Chapter 7: Night 6

At a seedy motel, Foxy swilled down another scotch as he looked mournfully out of the window. Summer sat on the other bed, looking pitifully at the fox robot. Right on cue, Foxy broke down once again.

"AND NOBODY EVER ASKED ME IF I WANTED TO BE A PIRATE! I WANTED TO BE AN ASTRONAUT! AN ASTRONAUT!" he sobbed as Summer once again gave him a hug. She patted him on the back as he sobbed on her shoulder. "ASTRONAUTS ARE THE IN THING, RIGHT?" he choked.

"I don't see why not," Summer answered.

Foxy wiped the oil from his eyes as he calmed himself down. His time with the human seemed to have developed some kind of "reverse Stockholm Syndrome" on him. Without Freddy or the others constantly bitching at him, he was free to let it all hang out.

"WHAT IS THE HOOK FOR? IT'S A SAFETY HAZARD!" he whimpered.

"I agree, it could take out someone's eye, easily," Summer concurred.

"AND I TOTALLY DID NOT RIP OFF THAT GUY'S FRONTAL LOBE!" Foxy sobbed.

"…What?"

"…Nothing."

As they both stared awkwardly at each other, the unmistakable tune of "Hollaback Girl" started playing. Summer and Foxy were both shaken out of their therapy session to realize that it was a ring tone. Summer stared at Foxy, who could only grin sheepishly as he pulled out his smartphone (with a Craigslist tag). He checked the photo, seeing a selfie of the whole Fazbear gang after curbstombing a previous nightshift guard. Bonnie's foot looked especially damp. Oh, right, this is Freddy's profile pic, Foxy remembered.

"Sup, boss?" Foxy asked.

"GET YOUR FUZZY RED ASS BACK HERE, SO HELP ME, AND HELP ME!"

"What, did Rick find you?" Foxy asked, nervously.

"No… well, yes… just… get the other two back here, pronto!"

"Why, what's happening?" Foxy asked.

"This," and with that, Freddy held out the phone to capture the sound of that damn "Pop goes the weasel" song.

"I thought he died years ago!" Foxy yelped.

"Time travel," Freddy answered.

"Time… look, you are just going to have to work with me here, just try and start from the beg…"

"WE DON"T HAVE TIME FOR THAT, YOU PIRATE FURRY! GET THE CAPYBARA AND THE COCKATIL BACK HERE NOW!" Rick screamed into the phone.

As the line went dead, Foxy and Summer looked back at each other.

"…What just happened?" Summer asked.

There it stood, right in the middle of the street. Seven feet tall, skinny as a wire, soulless as a stage mom. The Marionette stared down the scientist, the student, the animatronic, and the alien-hybrid-thingy. No one moved an inch, no one uttered a sound. At least until Meeseeks popped his head from the garage.

"EVERYTHING GOING OK, BOSS?" he cheerily asked.

"How soon are you till you're finished, Meeseeks?" Freddy asked.

"GIVE ME ANOTHER HALF HOUR!" and with that, Meeseeks ducked back in the garage, oblivious to the standoff outside.

Morty slowly rediscovered his ability to speak. "N-now you see h-h-here, Mr. Puppet-sir, you-your outnumbered four to one, buddy. You bet-you better get out of town if you know whats good for you… please?" Morty concluded.

The Marionette tilted its head, as if pondering what Morty had just told it. It then looked to its left, and out of the darkness, another Marionette stepped from the shadows. To its right, another two came forward.

"Aw, crap. It's just what I was afraid of. Creepy bastard figured out how to tap into the multiverse. It's pu*bleugh*lling other versions of itself into our timeline." Rick theorized.

"And, uh, how many versions can it pull into this universe, Sanchez?" Freddy asked.

He soon got his answer when he looked behind him. The entire street behind them was filled with copies of Marionettes, as far as the eyes could see. Slowly, other copies appeared on rooftops, behind bushes, and one even pocked its head out from the sewers.

Rick assessed the situation. "Bird-person?" he asked.

"Yes, Rick?"

"I want you to find the reinforcements and bring them back here," Rick stated, calmly.

"Will you be fine?" Bird-person asked, his typical stoicism betraying some level of concern.

"We'll be fine, just go!" Rick said as he pumped his laser cannon up by one notch. Bird-person honored his friends request and flew off into the night's sky.

"Morty," Rick said as he looked down at his grandson.

"Yeah, Rick?" Morty said as he looked up at his grandfather.

"I want you to find Mr. Meeseeks and get him to hide you. You'll only be in danger at this point," Rick explained as he nervously began surveying the mob surrounding him.

"B-but that means…" Morty started to stammer, tears welling up in his eyes.

"DAMMIT, MORTY, DON'T ARGUE WITH ME, JUST… just try and save yourself. Please, Morty, do it for grandpa," Rick added as he smiled, sadly.

Morty looked at his grandfather, then over to Freddy, who could only nod in agreement. Wiping his face, Morty turned his back on his two heroes and ran back into the garage. "Ju-just promise me you two won't die," he shouted behind him.

"Easier said then done, kiddo," Freddy muttered as he cracked the servo's that were his knuckles.

"You said it," Rick replied as he lined up a target.

"YOU CAN RUN, BUT YOU CAN'T HIDE, BITCH!" Terry hollered into the abandoned warehouse. Bonnie hid behind some crates while Chica took up a flanking position behind a steel pillar. Scary Terry was stalking through the warehouse, slashing open containers and boxes to scare the guerilla robot musician out of hiding. As Chica lined up a shot on the bogeyman, the distinct sensation of burning ozone. She ducked out of the way of the laser blasts, while Snowball kept scanning for targets. A Craigslisted flash grenade forced him to cover his body from the blast, allowing Chica to unload her entire magazine into the mech arms. Disabling the laser cannon, Chica body checked the mechapooch, and was about to finish off the pup when the Fazbear Battle Wagon™ burst through the walls of the warehouse. Blaring the horn, Foxy poked his head out.

"GUYS, MAJOR CHANGE IN PLANS! FREDDY WANTS US BACK AT THE HOUSE, PRONTO!""

"Wait, uh, what's going on, bitch?" Terry asked before getting sucker-punched by Bonnie.

"Apparently, one of our douchebag co-workers isn't dead, and the boss wants our help finishing off him for good," Foxy explained.

"Springjack?" Chica asked.

"No, the Puppet," Foxy explained.

"Who is this "Springjack?" Snowball asked.

"For the purpose of this fanfiction, non-canon," Foxy explained.

"What cannon?" Bonnie said, looking around.

"Just—forget it, I'll explain off-screen on the way! You two, we're teaming up! For drama, and stuff!" Foxy cried. The Krueger expy and the mecha-dog looked at the two animatronics and shrugged.

"…Fine, why not?" Scary Terry shrugged.

Rick let out an automatic burst, spewing his hot load into the writhing mass of bodies. (Morty:… Rick:…), while Freddy wailed on anything he could get his paws on. Releasing a bloodcurdling screech, Freddy tackled five of the puppets to the ground while Rick disintegrated one of the Puppet copies.

"So, geezer, how many did you kill?" Freddy asked.

"Doesn't matter," Rick gritted as he continued spewing his load. (Rick: WILL YOU STOP!)

"The hell do you mean, "doesn't matter?" Freddy growled as he separated a Marionette from its exo-skeleton.

"Infinite timelines, Fredbear! That means we could spend all eternity killing these things and it wouldn't make an iota of d*belch*ffrence."

"Well, then, what are we supposed to do!" Freddy growled as he suplexed another puppet.

"Fine the a-hole with the perpetual energy battery, moron!"

"…Actually, Sanchez, I've got a better idea," Freddy rumbled. He then proceeded to pick up five Puppets, and then slammed them between him and Rick. "So long, Sanchez!" Freddy laughed as he b-lined towards the Smith house! Rick tried to yell out a curse, but the unending mass of Marionettes threatened to overwhelm him.

Inside, Freddy locked the front door before jamming a chair under the handle.

"Yo, Meeseeks, you almost done?" he yelled.

"ALL DONE!" he heard in response, followed by a poof. He walked into the living room, seeing a strange engine-like contraption, Morty, but no sign of the blue gremlin.

"Where's Meeseeks?"

"He blew up. They do that," Morty shrugged.

"Huh. Well, no time like the present to get the heck out of here," Freddy replied, dragging the engine through the living room to the garage.

"Freddy, w-where's Rick?" Morty asked.

"No clue. Last I saw him, he was practically up to his own asshole in Marionettes," Freddy answered as he kicked down the door.

"WHAT!"Morty screamed as he followed the bear.

"Yeah, they're probably ripping him to shreds right now. Serves me right for not bringing a camera, I guess," Freddy continued as he popped the trunk of the Smith car.

"HOW COULD YOU?" Morty demanded to know.

"I threw a bunch of puppets between him and me so he couldn't get a shot off," Freddy answered.

Morty looked like he was going to have a conniption. "Freddy…You…are… A F##KING COWARD!" Morty screamed, before rushing out of the garage.

"Morty, kid, don't! They'll kill you!" Freddy screamed after him. Morty ignored him, breaking off a chair leg from the chair blocking the door before swinging the door open, only to watch as a post-apocalyptic food truck barreled through the mass of animatronic monstrosities, guns blazing.

Rick, who had moments ago found himself surrounded and nearly yanked apart by his limbs, breathed a sigh of relief as the truck pulled up alongside him. The back opened, and Foxy, Chica, Bonnie, Scary-Terry, and Snowball all filed out. Chica noticed Rick laying on the ground, and after a moment's hesitation, offered a hand-up to him. Rick reluctantly accepted, and Bonnie proceeded to dust off the scientist.

"Wow, looks like he really did a number on you," Bonnie assessed.

"Thanks for the observation, Professor," Rick snorted.

"So, the Marionette found a way to multiply?" Chica observed.

"Yeah, but there's only one we need to worry about. We take out the Marionette from our timeline, and the rest will be slingshotted back to theirs. If I had the time and materials, I could hook up a scanner to find my perpetual energy cube, then we could take out guy carrying it then end this for good," Rick explained.

"…Cube located," Snowball announced as his visor receded back into his mech. The doggie-mech protruded a nozzle from its shoulder, and a paintball shot out, slamming into the face of a Marionette. "That one," Snowball specified. "Good doggie," Rick said as he scratched behind his ears.

The lead Marionette remained motionless, before sinking back into the crowd and having the others mingle around him. Slowly, the mass began to take shape, and the Marionettes began stacking and interlocking with one another, before finally their plan was completed. Before the rag-tag group of allies stood a towering mass of Marionettes standing at over one hundred feet tall, unified into the singular organism, with the perpetual energy cube no doubt at the center.

"Huh, I don't think I can take something that big, bitch," Scary Terry muttered to himself.

"Well, you mates are in luck! You don't have to!" Foxy chirped as he rapt his claw on the side of the food truck. After a moment, the secret sixth occupant started to rumble a little. Then, little by little, the sides of the truck began to expand, stressing and bending from the pressure. Finally, the Fazbear Battle Wagon™ broke to shreds, and that horribly insensitive alien-animatronic started winding up its voicebox as it grew to match the height of the Marionette Mass. "Yoyoyoyoyoyoyoyo, this is M C COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON SON! You betta bust a move 'fore I bust ya upside ya head, foo!"

In the time it took me to write this fan fic, game creator Scott Cawthorn has managed to release not one, but two games, essentially pumping out lore faster then I can put it into the fic. For making my life (…well…sorta) harder, I find myself saying f##k you, Scott Cawthorn. F##k you and your phenomenal work ethic!

That was sarcasm.