Glamrock Freddy

“What happened,” I ask myself, staring at my reflection, my hands planted on the edge of the vanity. The lights at the top of the mirror shine off of my metal exterior, lightening some of the spots of the gold, blue, and red patterning over my eyes, with some of the light also catching on the edge of my designed in earring. “I am always at the top of my game for performances. How could this happen?”

“Hey, man, shut the fuck up,” I hear a young, almost high-pitched, voice spit at me, the sound echoing somewhere in the room. I whip around and examine the space, trying to find who or what it came from. “And don’t move so fast.” This time, the voice comes more clearly from inside me, the echoing clearly coming from the empty cavity in my chest and stomach.

I open my front hatch and stare down at the space in front of me, watching as a person gets out and straghtens themself up. My eyelids raise in shock, as they rise up, almost to eye level with myself. I tilt my head, my facial analysis softwear kicking into gear, my UI changing to purple, as it recreates and scans over their face.

After a few seconds of tense silence, a short list of statistics about the person appears at the side of my vision:

- Eye color: Brown

- Hair color: Brown

- Gender: Male

- Approx. age: 18-21

- Approx. height: 5’ 10”-11”

- Approx. weight: 145 lbs(underweight) - Member status: N/A

- Pass status: N/A

- Warning: Unrecognized individual

I straighten my head back up, cautious of the unknown status of the young man in front of me. Regardless of my apprehension, it is not in my code to be rude to anyone who could be a guest, so long as they do not seem to be otherwise dangerous; but that does not mean that I do not have any questions.

“How did you get in there?”

“You were asleep.” I cock my head at him, prompting him to explain himself. “When you were asleep, I opened your stomach hatch and climed in. It was the safest place for me.”

“Safe? Nothing about it is safe. That space is for piñatas and oversized party cakes, not-” I pause, when the age stat still resting in front of my vision lights up “-stowaway teenagers. What were you doing in there in the first place?”

“Hiding. Why else would I be in a giant anthro-robo-bear’s stomach?” I ignore his sarcasm and move on to trying to get more information about the unknown person.

“Who are you? My scan did not give me a guest profile. You are not in our system.”

“Thank God,” he snarks, crossing his arms. “I’m Gregory.” Gregory reaches out one of his hands, seemingly reaching for my own. I hesitantly reach my matching hand out to reach his. He grabs onto it, moving both of our hands up and down in synch for a moment, before pulling his hand back again.

“How stra...” I trail off, as my database runs through a list of strange human behaviors. “Right. Hand shaking, a human greeting custom.” Gregory looks at me strangely. “I... have said that out loud, correct?” He nods, a smirk spreading across his face. I brush off the encounter, moving back to the subject of his guest profile, or specifically, his lack thereof.

“Regardless, I do not know who you are and I should. I will contact the main office about this obvious mix-up.” Gregory flinches at my words, but does not say anything, instead pulling at the edge of his sleeve. I try to initiate the process to contact the main servers and the head nightguard, when a red notice pops up in my built-in UI:

Connection error.

“Strange. I cannot connect to the server.”

“Of course you can’t,” Gregory interjects, nearly throwing his hands in the air. I tilt my head at him again, trying to physically display my confusion to him. He sighs, before continuing. “She cut you off, blocked you from network access. Until I get caught, she won’t let you call for help.”

“Who? Is your mother looking for you? I do not see how she could do that- if she worked here, you would have a guest profile.” Gregory looks annoyed at my statement, before something catches his ear and mine. He turns towards the door in suspicion, while putting a straight finger to his lips. I close my mouth following his orders to keep the peace.

“Shh. I think she’s coming.” He crowches down and moves towards the large, almost wall-facing window. Gregory slides one of his hands behind the curtain, pulling it back enough for him to look through it. I look through the pane of glass with him, when I see a familiar figure pass by the window. He lets go of the curtain and leans backwards almost immediately, practially flinging himself onto his back.

“What is wrong, Gregory? That is Vanessa, the head security guard, she can help you.” Gregory stands back up straight, before responding to me.

“No. No no no no no. I don’t trust her.” He shakes his head, seemingly in an attempt to emphasize his point.

“Why not? She is here to keep patrons safe.” His brow furrows for a moment, before he wipes his expression.

“Look, man, I don’t know who she is, what she’s like to you, or whatever. What I do know is that she’s trying to get me and I don’t think it’s gonna be good when she does. Now, is there any other way for you to talk to me that isn’t that loud?” Panic creeps across Gregory’s face throughout his whole speech; his face starts reddening to a light pink, his eyes growing slowly wider, his jaw tensing up and making his face seem shorter and almost thinner.

“Here,” I start, trying to calm his anxiety, “take this Freddy Fazwatch.” I grab one of the watches out of one of my drawers and start extending it to Gregory. Before I have time to finish my explanation, he rolls his eyes at the name of the product. Regardless, he takes the watch from my grip, examining it for a moment, before putting it on his wrist. Almost immediately, a new overlay appears on my UI once again:

- Left handed

I shake away the interface and send Gregory a message via a private connection, established between myself and his Fazwatch. The chiming notification sound goes off through the watch’s speakers, startling the young man and causing him to jump.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I have sent you an encoded message.” His body relaxes almost immediately at my words. Gregory looks at the watch, causing my message to play- at a much lower volume than I am programmed to speak at.

“Hello, Gregory. I will help escort you to the front entrance. However, I am currently unable to leave this room, as the dressingroom doors lock from the outside and I am incapable of destroying Pizzaplex property, even to remove the door as an obstacle. You, on the other hand, should have no issue getting out. There is a button on the wall next to you that will open the door to the back room. I will activate that button, making it accessible to you, now.”

Gregory looks over to the, now glowing, green button and presses it, causing the back room door to swing open, its knob almost hitting against the wall.

“Well done, Gregory. There is an open air vent in the maintenance room. You will have to climb through the ventilation system to release me from the outside. I would do it, but I am not permitted inside of staff areas without permission and I weigh far too much to be in there.”

“What are you calling me, a lightweight,” Gregory asks, crossing his arms once again.

“Oh, no. Quite the opposite, actually- that I am a roughly multi-ton hunk of metal and machinery.” He shakes his head at me, before vaguely verbally agreeing with my statement and heading into the back room. I watch Gregory climb into the vent, before shutting the door behind him, not wanting to arouse any suspicion, should Vanessa come to check on me.

“And now, it is time to wait.” I stand still in the corner of my room, waiting for the young man to return. After five minutes of inactivity, I switch to power-saving mode, my ‘consciousness’ fading away and my vision greying out.

I have no idea how much time as passed, when the sound of footsteps startles me back into full power. Quickly scan my surroundings, looking for Gregory. However, I do not find any signs of life anywhere near me.

“Where is Gregory,” I ask the empty room, directing the question at myself. My eyes find themselves being guided to the clock on the wall, showing that fifteen minutes have passed since Gregory left. “He should have been back by now. This cannot be good. I should probably do something about this.”