Rickile

You walked into the pizzeria known as Freddy Fazbear’s with an unamused expression. Your usually bright (e/c) eyes were now dull and seemingly tired, just as your hair stuck up freely and about. “Another day in hell,” you muttered to yourself with a bittersweet sigh, sauntering toward the back office. “lord save my soul.” The time was 11: 50PM. It was 10 minutes before your shift started. Lounging around in the swivel chair with the tablet in hand, you spun around freely until a purple being came into sight. “What the hell?!” you yelled and jumped in your seat, almost dropping the tablet. The purp