He puffed on the cigar held in his hands, leaning back in his chair. He
had a tendency to repeat his habits: puff, lean, and drag. He didn't
care about the ash that fell out from his cigar. He didn't care about
the black pile next to his chair. He didn't care that it stained the
In fact, he just didn't care about anything.
Mike watched him lean back forward and take another swig of alcohol. The way he slammed his bottle on the table made his stomach churn. He turned his cards around and laid them flat on the table, revealing his hand of Four of a Kind. An impressed whistle escaped Jeremy's mouth and everyone looked at him.
Mike rolled his eyes before laying out his own deck, which was, conveniently, of the same hand. Even more impressed whistles escaped from everyone's mouth and they watched Fazbear split the pot evenly. He slid Mike's share over to him and gave Purple his.
Because of the lack of appreciation of the night guards from their own fandom, all of them were featured into playing a night of poker. So far, Mike and Purple were neck-to-neck on most of the rounds and the others were just about catching up. A lot of them weren't quite into the game, though.
"Two hands," Fazbear murmured, grabbing a slice of pizza. "Who woulda' known."
Fritz gathered the cards and started to arrange them, preparing to shuffle for the next round. Mike ran a stressed hand through his hair, leaning on the table and turning to Fazbear.
"Just please tell me that the bots are off."
"Of course they're off." Purple rolled his eyes. "They'd be annoying us otherwise."
"They'll be on soon," Fazbear took a bite of his slice. "Probably in about 10-15 minutes. Whatever you prefer."
"W-What!?" Jeremy exclaimed, frantically looking down at his watch. It read: 11:50 P.M. Which, thinking back on it, was pretty reasonable because they started the game late. It wasn't easy bailing Purple out, either.
"Don't worry, guys!" PG happily exclaimed, giving them a thumbs up. "If you made it once, you'll make it again!"
"What is with you?" Purple asked and puffed the smoke in his direction. PG waved it away, giving him an aggravated look.
"Do you have to do that in here?" Fritz asked, stacking the cards. "It's not that cold outside."
"From where I grew up, it's traditional to light a cigar and play cards." He looked around the table. "I'm surprised none of you are doing it."
"We're in a CHILDREN'S pizzera," Mike motioned to the playground behind them. "The decent thing you can do is not make it smell like smoke."
His response was another puff of smoke in his face. Mike coughed, angrily waving it away from his face. PG leaned away from the both of them.
"Easy, easy!" Fazbear exclaimed, interrupting the both of them. "Fritz, start the damn round already."
After 4 more rounds...
"YEAH! I WON!"
All of them watched Jeremy spring out of his seat. In the middle of the table was his deck; consisting of a Full House, thus, ending the game. The night guard started to happily dance around the table, humming a victory song. Which, of course, didn't last very long because of Purple shoving him into the ball pit.
The whole game was mainly consisted of Mike and Purple battling each round. The tension between them is what got their attention off of Jeremy, whom was the least likely to win. Little did any of them know that he was secretly following a tactic. To think, the weakest of them all won the game.
Jeremy surfaced out from the sea of balls and panted. Once he realized that he was too far to climb the ledge, he started to panic. All of their eyes widened in surprise.
"N-No! Don't panic!" PG exclaimed, standing up and waving his hands. Mike ran over in the direction of the pit to help them, but ended up getting tripped by Purple and fell in as well. Fritz blinked before turning to him and giving him a glare.
"What the hell, man!?"
Purple gave him a grin, placing his hands over his lips into order to stifle the giggles coming out from his mouth. Mike surfaced out from the balls and made his way over to Jeremy. When they heard something jump into the pit with them, all of them turned.
Fazbear grinned. "Heeeerreee comes Freddy!"
Jeremy, realizing an animatronic was in there with them, started to panic even more and tried to make his way out, screaming: "TURN HIM OFF TURN HIM OFF TURN HIM OFF TURN HIM OFF!!"
Purple fell out from his chair because of how much he was laughing. Fritz watched in surprise, leaning over to Fazbear.
"Freddy's not going to....do anything, is he?"
"No," Fazbear smiled. "He's still in Daytime Mode. But it's pretty fun to watch, huh?"
"GUYS, GUYS, IT'S OKAY!" PG exclaimed, making sure they heard him. "FREDDY'S JUST TRYING TO ENJOY THE BALL PIT WITH YOU!!"
But, alas, it didn't calm Jeremy down. Once Freddy reached him and happily tapped on his shoulder, the poor guy fainted. And down he went; buried by colorful, plastic balls that served as his grave. That is until Mike found him and got him out.
All of the guards circled around his unconscious body. Purple poked his nose, only to get his hand smacked by Mike. While Fritz was checking his pulse, Purple turned to the rest of them and asked, "So...if he's dead, we can have the money, right?"
"He's alive." Fritz interrupted, standing back up. "But unconscious. Huh. Guess he does have problems after all."
They were interrupted by the sound of Freddy's laugh. Turning around, they saw the animatronic twitching with the familiar white look in his eye. The other animatronics were behind him, too, twitching and emanating various noises. Beside them was Fazbear, who had apparently switched them all into Night Mode.
"So, now that the game is over...." He turned to them, grinning. "-It's time to start your shifts."