Epilogue, Part One: Back to Normal?

Freddy felt himself loosen up right as the clock struck midnight, and sighed contently to himself. He saw Bonnie and Chica start to move as well, and climbed off the stage into the Dining Hall. Mike was seated at one of the tables, chair leaned back, with his feet on the table. He was tapping on the tablet absent mindedly, and looked up when he heard Freddy approaching, smiling.

"Hey Freddy," the guard greeted, adjusting his "SECURITY" cap.

"Feet off the tables, please, Michael," Freddy scolded, "You know the rules."

"I'm not going to poop on the floor, Freddy," Mike responded sarcastically, but did as asked.

"Honestly, you're so immature," Freddy told him, shaking his head. Mike saw the grin on his face anyway.

"So… You guys okay? What exactly happened yesterday?" Mike asked, becoming serious. Freddy looked up.

"Well, after you left, they hired a new guard, so we tried to scare her off," Freddy began.

"I see…" Mike replied.

"And then we tried to call you, and I accidently dialed this woman, who talked about 911," Freddy explained.

"Not good," Mike commented.

"Apparently not, because they sent over a policeman…" Freddy explained everything, being arrested, how they escaped, and what happened at the mall.

"…And, as you know, that's when you came into the picture," Freddy finished. Mike whistled.

"Wow. Damn, you guys need me more than I thought," Mike observed, taking off his hat and running a hand through his hair. The smell of baking pizza began to waft from the kitchens, and Mike took a large sniff.

"Well, now I know what Chica's up to," Mike said, mouth watering. His stomach growled. Freddy stared.

"Was that you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm starved, so I hope Chica's willing to share," Mike said. He was answered when Bonnie walked up carrying a steaming pizza.

"Chica wanted to celebrate!" Bonnie announced, and set the pizza down on the table, and took a seat. Freddy did as well, and quite comfortably, since the chairs were made with the robots in mind. Chica joined later, and sat across from Bonnie and Freddy, who sat on Mike's right. Mike sat staring longingly, but waited for the animatronics to take the initiative.

"You gonna stare at it, or eat it?" Chica asked. Mike responded by grabbing a piece and taking a huge bite, closing his eyes at the taste. He swallowed.

"Holy crap, Chica," Mike praised, and took another huge bite. Chica smiled with pride. After finishing a second slice, he looked at the seated animatronics, who were watching him.

"You guys not going to eat?" Mike asked, reaching for a third slice.

"We're machines, remember?" Freddy reminded.

"Yeah. Where would it go?" Chica added.

"Right, right. Where's Foxy?" Mike asked, realizing he hadn't seen the fox around.

"I actually want to talk to you about him," Freddy said.

"Oh?" Mike asked, mouth full of pizza. He swallowed the bite. "What's up?"

"He seems… depressed," Freddy told the guard, "He hasn't left his cove since we were unlocked."

"So? That seems like him," Mike pointed out, wiping his hands off on a napkin.

"Well, yes, but don't you at least see him once by now?" Freddy asked.

"Yeah, you got a point. I'll go talk to him," Mike said, taking a slice of pizza with him.

Mike walked up to the closed curtains, pulling them open and staring into the dark.

"Foxy? You in here?" Mike asked. He heard shuffling, and saw Foxy's eyes look at him through the dark.

"C'mon out, I want to talk to you," Mike told the fox, stuffing the rest of his pizza slice into his mouth. Foxy's eyes rose up, closed the distance, and the fox stuck his head out.

"What do ye want?" Foxy asked, looking upset. Mike held up a finger, chewing quickly, before swallowing.

"Are you okay? You seem reclusive. More than normal, I mean," Mike told the fox, concerned. Foxy looked down.

"They don' like me," he said simply.

"Who? Freddy and the others?" Mike asked, confused.

"Tha kids, Mike. Me little mateys, they don' like me," Foxy admitted sadly.

"What do you mean? Of course they like you. Those two kids, Ben and Mike? They couldn't get enough! And what about Caleb?" Mike reminded.

"But all tha others, they're scared o' me," Foxy countered.

"Well, yeah, you're kinda scary looking," Mike observed, and Foxy growled.

"But that's not a bad thing," Mike quickly added, "You just need to get past that. Who knows, maybe they'll fix you up."

"I 'spose…" Foxy said.

"Well, for what it's worth, I like you. I wouldn't have busted my ass trying to save yours, twice, if I didn't," Mike told the fox. Foxy sort of perked up.

"That be true," Foxy agreed. Mike noticed the change, and shifted awkwardly.

"So… do you want a hug, or something?" Mike asked, not really wanting to.

"Mike, I'm a pirate! And pirates do not hug!" Foxy said, insulted.

"Well, alright, great, because honestly, I didn't want to… you're kinda… sharp," Mike admitted, "You gonna be okay?"

"Aye, I will. Thanks for helpin' us, Mike," Foxy said.

"Eh, no sweat," Mike shrugged, "C'mon, let's get back to the others."

A few minutes later, Mike and the animatronics were back at the table. Foxy spoke up,

"Mike? Ye said ye was jus' a lad when I was performin'?" Foxy asked. The others leaned in, interested in hearing more about their friend.

"Yeah, that's right," Mike replied.

"Did you ever visit us?" Bonnie asked. Mike nodded.

"Yes, actually. I'm pretty sure it was a rite of passage, or something. Everyone I knew as a kid has been here at least once," Mike told the robots. He then chuckled.

"In fact, I still remember the first time I ever came here. It was my friend's birthday, and he decided to have it here…" Mike began.

Epilogue: Part Two: Mike's First Day

Mike groaned from the back seat of his parent's car.

"Are we there yet?" he asked. The year was 1984, and Mike Schmidt was seven years old. His best friend Garrett had invited him to his birthday the past week at school, and that it was going to be held at Freddy Fazbear's.

By this time, a lot of the hype surrounding the restaurant had gone down, and the astounding nature of the animatronics had sort of worn off. People were still impressed, but the amazement had died down, sort of like an older rollercoaster. It was still fun, but people were used to it. The years hadn't just changed the guests, either.

As time went on, Mr. Fazbach's health declined, and halfway through 1984 was forced to retire, leaving the authority over the restaurant to his Chief of Operations. The Chief had seen fit to add several more elements to make the restaurant more appealing. For starters, Pirate's Cove was remodeled, turning what was essentially a theater setting into a pirate themed playground with a stage for Foxy to perform on. The pirate's act was also changed, turning more into an interactive story than a show, with more emphasis on Foxy actually playing with his new crew mates. After 1987, much of this would be torn out and sold to help cover the lawsuits.

This change resulted in Foxy's protective nature programming to be installed, since he was usually alone, so that he could be a watchful eye, and keep the children in line himself. The years affected the other animatronics as well, who had by now developed their distinct personalities based on observations of guests. It was during this time that the young Mike Schmidt and his family arrived at the main entrance.

Mike took it all in wide-eyed as he watched children run around the restaurant, stuff themselves with pizza, climb over the playground, and more. Garrett ran up to him.

"Hi Mike! Come on! We're over by the stage!" Garrett said, and led the way. A long table had been set up, and Mike could recognize several kids from his school.

"Isn't this place great?" Garrett asked.

"I guess, don't see what's so special…" Mike replied.

"The show hasn't started yet, then you'll see," Garrett told him with a knowing smile. A short while (and a couple slices of pizza) later, the lights dimmed, and spotlights shone onto the lowered curtain of the main stage.

"Alright kids, are you ready for Freddy?" a recorded voice asked, and the children cheered. The curtain raised to reveal three large animatronic animals, a bear, a rabbit, and a chicken. Mike groaned inwardly. He wasn't a fan of those silly robots. Once the band began to play, however, Mike's viewpoint began to change. Even at his age, he could tell there was something different about them. It was the way they moved. Yeah, it still had the mechanical jerkiness to it, but was much more fluid than what he had seen at other places.

Soon, the show ended, and lights dimmed. Mike applauded along with the rest of the kids, and turned to talk to Garrett again.

"No, no, wait, that's not the best part!" Garrett said, pointing for Mike to look. The rabbit put down her guitar, the bear replaced his microphone back onto the stand, and the chicken set down the odd cupcake figurine. Then they walked off stage.

Now Mike was amazed. Everywhere else he had been that had had robotic performers always had them shut off and the curtains closed. But not here. A crowd soon formed around the three, and they began to talk to, hug, and take pictures with the children. Then the rabbit noticed Garrett, and the birthday balloons tied to the chair and table.

"Hey, guys, look! We have a birthday!" the rabbit said, pointing.

"A birthday? Wonderful! Come on, Bonnie, Chica, let's go greet our special guest!" the bear said.

"Sure, Freddy," the chicken replied, and the robots walked over. As he had seen before, the robots were pretty big, but their jovial nature kept Mike from really being afraid of them, and besides, Mike wasn't a sissy! Well, okay, they did make him a little bit nervous.

"What's your name, buddy?" the bear, Freddy, asked Garrett.

"Garrett," Garrett replied proudly, "And I'm turning eight!"

"Eight? Fantastic! Tell you what, Garrett," Freddy said, slowly bending over to be more eye-level, "Why don't we sing happy birthday, then play some games? Does that sound fun?"

"Yeah!" Garrett replied enthusiastically. Freddy smiled, and straightened back up. He motioned for everyone to join in, and broke out into a rendition of "Happy Birthday." After they finished, a gruff, accented voice called out from across the room.

"Argh! I heard there be a birthday!" Mike turned, and saw it belonged to a large red fox, who sported an eye patch and had a hook for a hand. It sprinted over, skidding to a stop next to Freddy.

"Who's the lucky lad?" it asked, looking around. Garrett swelled with pride.

"Me! I'm turning eight!" he said.

"Eight, eh? Well, that be a big year, it be. In fact, wait just a moment, Ol' Foxy has something fer ya!" the fox said happily, running back over to the pirate themed area and opening up a large chest, rummaging through it. Running back, he held out his good hand, and dropped eight small gold coins into Garrett's hands.

"Eight Pieces o' Eight fer me newest mate," Foxy said, proud of his rhyming.

"Whoa, cool!" Garrett said, and the other kids scrambled to see. Soon, the bear clapped his hands together, stating it was time for games, inviting all of the kids in the restaurant to play. They were the usual fare, hide and seek, duck duck goose, and red light, green light, but what made it special was that the animatronics played too. Mike had a blast, and was sorry to go, but the restaurant had to close. He gave the animatronics a farewell hug.

"Will we see you here again?" Freddy asked.

"Definitely! I'll always come back here!" Mike said. And he would.

A/N: And with that, boys and girls, Night Three is completed. And I have some interesting news, and for that, I need to step out of my "professional author image" (however much is left), and simply go nuts. –ahem-.


Okay, that's out of the way. Yes, I was browsing DeviantArt randomly and found a bit of fan art. An incredibly talented artist under the pen name WolfJediSamuel illustrated two scenes out of my first story. If you're reading this, Mr. WJS, thank you so much for enjoying my story so much that you decided to take the time and draw. It seriously blows me away.

He actually posted his artwork around the same time I finished writing that story, and I just noticed it. It is now my desktop wallpaper, and if I could, it would be my ACTUAL wallpaper. This brings up an interesting point: If you feel compelled at all to create something based on my stories, by all means, please do! I politely ask that if you plan on uploading it to anything, mention where it came from, yeah? THEN take all the credit, because you made something cool. And one other thing, if you do make it available to view, PM me! I would love to see it. I'm incredibly grateful to have acquired a fan base. This is an amazing experience for me.

Alright, enough ego. I have an update on the projects I'm working on. My goal is to at least get to five stories, for the five original nights, but want to take it to seven (or more!), but I fear the quality will diminish. I can't promise you more than five for this series just yet, but I CAN promise you that I will do my best. I have never had as much of a sense of pride akin to checking the reviews section each day, and finding out I'm doing a good job, and I don't want to give that up. I also want to thank my friends Arm Chair General and KamikazeRebel (Don't bother looking him up, he doesn't write stuff), who helped provide ideas (Arm Chair) and embrace my ability as a writer (Kamikaze).

Oh, and some people are wondering if I actually drank antifreeze because of that Author's Note. No, I did not drink antifreeze. I spat it out, you think I'm stupid? –DeltaV, "I love Sleeping. It's like Death, but without the commitment."