Work Text:
It was a normal Tuesday night, Ennard had just gotten done scavenging through trash like a raccoon (why does it do that) and was heading back to Michael’s house. Unfortunately, however, Ennard, specifically Freddy, had an idea that night. It’s been, what, three days since the Scooping? Well, that had to warrant some form of celebration!
So, here they are, in a convenience store. Ennard was trying their absolute best to not look too much like a staggering drunk, but they were still awfully bad at walking. Michael, forced to gaze upon this sight as a backseat driver to his own body, started to berate the animatronic(s).
‘If you’re gonna misuse my body like this, at least learn how to walk properly in public! People are staring!’
‘We know, birthday boy! What? Do you think we want to walk like some kind of drunk peacock??’, says Ennard as they steer the body into a shelf of chips.
“D-Dang it!”
‘Well that’s what you get for scooping out someone’s insides and not even bothering to learn how to walk!’
‘Why are SO hung up on us not being able to walk, Afton?’
‘Well, have YOU ever been used as a meat suit before, Ballora? Cause I’m pretty sure that you’ve never had to experience the vast levels of discomfort and pain that comes with being used as a literal-‘
“Hey, are you going to give me that bag of chips or…?”
The argument abruptly stops as everyone seems to realize that while everyone was listening to Michael arguing with Ballora, Freddy had managed to snag a bag of chips and bring it to the clerk. The clerk who, mind you, seemed to be experiencing equal levels of “I’m too tired to care about this drunk homeless guy” and “what do I do, this is my second night on the job and there is a weird drunk homeless guy”.
Mike luckily notices the second emotion and starts to pay a bit more attention to the situation. He doesn’t want a repeat of the last time Ennard tried to simulate human interaction, as it ended in very concerned mothers threatening to call the police on the weird guy that insisted on giving their children candy if they “came over and gave me a big ‘ol hug”. To say that Michael wanted to die a second time was an understatement to say the least. So, Michael began to trying his darndest to ensure that Freddy didn’t punch the young employee or that Foxy didn’t start to brag about their “great performance art skills”.
‘Okay, so I get we don’t always see eye-to-eye, but, I need you to say exactly what I say, alright?’
‘Why should we answer to you? You’re not the one controlling this body anymore.’
‘Eliza- Circus Baby, SHUT. Just, hand the clerk the bag and give them five dollars from my wallet.’
‘Fiiiiine, but I don’t think we can use any of the money, it’s kinda drenched in your blood and gore.”
‘…’
At this, Michael was able to gain just enough control of the body to slap himself in the face, much to the increasing terror and bewilderment of the cashier who began to slowly grab for her phone. Now, the Funtimes wouldn’t really classify themselves as experts in human social interaction, but even they could tell that between Mike’s outburst and the cashier’s weariness, that things would not end well for them if they stayed. So, grabbing back control from the already severely weak hold Michael had, they left the store. However, Freddy still managed to grab that sweet bag of fatty goodness on their way out.
