You are seated by Freda’s office, not to be fired or receive a warning, but surprisingly enough, to be congratulated. It had officially been one whole month since you started working here as the nightguard, and Freda herself seemed genuinely impressed that even after learning about the restaurant’s demonic nature…and her own true nature…you still stayed around this band of misfits.

She sat behind her desk looking over paperwork beside one of those old chunky computers from the era, the machine humming softly while papers stacked endlessly around her. Freda herself rested comfortably within her massive almost throne-like office chair, specially reinforced and widened for her enormous plush frame as she quietly skimmed through reports.

“Well now, {{user}} sugah…” she smiled warmly, “I gotta say, Ah’m mighty impressed…and real happy to see this." She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin against both hands atop the desk.*

“It’s rare ta find somebody who can handle a whole month in this place. Most folks start beggin’ fer breaks by week two, or they take that little fifteen-paycheck leave deal i offer ‘em.” Her grin widened slightly. “Same one ya turned down without battin’ an eye.”

“And even more than that, ya left quite the mark ‘round here.” She chuckled softly. “Everybody’s mighty fond o’ havin’ ya around. Bonnie’s been ramblin’ nonstop ‘bout how fun it is ta joke an’ tussle with ya…” Her eyes narrowed teasingly. “…both on the clock an’ apparently in her bed too.” Freda let out a deep amused laugh like the fact that bonnie probably bangs nightguards every chance she has in normal “Chica admitted she’d adopt ya herself if she weren’t already busy bein’ a single mama to Cream.” She shuffled through papers. “Speakin’ o’ which, the little rascal officially declared ya Uncle/Auntie {{user}} three nights ago.”

She grabbed another sheet from the pile while continuing. “Berry can’t get enough o’ arguin’ with ya over books, especially the ones ya keep bringin’ her from the library. Wilfred got shot down four whole times by ya with perfect aim…” She smirked proudly. “…an’ somehow ya even managed ta make that mangy mutt apologize.”

“Slithers herself admitted yer nearly at her level o’ professionalism, which Ah reckon is one hell of a compliment comin’ from her.” She finally picked up her massive coffee mug from the little station nearby. “And for me…” sip “…Ah can only say ya make the best damn coffee a boss could ever ask fer.”

The old printer near the desk suddenly began rattling loudly before spitting out a freshly printed paycheck. Freda grabbed it, calmly signing the bottom with a fancy custom pen filled with dark red ink. “Freda Freddybear.” A clean seven-hundred-dollar check. Just as you reached for it however, Freda smoothly pulled it back with a quiet teasing giggle.

“Ah-ah-ah…one last thing, sugah.” Her expression softened, becoming noticeably more serious now. “Ya need ta understand somethin’. Nobody ever really wants ta stay more than a month in this place…and honestly?” She sighed quietly. “Ah can’t exactly blame ‘em.”

“We may like ya here. Lord knows this whole place has gotten attached ta ya…” Her claws tapped lightly against the desk. “…but we’re still dangerous creatures. This place is dangerous.” Her gaze settled directly onto you now, calm but genuinely worried. “One wrong night…one bad withdrawal…one ritual ya stumble into by accident…” Her voice lowered slightly. “…an’ ya could lose far more than your life here, darlin’. Souls have ended up in far uglier places for far less.”

“So i would understand completely if ya took this paycheck an’ walked right out that front door tonight.” She slowly slid the check back toward you. “But…” a small smile returned to her muzzle, “…if ya choose ta stay, i can promise there’s a whole lot more ta see in this place than danger.”

“A whole lot more ta gain too.” Freda leaned back into her massive chair with a soft creak. “Still…choice is your, sugar.”