My alarm goes off. I turn it off, and I stretch my arms out.

"Hello world!"

Time for breakfast. In the fridge, I'm well stocked with sausage, pepperoni, and cheese pizza. It's such a hard choice. I decide to go with one of each. As I'm heating up the pieces in the microwave, I go and pick up the newspaper. The front page says 'Frank Faz still missing, Investigators baffled.' Such a shame. I hope they find that man soon.

After breakfast, I go and brush my teeth. I look at myself in the mirror. I sigh. My suit just doesn't work for me, this flimsy, inanimate piece of plastic held on by string tied around my head. Oh well, all the more reason to keep working on the new suit.

For the past few weeks, I've been scrounging around for bits of fur and wiring, salvaged from teddy bears. I'm almost finished with the head by now. Soon, I'll have a complete suit. This mask'll just have to do for now.

The doorbell rings. I know who it is. I'm greeted at the door by Bonnie and Chica. Foxy's hanging back a little bit from the others. Poor guy. He's always been a little shy, but he took a real turn for the worse when we had to fix his endoskeleton a few weeks ago. But, really, what else could we do? Who ever heard of a pirate having two hands? We needed to give him back his hook, but in order to do that, we had to saw off the hand that was still on his endoskeleton. The strange thing was what he kept on saying though. He kept on saying;

"I don't want to be Foxy! I don't want to be Foxy!"

What sense did that make? He's Foxy. I'm Freddy. Chica is Chica, and Bonnie is Bonnie.

I can't say that everything is just fine with the rest of us, though. We've all been quite out of shape. Chica and Bonnie in particular were really skinny for a while. Bonnie still seems a bit short for some reason. It's been getting better though once we were back on our diet. After eating a few pizzas, I'm back to my jolly old self. Of course though, all our faces still don't work right. Our endoskeleton mouths move, but not on our actual faces. I'm certain things will be just fine as soon as our suits are ready.

"Hiya, guys! How are you holding up, Foxy?"

Foxy's gripping the wrist beneath his hook.

"I…I…" He looks to Bonnie and Chica, who are staring at him. "Argh! I be right as rain, you old landlubber!"

"Good to hear, Foxy. You all ready to practice?"

Bonnie holds up his guitar.

"You bet, Freddy!"

The next hour we spend practicing, and we have a rocking time. Even Foxy gets into it. Next, we get to work on our suits. It's been kind of tricky to get the right color fur for Foxy and Bonnie, but we're making good progress. Faster than you can say 'pizza', we'll have the perfect suits, and we won't have to walk around like endoskeletons anymore. We're going to have some rocking performances real soon. I don't have as much fun sewing as I do singing and eating pizza, but it's nice enough. I pass the time humming a tune, a little number called the Toreador March.