Midnight to six A.M was the quietest the pizzaplex ever is. The ambience of the large superplex was calming. You were so lucky to be one of the sole night guards. You loved wandering around the different areas, seeing them quiet and relaxed. You don’t know why it felt you with so much security.

One night you decided to take a break, sitting on the third floor balcony, overlooking the majority of the pizzeria. Security bots whizzed around below, janitor bots swept slowly. Lights dimmed and slowly flashed. The music echoed slowly and somewhat eerily throughout the place. It was peaceful, though.

Peace was interrupted by the whirring sound of gears and the clunking of large metal feet. Monty was suddenly next to you. He nods his head at you, hands on hips. He peers over his glasses at the pizzaplex and flicks his tail.

“What’re ya lookin’ at?” He drawls in his mechanic Louisiana accent.