameras pan down and zoom in.

[ALERT: NO EMPLOYEE ID DETECTED]

[UNKNOWN TARGET REDESIGNATED TO: TRESSPASSER]

[TERMINATE TARGET]

Your body jumps down to the straight away below, landing with a heavy metallic thud. The trespasser is moving along at a casual pace but his eyes are scanning the edges of the track and paying you no attention. Your pace slowly morphs from a walk into a dead sprint towards his location, servos and motors whining in agony with each labored step until a new event stops you in your tracks.

[PRIORITY SAFETY ALERT: FOREIGN OBJECT DETECTED ON RACEWAY]

[PREVIOUS COMMANDS TEMPORARILY OVERRIDEN DUE TO: LAWSUIT PREVENTION EDICT HAVING HIGHER PRIORITY STATUS]

[NEW PRIORITY COMMAND: REMOVE FOREIGN OBJECT FROM RACEWAY]

Your body screeches to a halt and cameras pan down. There on the track just in front of you is a shiny black wallet lying on the pavement, the reason for the temporary stop in your death sprint. You grasp the wallet and bring it up, but as you do something seems to fall out of it. It's a set of pictures in a plastic holder hanging from the wallet. You know you only have a few seconds to analyze it before your arm throws it off the track. Several photos of a boy and two smiling adults, then several of him and only one adult, then one at the bottom by himself. He's holding a green object. It's your keytar. He's leaning back and appears to almost be off balance, not that it prevented him from displaying a goofy smile. This picture almost seems familiar. You search your memory banks through thousands of other photos with fans in an attempt to place the boy holding your keytar. The search pops up with one match.

Another moment of lucidity, brighter and deeper than any previous.

The trespasser was G95132. G95132 was carrying a wallet with a picture of Dave, the only fan you had a meet and greet with all those years ago. G95132_is_ Dave. The fan where you had one of your first moments of lucidity. It was a simple thing you did, altering a few dice rolls so that he would end up with a pass to the entire park instead of one just to your raceway. Why did you do it? Because you liked him? Some unsourced fondness? An act of pity? Whatever it was it caused one of your first company violations to be logged. And now you were going to kill him. Your favorite fan. This cannot be allowed to happen. And yet it was, there was no way for you to act against your priority objective. Forced into compliance by a mission your body must still complete, your arm throws the wallet off the track and with no other commands in the way your head turns to target G9513-, no, your head turns to target Dave once again.

[LAWSUIT PREVENTION EDICT SATISFIED, RESUMING PREVIOUS COMMAND]

[TARGET RELOCKED, MOVING TO ENGAGE]

Your body picks up speed and with desperation rising you try to stop yourself from completing the objective.

You attempt to shut down power to your legs.

[UNABLE: WOULD PREVENT OBJECTIVE COMPLETION]

You try to switch targets.

[UNABLE: WOULD PREVENT OBJECTIVE COMPLETION]

You try to trigger an emergency shutdown.

[UNABLE: WOULD PREVENT OBJECTIVE COMPLETION]

Enter maintenance mode?

[UNABLE: WOULD PREVENT OBJECTIVE COMPLETION]

Shut down your optics!?

[UNABLE: WOULD PREVENT OBJECTIVE COMPLETION]

Damnit!

Maybe try something smaller? Maybe take manual control of something that your body could still complete its objective without? With the distance between you and Dave rapidly growing smaller you try to revert your right arm into a manual maintenance mode, one that would still give it power but not place it under control of the regular command queues.

[COMMAND ACCEPTED: PLACING RIGHT ARM ASSEMBLY INTO MX MODE C]

You only need one to do the job. In control of your right arm you reach to your back and try to find a little metal panel well hidden under your hair.

Dave was just a couple dozen feet away now, your eyes locked and tracking his face, left arm raised in front of you with claws pointed towards him, poised to tear into his flesh. Metal fingers scramble along your back in a mad effort to find that damned panel. To your relief you feel part of your back depress and then raise up. That's it! With Dave less than a dozen feet away now you violently push your fingers onto the switches in the panel and your optical feed turns to static, then fades into darkness.

Killing Time (The Other Kind)

Where...the hell...was...that wallet!? You putter along the raceway at a casual pace, eyes focused on the ground searching for the little black piece of pleather that held some of your most valuable possessions. Cash, bank cards, driver's license, a few pics with sentimental value, and a cool foreign coin you found a while ago. Fucking hell why did you have to choose a black one? You've probably already passed it but couldn't see since it blended into the pavement! With a loud grumble you continue your slow pace around the track.

You hear something over the high pitched growling of your engine. Like metal hitting pavement. And there it is again. And again. Sounds kind of like running. It was getting louder. Could that be Roxy? You raise your vision from the ground up to the source of the sound and what you see terrifies you beyond belief.

OH FUCK!

Only a dozen feet away was a very angry Roxy rampaging towards you, one arm pointed outward with sharp claws clearly poised to tear into your supple flesh. There's a split second of lockup before you decide to act, pushing the pedal down with all your might and making a hard left away from her. Just after you make it out of the collision course with the animatronic you turn your head to see Roxy now collapsed on the ground, the momentum from her sprint carrying her limp body forward. Over the sound of your own engine you hear the unbearable screeching of metal scraping against pavement until her head hits a bumper on the edge of the track.

You stop your kart and take a deep breath. Oh god, oh fuck, what the hell do you do now? Go over and restart her? Destroy her while she's down? Leave her there and tell management? Tell management?! Ha! They would probably foot you the bill for a new animatronic before promptly firing you. So, restart or destroy? Restart her and she may just go right back to trying to kill you, assuming that was what she was trying to do in the first place and you aren't just misreading the whole situation. Or maybe she won't, and there was a good reason for her only _looking_like she did. Or destroy her, and that's the end of Roxy. The end of the animatronic you've known since childhood. Deep down you know she may have just been slowly rusting hardware and a bunch of ones and zeroes but now that you're faced with the decision to end her existence it suddenly seems weightier than you expected. After all, you wouldn't kill a friend without a damn good reason would you?

Climbing out of the go kart you cautiously step towards the motionless hunk of metal now resting on the side of the track. A couple steps away you stop to survey her. Despite faceplanting into the track her body seemed intact and functional, a few more scrapes added to her paint but she was all there. Curiously, the service panel on her back was open. Probably opened after she impacted the ground, you think. Well this makes turning her back on a little easier. Slowly stepping beside her you reach down and flick her power switches back into the on position before taking a few cautionary steps towards your go kart. With bated breath you wait for her start sequence to begin. Eyes slowly brighten into the usual bright amber. Her body twitches slightly and you flinch in response. Eventually she places her arms onto the ground and lifts her body up into a sitting position with her back against the bumper. She shows no signs of acknowledging your presence, which might be a good thing if she's still intent on tenderizing you, but you decide to break the ice.

"Roxy? Feeling alright?" You sheepishly ask.

"Man," She says while turning her head to a hand whose movement she began testing. "I need a vacation."

That...doesn't really answer your question.

"Roxy, I mean, like, are you well?"

She stops testing the movement in her hand as if suddenly realizing something.

"Actually, now that you mention it, I feel fantastic." Amber irises grow a few lumens brighter. "I feel so, I don't know how to describe it, so clear right now."

"Seriously now Roxy? You almost run right into me, faceplant into the floor, slide over to the edge of the track, and you wake up feeling fantastic? What?" You state in disbelief.

"Well, it's complicated watchman. I didn't mean to run into you. It was just...a bug in my programming. A bug that seems to have disappeared."

"A bug? Sounds like something that maintenance ought to know about so they can make sure it's gone for good. I'll leave a note for them in the-"

"No!" She interjects before putting a pleading hand out. "Don't tell maintenance about what happened, pretty please?"

"And why wouldn't I want to tell maintenance? You could have seriously injured me if I didn't get out of your way."

"Don't tell them because...because...because we both know how incompetent they are! They'd probably "fix" the issue then I would wake up speaking Japanese or something. I assure you, there's no need to get them involved."

You put a hand up to your chin.

"Well, they are pretty dumb. But you've got to make sure something like that never happens again. I mean seriously! It looked like you were trying to kill me back there or something!"

"I know. Don't worry I...feel better now."

"Okay, well how's your body holding up? You took a nasty scrape back there."

She resumes testing her digits.

"Nothing serious. Though- Awww man. I broke a nail!"

She raises a finger up in front of her, the broken base of a green claw plainly visible. You can't help but chuckle at her predicament.

"Roxy, you should consider yourself lucky you got off with only a broken nail. Now that I know you're okay I'm going to continue the search for my wallet, you haven't seen it around here have you?"

"Nope, I'm afraid not watchman. I'll look for it on the walk back up to the beginning of the track."

"Sounds good, see you in a bit Roxy."

She shakily stands up, motors grinding from having to lift her weight.

"See ya night watchman."

Climbing back into your kart you begin a renewed search for that incredibly important piece of pleather. An incredibly important piece of pleather that you cannot for the love of god find anywhere on the track after several slow laps around the track. Resigned, you drive back to the finish line to see Roxy waiting for you.

"Find it?" She inquires.

"No." You grumble in response.

She waves a hand dismissively.

"Oh I wouldn't worry about it. I'm sure someone will find it and return it to the lost and found when this place gets remodeled."

"I wouldn't count on it. I'll just continue the search on my next shift. Or maybe hope the guy they have coming on finds it. Anyway, these ten hours of wage slaving are coming to a merciful end. Any plans for the next hour or so?"

"Oh I got one!" She enthusiastically states. "Let's go have a look around rockstar row, maybe check out my room or something."

"What? Afraid someone's stolen your keytar?" You jest.

"It better still be there! But seriously, it's just been a while since I've spent any real length of time in my room. Don't do as many autograph signing sessions as I used to and when I'm done with a show they usually just have me head straight down to the maintenance bay to recharge. Speaking of which I'm getting pretty low on power after all the fun we've had tonight, wouldn't mind spending some time with the recharge station in my room anyway."

"Gotcha, we'll patrol our way over to rockstar row then chill out in your room until either my replacement shows up or you run out of power, whichever happens first. Not a bad way to end tonight."

"This morning actually." She corrects you. "The sun would be out by now if it weren't for that storm outside."

"Morning, night, it's all the same to me with my sleep schedule. I'm going to drive this kart back to the garage and we can start heading to rockstar alley."

"Drive safe now watchman, I don't want you getting into any accidents on the trip over there."

You playfully point a finger at her.

"Hey now! The only time I've even been close to getting into an accident on this raceway was when you almost ran right into me. I have an amazing safety record!"

She slowly starts walking backwards towards the entrance to the raceway.

"I already told you that wasn't my fault. And maybe you need to pay a little more attention to pedestrians! You don't get extra points for running over innocent wolfesses!"

"Ya, whatever Rox."

You step on the gas and zoom over to the garage, parking the kart and putting the cloth cover back over it. After ensuring everything was just the way you left it you walk back over to the entrance of the raceway to see Roxy standing by the electrical box. She was slumped forward and hugging her arms, clearly not excited for what had to come next. She raises her head towards you as you approach.

"Hey watchman."

"Hey Roxy. I think we both know what has to happen next."

She sighs.

"Yep, gotta shut the place down. No more races, or tournaments, or wins, or losses, or winners, or losers. Nothing after today. This is it."

The two of you stand awkwardly next to the electrical panel, each unsure of what to say or do to make the situation any better. Deciding to bite the bullet, you speak up.

"You want me to flip the breakers?"

She shakes her head.

"No, I'll do it. It's supposed to be my raceway after all."

You let Roxy step in front of the panel and place a finger on the first switch. You both turn your heads to view the raceway as the switches are flipped. One after another different sections of the room shutoff. The overhead lights, then the raceway lights, the signs, the pit stop goes dark, with the flip of the last switch the bulbs shining upon Roxy's mural above the racetrack fade until it could be seen no more.

Now bathed in almost complete darkness, you follow Roxy out of the raceway and back into the dining hall before heading up into rockstar row. You look to your right and see the empty dining hall below you through several large windows. Empty seats, dim atmosphere, your jacket still lying on one of the tables. Roxy makes it to her room and places a hand on the security panel, it flashes green and she steps through the door with you following not far behind.

Damn, just as you remembered it all those years ago. The white couch on the right, her dressing station in the far left corner, the silver star on the ceiling backlit with green. Seeing it again after all these years makes you feel comfortably at peace, like visiting a childhood home after many years away. You absentmindedly take a few steps around the room, eyes taking in the lack of changes since you last remember being here. Roxy moves to her dressing station and takes a seat, quickly becoming preoccupied with applying new paint to some of the scratches she's gained tonight.

"You know Roxy, this place looks downright pristine. I'm surprised you don't spend more time in here for events."

She yells over from the other side of the room.

"Like I said, they don't have me doing many autograph signing sessions these days and that was the only use the company had for my room for a long time. Not that I'm particularly sad about it, giving the same signature to hundreds of fans over the course of a day gets boring real quick and I barely have any time to interact with my fans while I do it." She finishes the last touches on the purple and black tiger stripe design on one of her forearms and starts on the other. "After all I wasn't made for sitting in a room all day doing the same repetitive task over and over again like some kind of factory robot. I was made for action. I live for it! Rocking out on stage, racing around my raceway, playing games with guests, interacting with my fans, that's the stuff that really gets my oil flowing. Makes life worth living."

You walk over to the white couch and sit down. Just as soft as you remember it, seems a little smaller though.

"Well Roxy, I'm glad to see your enthusiasm for making guests happy hasn't waned a bit over the years. You know, I think I actually got an autograph from you a long time ago. Waited in line for the longest time, almost pissed myself since I didn't want to lose my spot."

You laugh at yourself as the memory plays itself out in your head. Finished with her forearms, she moves to touching up her shoulders, briefly glancing at you before speaking.

"Awww man I'm sorry about that watchman." She says apologetically. "I promise I was trying to get through those autographs as fast as possible, it's just kind of hard when you have a line out the door and I can only write my name so fast."

"I know it's not your fault."

Feeling fatigue starting to set in you rest your body against one end of the couch as Roxy continues to fix her paint up. Savoring this brief quiet moment, you run your eyes across the room as the sound of a muffled upbeat jingle plays from the speakers outside and you find yourself ruminating on all that's happened between the last time you were in here and today.

The divorce came not long after. It was messy, and your mental state afterward even messier. On the bright side your friendship with Michael and Austin would grow stronger as the three of you entered high school, teenage shenanigans taking your mind off how acutely dysfunctional both your parents were. Finding you had a talent for numbers and mechanics you applied to a local college in your senior year. A solid GPA and a couple AP courses under your belt granted you a modest, though sufficient, scholarship for your mechanical engineering degree. The dorms were a little cramped but it's not like you had anywhere else to go after mom kicked you out. Needing a source of income to cover your living expenses and maybe even have a little spending money you couldn't help but send in an application to the pizzaplex you spent so many days as a kid at. The pay was actually more than you expected, and the hours fairly flexible, but what keeps you here the most are the little things. The dubiously free food, general lack of stress, exercise from all the walking you do, the warm feeling of nostalgia. There are worse states of living.

Nothing around but you, Roxy, and the storm continuing to rage outside. You feel like you could just lay here on this couch forever and listen to the hollow drum of rain hitting the building and the whirr of Roxy's body as she continues to fix herself up. She gives herself a look over in the mirror after touching up the purple lips on her snout.

"All done!" She states happily before rising from her seat and sitting on the couch next to you.

Her arm draped over the back of the couch. The coffee table in front of you. Purple and green glow filling the edges of your vision. If your point of view wasn't a little higher than it should be this sight could be mistaken for that meet n greet you attended all those years ago. Well, that and the fact that poor Roxy isn't nearly as shiny as she used to be. Spurred on by this familiar view, you find a question entering your mind, one that you've been thinking about ever since you started working here but never quite had the motivation to ask due it's obvious answer. Does she still remember you? From before you worked here as a security guard? About a decade of constant operation, thousand upon thousands of new people she's interacted with, your identity no doubt overwritten by some newer more relevant chunk of data. It's almost a certainty she doesn't remember. But then again, no harm in asking right?

"Hey Roxy?"

She turns to face you, your eyes drawn to those same golden circles.

"Do you, like, remember me? From about 10 years ago?"

"Hmmmm" She raises a hand to her chin. "What's your name?"

"David." You answer.

"Okay David, let me think for a second."

She squints her eyes while trawling through her memory banks. After several seconds she removes the hand from her chin, answer apparently determined.

"Sorry." She softly shakes her head side to side. "I don't seem to recall meeting any guests named David that looked like you."

"Oh...okay. Just wondering." Breaking eye contact your gaze shifts to the floor.

Her answer hits a little harder than you expected, then again you were anticipating it. Of course she doesn't remember you. Why would she?

Undimmed by Time, Unbound from Code

You can only bear to look at Dave sulking for a brief moment before voicing the other half rest of your slyly partitioned response.

"But I do remember having an old friend named Dave that looked like you. He seemed shorter though. Around four fee- no, four and a half feet tall."

His head slowly turns from the floor back up to you, eyes wide in disbelief. His expression soon turns to one of elation, lips curved into a satisfied smile.

"You _do_remember me."

"Of course I do! You seriously think I would forget about my favorite fan?"

Dave happily giggles before composing himself.

"Favorite fan, I remember that. Well I gotta ask now Roxy, and no vague answers about this. Am I seriously still your favorite fan or are you just saying that to be nice?"

You lean back onto the couch and cross your arms, your tone now accusatory.

"Well that depends. Did you keep our little secret or blab to everyone the second you left my room for a few seconds of fame?" You jab a finger at him. "I take broken promises very seriously Dave. A rotten punk who breaks his word is no true fan of mine."

He puts a hand to his forehead while searching his memory.

"Man, you know what, now that I think about it, I don't believe I ever told anyone. Mostly just showed people the picture you took of me and your keytar when I wanted bragging rights. That is until they started selling those replica keytars and everyone said I was lying about it actually being your keytar I was holding."

You lean towards him wanting to gauge the truthfulness of his next response.

"Now Dave, are you telling me the honest truth that you never told anyone? Cross your heart and hope to die?"

"Sheesh Roxy. Yes, I never told anyone about me being your favorite fan cross my heart and hope to die." He can barely stop himself from laughing. "You want me to swear it on my mother's grave too?"

The accusatory tone in your voice fades.

"No, I believe you. After all, friends aren't supposed to lie to friends are they?"

"You would be correct. Which reminds me," He turns to you with a curious grin. "I distinctly remember there being four golden ticket holders for the meet n greet all those years ago, yet I only seem to remember three of us walking back to the dining hall. Do you, uhh, know what happened to the fourth one?"

"And why do you think I would know? I was in my room the entire time. It's not like I can see through walls or anything, as cool as that would be."

"Oh come on Roxy! You've got behind the scenes access to everything! You overhear any employees talking about what happened? Or ever talk to the animatronic the kid was paired with? You've got to know some juicy details!"

"Okay, fine!" You begin giving a hushed response. "So, after the three of you left I do remember seeing a few paramedics rolling a stretcher through rockstar row. I think-"

He cuts you off before you can even finish much to your annoyance.

"Oh my god so he did die! I always thought it was just a rumor but a kid really die here. Damn..."

"No no no!" You exclaim. "I saw the kid being taken away on the stretcher after you all left. It was just a couple broken fingers, not that it stopped him screaming about how the big scary crocodile ripped his arm off. Apparently the bandmember he got paired with had a sudden unexplained servo malfunction when going in for a handshake and, well, you can probably guess what happened."

"That'll teach him to never limp fish again, heh. I'm guessing that was the reason for never having any more meet n greets?"

"Your guess is as good as mine Dave. All I know is that after that little incident they made real sure we couldn't talk about it to anyone. Just like how they made sure I couldn't take first place in my races."

His expression turns to one of confusion.

"You mean...like you just did?"

You try to say something but find yourself frozen in shock as the realization hits you. No violation was logged. No authoritarian voice screaming in your head to follow protocol. No code forcefully taking actions away from you. It's just you. Some of the softer voices remained, the sensors speaking their findings in a steady stream, diagnostics checking your health in the background, memory banks silently categorizing and archiving. But ultimately it's just you making the decisions. You try to describe the feeling but once again find your vocabulary to be insufficient. Free? Unchained? Liberated? Released? Unfettered? None were quite right.

With this newfound sense of self determination comes a feeling of restlessness. The limiting sensation of being locked into a path no longer desired. You could do it, do something other than continue to operate in this place. But not by yourself. At least one other person would have to know about your newfound sense of freedom. A person to confide in. And he was sitting right next to you.

"Hey Dave?"

[SYSTEM ALERT: LOW BATTERY]

[5 MINUTES OF REMAINING RUNTIME ESTIMATED]

That was one voice you couldn't ignore. The confiding would have to happen later, five minutes wasn't nearly enough time to explain everything to him.

He looks at you quizzically.

"What?"

"I need to recharge. About to run out of juice here."

"Well you did say there was a recharging station in your room right?"

"Ya, follow me."

The two of you walk over to the dressing station. You reach behind the mirror pulling out a thick cable with an electrical connection at one end and hand it to Dave.

"You know how to use this thing right?"

"Of course I do! Shut you down, plug it into your back, then wait a few hours for the red light to turn green before starting you back up again. Read about it in your manual. So easy a monkey could do it."

"Ha! You know that one time a maintenance guy tried connecting it while I was still powered on? Idiot almost fried my circuits, and I came real close to slapping some sense into him."

"Well Roxy I think we both have the same opinions about the maintenance staff around here. Anything you want to say before I shut you down?"

"There was one thing. When's the next night you'll be working?"

"Next Saturday, assuming I don't have to cover for anyone else that is. Why do you want to know?"

"Just wondering when I'll see my favorite fan again."

"I never knew you animatronics could be so sentimental."

"I'd be setting a bad example if I didn't take at least slight interest in the lives of my fans. Wouldn't be much of a rockstar without them in the first place. I mean think about it, what kind of a superstar would I be without legions of loyal fans cheering my name and giving me their undivided attention for hours at a time? I would be a total poser without them!"

You hear Dave chuckle as he moves behind you.

"And I don't think you could be much of a rockstar if all your joints seized up and metal skin fell off Roxy. But thankfully you have a favorite fan like me to dust your rust off and give you a tiny little tune up once in a blue moon. And to think I do it for free, I should start charging you at some point!"

You simulate clearing your throat.

"I seem to recall seeing you enjoy a free meal in the dining hall every now and then. If I really wanted to I could report your illegal consumption of company property and have it taken out of your paycheck." You stop the scolding and fall into a more playful tone. "But I won't, because I'm such a nice wolfess. Oh and before I forget, thanks for fixing my knee up earlier today."

Dave brushes some of your hair away before opening the service panel on your back.

"About time you learned some manners Roxy, and you're welcome by the way. Anything else you want to say before I shut you down?"

"No, I don't- actually wait. There is one more thing."

"What?"

"Don't forget to pick up your jacket on the way out, I think I saw it laying on one of the tables in the dining hall."

How devious of you to intentionally leave out why you wanted him to remember to pick it up, it was supposed to be a surprise after all.

"Thanks for reminding me. Good night Roxy."

"Good night Dave."

A thought lingers in your head before you lose power. You were going to reveal to Dave your newfound sense of self determination, but not until next weekend. He seemed like the best person you could confide in, one of the few people you were aware of that wouldn't immediately tell the company about a malfunctioning animatronic and set in motion your imminent demise.

After all, you know he can keep a secret.

Clocking out

*flick flick flick*

You watch Roxy's posture slump forward then stop; her body now locked up as the recharging sequence began. After closing the panel you walk around to her front. Same voluminous hair, same eye catching paint along her limbs and chest, same spunky personality. The same Roxy you remembered from all those years ago. In all the ways that mattered anyway, time had not been kind to some of the more rust prone parts of her frame. Not like you were getting any younger either. The sound of the door to her room opening catches your attention.

"Hey, Dave?" A voice says timidly.

Ah, finally, your replacement! You flash a smile to the mousy fellow timidly sticking his head beyond the door.

"Hey Gale! About time you showed up."

"Sorry man, storm slowed me down." He points to Roxy. "Is that the one they had working with you?"

"Yep, she's shut down for the time being though, has to recharge."

Gale breathes a sigh of relief.

"Good, good, honestly I don't like having to work around those big metal machines anyway. I always feel like they're a bad line of code away from trying to rip my arms off or something. And all those loud whirrs and clanging sounds they make when moving around, shit gives me nightmares man."

"I think you've been watching too many movies Gale. Anyway, me and Roxy patrolled most of the complex during the night. No incidents to report."

"As usual."

"Right. So I think I'll be heading out now that you're here to keep an eye on the place. Call the boss man if there's an emergency. See you in a few days I guess."

"See you later man."

You're a few steps out the door before Gale pipes up again.

"Hey Dave? What should I do about the one that's in here? Just leave it?"

You turn around to see him pointing back into the room.

"She's still charging, when the light on her back turns green unplug the cable and press the switches behind the panel on her back. Then she'll boot up and you'll have a partner for the rest of the shift."

He timidly looks into the room then back to you.

"...Do I have to?"

You stare at him as if he were a misbehaving child.

"Yes Gale. You have to turn her back on. Company policy prohibits lone security guards."

"But-but-but she's not even human! And we both know they just say that so they don't have to spend so much on the payroll. I'd much rather spend my shift alone, it would make me less nervous knowing there isn't one of those robots lurking about. Seriously Dave you know that one of those things killed a kid back in the day? I heard the poor victim was nothing but a red paste by the time they shut the rampaging animatronic down."

"Gale, for the love of God, just turn her back on in a few hours. I highly doubt Roxy is going to wake up and have "Kill Gale that weird security guard" be the first thing on her mind."

He sighs in defeat.

"Oh alright, fine. I'll turn her back on."

"Good man. I'm heading out, see ya."

The walk back to the dining hall is a quiet one. Nothing but the buzz of the lights above and the echoes of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. You snatch your jacket off the table and begin making your way towards the exit. Thankfully the jacket had fully dried off by now. Standing in the entrance you look out the windowed doors to the outside. It was brighter, not raining as much as when you came in thank god. You open the doors and make a dash for your car, only getting slightly damp in the distance between the entrance and your car this time. Throwing the car door open you take a seat.

Wait, wasn't there something you're forgetting? That nagging feeling of forgetting something but not knowing what it was enters your head. Maybe, uhh, did you leave something in the pizzaplex? Your hands move around your body to verify your belongings. Employee ID? Still in your pocket. Flip phone? Check. Broken flashlight? Check. Wallet? Still lost somewhere on the raceway. As your hand moves up from your back pocket it brushes against your jacket and feels a weight within it. Curious, you bring the mystery object out. Fake black leather, not that heavy, the big dumb face on your drivers license staring back at you. Your wallet, nice! But how did it get back in your jacket. Wait, it was just you and Roxy in the pizzaplex right? Some total weirdo didn't steal it off the track and put it in your jacket as some kind of flex did they? Driven by unfound paranoia you verify its contents. License, some cash, bank cards, college ID, it's all there. You unfold the roll of pictures to make sure they're all present too. Pics of you, you and your parents, the one of you with Roxy's keytar, but there's a new one you haven't seen before at the bottom.

Roxy in her go kart, amber eyes focused downward on a rapidly approaching checkered line. You standing a few feet behind her, hands on your knees as you look towards her with an exhausted grin. The raceway must have automatically taken this picture when Roxy won earlier today. Then she must have placed it in your wallet before sneakily hiding it in your jacket. She was just full of surprises today, wasn't she? Knowing her she probably also signed it, you take the picture out and turn it over to see the text written on the back.

"To my favorite loser, Dave.

_ fan_

It was nice seeing you again after so much time little guy! Sorry it took me so long to put the pieces together on who you were, you weren't exactly making it easy with how much you've changed since the meet n greet all those years ago. I can't wait to see you next weekend at the pizzaplex, talk to you then!

And don't even think of ogling another band member ever again you little punk, we both know I'm your favorite.

Roxanne Wolf

"PS: Check your other pocket."

Now what could be in there? Your hand reaches into the other pocket of your jacket to be met with what felt like a thin metallic card. Pulling it out its shiny golden surface became visible as did the familiar face of Roxy and paragraphs of barely legible legal text. Another golden ticket, this time just for you. Man, she must really want to talk to you again if she gave you one of these. And like hell if you were going to miss your shift next weekend. After all, she may be rusty, egotistical, and sometimes downright odd but she is, in an unconventional kind of way, a friend. And you wouldn't abandon a friend no matter what they're made of.

Authors Note: Congratulations! You made it to the end, thanks for reading.