INBOXtext / audio / video / actionThank you for calling Freddy Fazbear's Family Fun Center! We are regrettably unable to answer your call at this very moment, due to unforseen circumstances such as satisfying customer expectations, animatronic maintenance, or taming unruly ghosts in the rafters. Please leave a detailed message about your compliment or complaint, as well as your name and contact information, and we will contact you at our earliest convenience, if we deem your message deserving of a response in the first place. Thank you for calling, and have a Faz-tastic day!art creditcode credit
Yeah, yeah, everything here might kill me if shit goes wrong, I'm used to it. [Gen doesn't mean to brush off Mike's rather catastrophic history with shit going wrong and killing people in restaurants - it's more of a sign that she trusts him infinitely more now that she knows he enjoys her presence here and would miss it if she left. Or, you know, died. So obviously he'll be more careful about risks to her life than he lets on.
At least, that's how Gen now sees her position here. She's fine with continuing to drink her coffee and even finds herself surprisingly proud when she hears that Mike's been at this for five years. Shows how valuable his odd skillset can be when it's not being wielded by a total nutjob.]
Hey, you may be a zombie cyborg, but it sounds like you're also the only person in this franchise's history that knows how to run a fuckin' restaurant. Nice. [Yes, those are her congratulations. She'll try to do something for him on the actual day, but god only knows what form that gesture might take. She certainly doesn't yet.]
Anything I can do to help? Once I'm, y'know, conscious and all.
Please stop making this sound a hundred times cooler than it actually is. [ "zombie cyborg?" that'd be rad as fuck. but no, he's a ratchedy rusted rotting corpse. at least a zombie cyborg would be able to walk up stairs or jump over things. or have gatling guns in his arms. that'd be sweet.
... anyway. ]
Once you're conscious, you can taste-test. [ the hardest part about food experimentation and trying new menu options is being unable to tell whether or not it actually works. suffice it to say, he wastes a lot of money on ingredient sampling. and printing costs. Mike gestures towards his donut attempts on the counter - chocolate, strawberry jelly-filled, cinnamon sugar. they're all fully cooked and he followed the recipes exactly, so taste-wise they're probably fine. but the shapes ... they don't look the most appetizing. Mike tries, but. janky animatronic hands. ] Again, no legal responsibilities if you choke and die.
[She laughs quietly, the sound of it almost indulgent, and shakes her head.]
My bad, I didn't mean to make you sound cool. Super false advertising.
[The coffee tastes fine so far, as does the donut he hurled at her face, so she's totally up for the taste testing job. She moves in closer to take a look at what he's made so far, and he may notice that the hissing droplets of oil that hit her skin don't seem to bother her at all - in fact, they don't even leave little disc-shaped spots of red on her skin. Gen truly cannot be burned.]
Not gonna lie, dude, they look like dog shit. Why don't you make the batter and filling and shit and I can put them together.
[ well he walked right into that one, point for Firestarter. ]
It's hard, okay? Fuck's sake. [ Mike just gestures vaguely with his hands. he doesn't take the comment personally - maybe he would've a few decades ago, when this was new and he was extremely bothered by everything he could no longer do, even simple tasks and his regular hobbies. but he's had a long time to accept that this is just how he is, and not being able to make pretty donuts is hardly something to get pissy about. ]
Got any ideas for different flavours? [ might as well get input from someone who can actually eat things. Mike hobbles over towards the opposite counter, where his messy stash of donut ingredients are scattered about, so he can get started on the next batter batch. ] Nothing weird, but like. Good-weird, maybe. I dunno.
[She raises her hands with her palms up in a gesture of truce.]
So if it'll be easier for me, then get me to do it. I won't demand a raise or anything. I... should probably put on clothes first, though.
[Definitely some shoes, at the very least. She's gonna get Mike shut down by health violations if she starts cooking now. She tucks the rest of her donut into her mouth and washes it down with a mouthful of coffee, then considers the other flavours in front of her.]
Churros? Boston cream? I'll think about it while I'm getting dressed. [As she walks away, she can be heard muttering quietly to herself:] Pizza and soda and now fuckin' donuts, and I'm already getting so fat... pretty soon he'll have to blast a hole in the wall and roll me outta here if he changes his mind...
[In truth, she was so skinny when they first met that she's just added a layer of softness to her frame, but - teen girls gonna teen girl.]
[ Mike makes a half-hearted attempt to glare at her, as though barking orders at her is something he does on a regular basis - maybe sometimes, but for the most part Gen can fuck around as she pleases, as long as the dishes are washed and put away before opening hours, it's more or less free reign. he knows all too well what strictly governed households are like, knows all too well the urge to rebel and cause shit just to cause shit. at most he gets snippy at her when she gets snippy at him, but there's a conscious effort involved in not bossing her around. whether that's because it genuinely means something or if he'd just rather not piss her off and have to build a fire extinguisher into Helpy, hard to really say for sure.
"health violations," pah. if any health inspector actually did a visit on the restaurant, they'd have far more concerns about the corpse cooking in the kitchen than they would the teenaged hired help wearing ugly sleepshirts. weird how one's never showed up even once, huh? if he's going to inherit anything from his father, at least shady business tactics come in handy when you're trying to avoid being seen. ]
Terrible suggestions. Truly awful. [ at least, Mike vaguely recalls not liking Boston cream, so he's just gonna assume they're still shit. he watches Gen saunter off, shakes his head. girls. he sighs, starts up the next round of batter - most of the kitchen is automated, so mixing and incorporating is easy when machines are doing most of the work. he does call out after her as she leaves, ] Do be careful, if you Violent Beauregarde yourself out of here, I'm absolutely charging you for damages to the doorframe and the structural integrity of the building.
[ he teases. that's what you're supposed to do, right? right. ]
[She stops to wink at him through the opening with the order counter, then continues on to her backstage hidey-hole. When she re-emerges, she's got her spinny hat and Cherries Flambé nametag on because why not? They're technically working, right? Looks like some of his unusually whimsical energy might have rubbed off.
Her "work clothes" are just different combinations of her everyday clothes because she has so little to her name - she most often wears a simple dress, sometimes with leggings underneath, because her jeans feel a shade too casual if she has to leave the kitchen for something. In this dress, combined with her apron and heavy-duty workboots, she looks like a proper employee. And maybe she's just a dish washer, but choosing this life for herself and earning her keep does give her a sense of pride.
Raking her hair back into a ponytail with her fingers, she steps back into the kitchen.] Alright, just try to shoot this idea down - funnel cakes. You can't, right? Funnel cakes are so easy, made of all the same shit, and they're instant fuckin' happy. You can thank me for saving your donut idea later.
[ he might be getting a little too accustomed to being called "Pennywise," maybe a little bit. there's a chance he might be snickering quietly to himself, a chance that Gen might catch him muttering under his breath in a gruff and raspy tone, "they all float down here." maybe. he might be thinking about getting a tiny yellow rainjacket for Helpy. could be fun for Halloween or something.
the automated donut-batter-makers are doing their automated donut batter making, and Mike leans against the counter until Gen returns. dress code isn't exactly something he's a major stickler for, as long as it all jives with the pizzeria's aesthetic. and Mike's not exactly a fashionista himself. but hey, she wears the hat, she gave herself a goofy nametag. everything works out. ]
... [ Mike was going to scoff, but. hmm. he taps a finger to his chin, considering. funnel cake. theme park food. circus animatronics. huh. ]
That might actually work. [ Helpy starts doing an excited celebratory dance on the kitchen floor. ] Could save the donut idea for later.
Of course it will, I'm a genius. And I may not demand a raise for this but I'd better at least get a bonus.
[She's grinning, ponytail now in place, and reaching for one of the powdered jelly donuts to give it a try. All it took was knowing that Mike actually likes her company and suddenly Gen feels like she's bantering with her only real close friend back at Xavier's, Bobby - except that she made the profound mistake of falling head over heels for Bobby and while she may flirt with and even proposition Mike, that's not happening.
That's not happening again with anyone.]
Why not connect the donuts to coffeebot's big debut? Cake and soda for the kids, coffee and donuts for the parents. They're not that bad - [Except that the jelly donut turns out not to be very structurally sound, so she's soon got her face and hands and a fair amount of the floor covered in sweet strawberry goop with a hint of powdered sugar.] - agh fuck, damnit, I just went to the laundromat -
[Welp. That's her headed to the sink to clean up as best she can.] Helpy, wanna get a bot to take care of the floor? And you, no more fuckin' jelly donuts!
now there's a problem. Mike has been a jerk and a bully nearly all his life. he's never bothered to hide this fact. and the thing about jerks and bullies is, when an opportunity to be a jerk and a bully presents itself, it's just not physically in him to resist. Gen's agitated and huffy, made a mess of herself, and her back is turned. and there's a handful of sticky jelly-filled donuts within arm's reach. they're right there. Gen's over there.
Mike reaches for a donut, while Gen's ranting and not looking. he holds it out on his palm so that it's aiming directly for her. and promptly punches it with his other fist, spraying another little splurt of strawberry jelly across Gen's back.
he then immediately drops the squished donut on a very unassuming and unprepared Helpy and props his now very messy (definitely not with jelly) hands on his hips, scolding the little bear-bot who definitely was responsible for the whole thing. ] Helpy! That's not very nice of you at all.
[She hears the loud splat rather than feels it since none of the jelly hits her skin, but she still knows exactly what just happened. This is bully against bully, after all, even if Mike hasn't seen much of that side of her yet.
Without turning around, she speaks in a strained monotone that obviously wants to rise with both annoyance and amusement:]
You... really should've thought about how shitty it'll be to scrub jelly out of your gears before you did that.
[Because the moment she does turn around, the game is on. She snatches a bunch of the jelly donuts and just hurls one right at his face, knowing full well that he'll find it harder to shield himself or escape or do much of anything but take the assault. She does hesitate for a moment, just in case he decides to call the whole thing off, but she's braced and ready to keep throwing.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
INBOX
text / audio / video / action
Thank you for calling Freddy Fazbear's Family Fun Center! We are regrettably unable to answer your call at this very moment, due to unforseen circumstances such as satisfying customer expectations, animatronic maintenance, or taming unruly ghosts in the rafters. Please leave a detailed message about your compliment or complaint, as well as your name and contact information, and we will contact you at our earliest convenience, if we deem your message deserving of a response in the first place. Thank you for calling, and have a Faz-tastic day!
art credit code credit
no subject
At least, that's how Gen now sees her position here. She's fine with continuing to drink her coffee and even finds herself surprisingly proud when she hears that Mike's been at this for five years. Shows how valuable his odd skillset can be when it's not being wielded by a total nutjob.]
Hey, you may be a zombie cyborg, but it sounds like you're also the only person in this franchise's history that knows how to run a fuckin' restaurant. Nice. [Yes, those are her congratulations. She'll try to do something for him on the actual day, but god only knows what form that gesture might take. She certainly doesn't yet.]
Anything I can do to help? Once I'm, y'know, conscious and all.
no subject
... anyway. ]
Once you're conscious, you can taste-test. [ the hardest part about food experimentation and trying new menu options is being unable to tell whether or not it actually works. suffice it to say, he wastes a lot of money on ingredient sampling. and printing costs. Mike gestures towards his donut attempts on the counter - chocolate, strawberry jelly-filled, cinnamon sugar. they're all fully cooked and he followed the recipes exactly, so taste-wise they're probably fine. but the shapes ... they don't look the most appetizing. Mike tries, but. janky animatronic hands. ] Again, no legal responsibilities if you choke and die.
no subject
My bad, I didn't mean to make you sound cool. Super false advertising.
[The coffee tastes fine so far, as does the donut he hurled at her face, so she's totally up for the taste testing job. She moves in closer to take a look at what he's made so far, and he may notice that the hissing droplets of oil that hit her skin don't seem to bother her at all - in fact, they don't even leave little disc-shaped spots of red on her skin. Gen truly cannot be burned.]
Not gonna lie, dude, they look like dog shit. Why don't you make the batter and filling and shit and I can put them together.
no subject
It's hard, okay? Fuck's sake. [ Mike just gestures vaguely with his hands. he doesn't take the comment personally - maybe he would've a few decades ago, when this was new and he was extremely bothered by everything he could no longer do, even simple tasks and his regular hobbies. but he's had a long time to accept that this is just how he is, and not being able to make pretty donuts is hardly something to get pissy about. ]
Got any ideas for different flavours? [ might as well get input from someone who can actually eat things. Mike hobbles over towards the opposite counter, where his messy stash of donut ingredients are scattered about, so he can get started on the next batter batch. ] Nothing weird, but like. Good-weird, maybe. I dunno.
no subject
So if it'll be easier for me, then get me to do it. I won't demand a raise or anything. I... should probably put on clothes first, though.
[Definitely some shoes, at the very least. She's gonna get Mike shut down by health violations if she starts cooking now. She tucks the rest of her donut into her mouth and washes it down with a mouthful of coffee, then considers the other flavours in front of her.]
Churros? Boston cream? I'll think about it while I'm getting dressed. [As she walks away, she can be heard muttering quietly to herself:] Pizza and soda and now fuckin' donuts, and I'm already getting so fat... pretty soon he'll have to blast a hole in the wall and roll me outta here if he changes his mind...
[In truth, she was so skinny when they first met that she's just added a layer of softness to her frame, but - teen girls gonna teen girl.]
no subject
"health violations," pah. if any health inspector actually did a visit on the restaurant, they'd have far more concerns about the corpse cooking in the kitchen than they would the teenaged hired help wearing ugly sleepshirts. weird how one's never showed up even once, huh? if he's going to inherit anything from his father, at least shady business tactics come in handy when you're trying to avoid being seen. ]
Terrible suggestions. Truly awful. [ at least, Mike vaguely recalls not liking Boston cream, so he's just gonna assume they're still shit. he watches Gen saunter off, shakes his head. girls. he sighs, starts up the next round of batter - most of the kitchen is automated, so mixing and incorporating is easy when machines are doing most of the work. he does call out after her as she leaves, ] Do be careful, if you Violent Beauregarde yourself out of here, I'm absolutely charging you for damages to the doorframe and the structural integrity of the building.
[ he teases. that's what you're supposed to do, right? right. ]
no subject
[She stops to wink at him through the opening with the order counter, then continues on to her backstage hidey-hole. When she re-emerges, she's got her spinny hat and Cherries Flambé nametag on because why not? They're technically working, right? Looks like some of his unusually whimsical energy might have rubbed off.
Her "work clothes" are just different combinations of her everyday clothes because she has so little to her name - she most often wears a simple dress, sometimes with leggings underneath, because her jeans feel a shade too casual if she has to leave the kitchen for something. In this dress, combined with her apron and heavy-duty workboots, she looks like a proper employee. And maybe she's just a dish washer, but choosing this life for herself and earning her keep does give her a sense of pride.
Raking her hair back into a ponytail with her fingers, she steps back into the kitchen.] Alright, just try to shoot this idea down - funnel cakes. You can't, right? Funnel cakes are so easy, made of all the same shit, and they're instant fuckin' happy. You can thank me for saving your donut idea later.
no subject
the automated donut-batter-makers are doing their automated donut batter making, and Mike leans against the counter until Gen returns. dress code isn't exactly something he's a major stickler for, as long as it all jives with the pizzeria's aesthetic. and Mike's not exactly a fashionista himself. but hey, she wears the hat, she gave herself a goofy nametag. everything works out. ]
... [ Mike was going to scoff, but. hmm. he taps a finger to his chin, considering. funnel cake. theme park food. circus animatronics. huh. ]
That might actually work. [ Helpy starts doing an excited celebratory dance on the kitchen floor. ] Could save the donut idea for later.
no subject
[She's grinning, ponytail now in place, and reaching for one of the powdered jelly donuts to give it a try. All it took was knowing that Mike actually likes her company and suddenly Gen feels like she's bantering with her only real close friend back at Xavier's, Bobby - except that she made the profound mistake of falling head over heels for Bobby and while she may flirt with and even proposition Mike, that's not happening.
That's not happening again with anyone.]
Why not connect the donuts to coffeebot's big debut? Cake and soda for the kids, coffee and donuts for the parents. They're not that bad - [Except that the jelly donut turns out not to be very structurally sound, so she's soon got her face and hands and a fair amount of the floor covered in sweet strawberry goop with a hint of powdered sugar.] - agh fuck, damnit, I just went to the laundromat -
[Welp. That's her headed to the sink to clean up as best she can.] Helpy, wanna get a bot to take care of the floor? And you, no more fuckin' jelly donuts!
no subject
see.
now there's a problem. Mike has been a jerk and a bully nearly all his life. he's never bothered to hide this fact. and the thing about jerks and bullies is, when an opportunity to be a jerk and a bully presents itself, it's just not physically in him to resist. Gen's agitated and huffy, made a mess of herself, and her back is turned. and there's a handful of sticky jelly-filled donuts within arm's reach. they're right there. Gen's over there.
Mike reaches for a donut, while Gen's ranting and not looking. he holds it out on his palm so that it's aiming directly for her. and promptly punches it with his other fist, spraying another little splurt of strawberry jelly across Gen's back.
he then immediately drops the squished donut on a very unassuming and unprepared Helpy and props his now very messy (definitely not with jelly) hands on his hips, scolding the little bear-bot who definitely was responsible for the whole thing. ] Helpy! That's not very nice of you at all.
no subject
Without turning around, she speaks in a strained monotone that obviously wants to rise with both annoyance and amusement:]
You... really should've thought about how shitty it'll be to scrub jelly out of your gears before you did that.
[Because the moment she does turn around, the game is on. She snatches a bunch of the jelly donuts and just hurls one right at his face, knowing full well that he'll find it harder to shield himself or escape or do much of anything but take the assault. She does hesitate for a moment, just in case he decides to call the whole thing off, but she's braced and ready to keep throwing.]