A New Start

“'Eyy, I'd like to welcome everyone to Scott's Chuckle Hut. I'm glad t'see this place is full tonight!” said Scott as he stood upon a partially lit stage. His words of welcome were well received by the seemingly endless stretch of fans that sat before him. The man grinned at his fervent reception, before holding out his hand. As if on cue, a microphone drops from seemingly nowhere and into his hand. He grinned and twirled the mic between his fingers as he begans to pace up and down the stage, preparing for his show.

“So, uh... What do you call a cardboard box with wheels and an engine? A boxcar!”, he exclaimed, grinning. As if on cue, the crowd went wild. Only in Scott's dreams would he be a master comedian.

Buh-dum-tss...

“And so I head into this store, and I notice it sells nothing but flan! Flan! Like, as far as the eye can see! Just nothing but flan! So I ask the manager, like, what's the name of this store? And you know what he tells me?”

Wait for it...

“Flanville!”

Buh-dum-tss... Someone needs to stop this guy.

“So I head to this place called 'Chipper & Sons Lumber Co.' and I ask myself – 'What's the deal with all these beavers?' So, since I'm curious, I head to the owner, who's also a beaver, and ask 'em. And you know what he tells me?”

He pauses for dramatic effect.

“'I'm the only wood chuck, Chuck, who would know that a wood chuck would be the best at chuckin' wood!' And I'm like, 'Whaaaaaat?!'”

Buh-dum-BANG!

Scott was thrown out of his dream, and probably the club, with a start! He sat up in his bed so quickly that his nightcap nearly fell off. He rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness. He wondered just what he had heard. To him, it sounded almost like someone getting physical with some pots.

Bang! Clatter...

And there it was again! He prepared to get up from his bed and took off his nightcap, now determined to figure out the source of the noise. It sounded like it came from the kitchen...

But, he didn't get up.

Scott was, admittedly, rather afraid. He didn't know what could've caused that noise. It could have been anything as far as he knew! Maybe it was a raccoon, maybe a bear! ...Wait, no.

I live in the middle of Suburbia, thought Scott. There aren't any bears. A raccoon's also pretty unlikely...

As Scott mentally facepalmed at his own silliness, he realized that this only left one possibility.

“A burglar...”, he whispered... It all made sense now! Someone must've caught word of his vintage, and very valuable, Fazbear merchandise! And now, they were gonna take it! By force! However, they've made one fatal mistake! They've entered the house of Scott! And Scott takes no prisoners.

Now filled with newfound determination and bravery, he leaned over toward his nightstand and grabbed a small flashlight. He'd use his normal house lights to make his way around, but...

Can't let the burglar know that I'm awake, he reasoned to himself as he cautiously made his way out of his room and down the stairs. This was also his reason for refraining from using the flashlight until he was in the kitchen. He'd let that dirty burglar think he was all alone, free to do his dirty... burglar things... Then, WHAM! Face full'a light! Scott grinned to himself, thinking of his wonderful plan and the burglar's comical and blinded expression. However, as he looked down into the living room below, he froze in place.

You see, earlier that day, Scott had arranged the four animatrons against the living room wall. This meant that Scott could have a clear view of said animatrons as he'd go up the stairs every night and down the stairs every morning. Even without any light, he'd be able to see their silhouettes. So, imagine Scott's surprise when he saw only three...

Oh no... Ohhhhh no..., Scott said to himself as he fully believed the worst. He hurried his pace, now turning his flashlight on and running down the stairs. He shone the light on the living room wall and stared at the sight before him.

He felt like crying at that moment.

He saw only Toy Freddy, Toy Chica, and Toy Foxy in the same positions as before, slumped against the wall. (Or in the latter's case, strewn about on the floor.) Toy Bonnie, however, was missing.

“No, no, no, no!”, he exclaimed, putting his hands to the sides of his head. He was too late! Those robbers were fast! He had no time to stop them! And now, now... ol' TB was gone. Gone! Probably already pawned off somewhere, knowing how impossibly quick those thieves were! However, they've still made that fatal mistake...

They messed with Scott.

“Those thieves...,” he said as he looked down, scowling and balling his fists. “Those quick-working, low-down, dirty robbers were going to pay for everything they've done! If my name isn't Scott Canton--!... H-Huh?”

As Scott pointed his finger skyward to cement this claim, he... heard something. Something along the lines of quiet, rumbling static as well as some sort of garbled speech. Scott turned around so's to find the source of the sound and noticed an odd shape only a few feet before him. It was large, dark, with two small pinpricks for eyes. Scott's eyes slowly drifted upward as he spotted two long... things that seemed to be attached to the Thing's head. He squinted, continuing to try and study the form of the Thing, before realizing that – duh – he had a flashlight! He blinked, realizing just that before aiming his flashlight at the Thing and turning it on. He let out a quiet, and rather embarrassing, squeak as the silhouette before him was illuminated. Its blue paint and red bowtie, its blank expression and hung-open jaw...

“Oh...”

Flashback, 12:15 A.M.

Clanking and squeaking, Toy Bonnie struggled to stand up. It had been years since he was able to use his joints, and it proved to be difficult. Finally, with an especially drawn and stressed whirr, the robotic bunny finally managed to get on its own two feet. He blinked once, then blinked again, his vision going from black to a bright, hazy green. Nightvision. Included with all Fazbear Entertainment models. The motors in Toy Bonnie's neck whirred as the bot slowly looked left, then right. It didn't take him long to realize that this...

...This wasn't the pizzeria.

This fact was obvious. This building had walls like a pizzeria, and windows like one. Other than that, it was very, very different. The question became, where was he? And, how'd he get here? Toy Bonnie immediately began to dig through his internal archive of memories, trying his best to find something – anything – that would give even the slightest clue as to how he got here. They were played through in fast-forward like tapes, the Toy rabbit going through his own memories in the days leading up to his most recent memory. That being, the day of the 14th of November, 1987...

That day...

Toy Bonnie slowly walked forward as he processed what he saw. There was nothing notable in the first half of the recording. The second half, however...

It was in the midst of a show. People were screaming, adult and children alike. Some were scrambling to leave the restaurant, others were frozen with fear. It was all one big rush of inactivity and stress. Toy Freddy and Toy Chica were looking directly at something, their expressions blank. The Mangle was nowhere to be seen. Toy Bonnie turned, confused. He wondered what they were looking at. Why weren't they saying anything?

He soon found out.

He stood through a majority of the recording, spending all of his time looking for clues within the tape. He didn't favor this particular memory for obvious reasons, but that didn't stop him. It really should've. He hated that day. That terrible, awful, day. The day when he and the others were altered, their programming modified. They became hostile to everyone who had gotten near them, excluding the children. Their facial recognition system had gone haywire. Everyone seemed the same to them when they looked at their faces. Everyone was a predator, everyone was a threat, and someone...

Got bitten.

As he finished reviewing the event, Toy Bonnie couldn't help but twitch. He didn't get anything from that, aside from a terrible recollection! He sat through the single worst event of his “life” for nothing! He--

BANG!

Toy Bonnie stumbled backward, spooked by a sudden and loud noise. He quickly looked left, then right, quickly realizing that he was no longer in what he supposed was the main room of the “pizzeria”, but in the kitchen. He then looked down, noticing a pot on the floor in front of him.

So that's what caused that noise.

He must have been so caught up in his own memories, that he didn't notice that he had ventured into the kitchen. That stupid memory, those stupid predators, that stupid murderer, this stupid pot, and this overall bothersome not-pizzeria! Toy Bonnie took a step back, keeping his eyes on the pot. After holding out his arms so's to keep his balance, Toy Bonnie bent one of his knees. Then, swiftly, he kicked the offending object.

Bang! Clatter...

The pot flew into one of the lower cabinets, bounced off, then landed on the floor. As Toy Bonnie watched this, he actually... felt better. At least, for a short time. He approached the battered pot, knelt down, and picked it up. He turned it about, admiring its dents.

It also helped him figure out how to use his fingers again.

This didn't last for long, however, as he heard some footsteps. Then, the flick of a switch. Then, some shouting. A person's shouting! Toy Bonnie supposed that, if a person was here, maybe he or she could help find out what was going on! Toy Bonnie gently put the pot down and stood up once more, slowly and quietly exiting the kitchen. As he entered the main room, he saw the Person shining a light on the animatron's friends. Maybe the Person could also help find out why they were so... dormant...

As Toy Bonnie neared the Person, he began to hesitate. The Person seemed very distraught, and perhaps angry. He decided to simply wait until the Person calmed down...

However, that began to take too long for the animatron's liking. He needed answers, and he needed them now! He opened his mouth to grab the Person's attention, but not so much as a sound came out. He paused for a moment, confused. Was-- Was his voicebox broken? Determined, he tried to speak again, but – once again – no words came out.

Only an odd mess of garbled words and static.

Scott was both very relieved, yet very – very afraid. On one hand, he knows without a doubt that at least one of the animatronics works. On the other hand, it's standing right before him and is possibly about to attack. The robo-rabbit took a step toward Scott, holding out one of its hands. Scott took that as a definite sign of hostile intent and squeaked once again, taking a step back. Panicking, he threw his flashlight at the animatron. Toy Bonnie didn't react in the slightest as Scott's one source of light bounced harmlessly off its head. Scott took that as his cue to run, and so he did. Up the stairs and back into his bedroom he went, leaving the bot by itself.

Bonnie works! It actually works! Not only does it work, but it's... Well, it's trying to kill me now. ...That kind'a sucks, Scott thought as he paced around in his room. He couldn't believe it, he simply couldn't believe it. Realizing that he had been walking around in the darkness of his room for the past minute, he claps his hands together.

Maybe I could find a way to reprogram it..., he thought, continuing to pace after watching the bedroom lights turn on. But... But how? I don't know much coding, and I don't know anyone who does! Wait-- What if the others work too? He rubbed the back of his head... Oh boy...

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Scott was quickly snapped out of his thoughts by a heavy thumping sound, a sound that was getting louder and louder. Scott turned around, looking at the bedroom door. What was he doing, walking around and thinking about nonsense? He had a very real threat on his hands! He almost expected the bot to burst through the door at that very moment...

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Wait – Is that door even locked?

He quickly ran toward the door, placing his hand on the knob as if he had just won a race. As he put his hand to the lock, he noticed something. He hadn't heard any footsteps in a small while... He opened the door just a crack, allowing only one eye to see the area outside.

He almost wished he hadn't.

Toy Bonnie's silhouette could be seen only a few feet away, its piercing white eyes gazing down at Scott. Scott squeaked yet again, throwing the door shut and wasting no time in locking it. He turned around and ran to his house phone, which was on his nightstand. He quickly grabbed the phone, and punched in 911.

Scott waited as the dial-tone rang on the other side. He tried to use these few short moments to calm himself down, but to no avail. The fact that he could hear the animatron trying to make its way in from the other side of that thin, wooden door really didn't help... A monumental sense of relief washed over him as a rather bored voice was emitted from the other end.

“911, what's your emergency?”

“U-Uh, yeah, hey, listen...,” Scott shakily began, his words followed by some banging on the door. He was never good at speaking under pressure.

Bang-bang-bang.

“I-It's been a real bad night for me. Um, I'm kinda glad I managed to get to the phone when I did...” he said, trying his best to mentally drown out the noise.

Bang-bang-bang.

“H-H-Hey, do me a favor... C-Could'ja send someone over, please? P-Preferably soon? I-I'm trying to do my best to hold out here, but--”

With a crash, the door gave way. It swung open, letting a few wooden fragments drop to the floor. Toy Bonnie stood in the doorway, glaring at the terrified Scott with its jet-black eyes.

“Oh no...” was all Scott could say, frozen with fear as he dropped the phone.

“SKREEEEE-EEE-EEE-EEEE!”