"Funtime Freddy’s Fantastic (and Flaming) Pizza Fiasco"

It was a peaceful day at Circus Baby’s Entertainment and Rental… until Funtime Freddy barged into the kitchen wearing a massive white chef’s hat that looked more like a marshmallow mountain. Bon Bon, perched on his hand, sported a tiny matching hat and a painted-on curly mustache.

“Alright Bon Bon!” Freddy announced dramatically, waving a wooden spoon like a sword. “Today, we make ze most magnifique pizza in all of Fazbear history!”

Bon Bon sighed. “Freddy, last time you tried cooking, you deep-fried the microwave.”

“That was science, Bon Bon! SCIENCE!” Freddy declared proudly, twirling his mustache (which immediately fell off into the bowl of tomato sauce).

Freddy grabbed the flour bag. “Bon Bon, hold the bowl steady!”

Bon Bon braced himself. Freddy poured… and poured… and kept pouring. A white cloud exploded across the room. The kitchen was instantly transformed into a snowy wonderland.

“Freddy! I can’t see! I think I inhaled half the bakery!” Bon Bon coughed.

“Don’t worry, Bon Bon! The French call this… artistic atmosphere!” Freddy said, proudly posing as the flour settled over everything — including the pizza oven, which now looked like a ghost.

Freddy dumped an entire can of tomato sauce onto the dough with a triumphant. “Voilà!”

Bon Bon blinked. “Uh, Freddy… that’s not sauce. That’s… ketchup.”

Freddy froze mid-pour, then squinted. “Nonsense! Tomatoes are tomatoes!”

Bon Bon facepalmed. “Yeah, and by that logic, I’m a blueberry.”

(Freddy reached for the cheese — a mountain of shredded mozzarella.* “Now for the pièce de résistance!”

He began flinging handfuls of cheese with reckless enthusiasm. Unfortunately, most of it landed everywhere but the pizza. Some even stuck to the ceiling fan, which began whirling it across the room like dairy confetti.

Bon Bon ducked. “Incoming mozzarella missiles!”

One particularly gooey strand slapped Freddy across the face like a cheesy lasso. “It’s fighting back, Bon Bon! QUICK — GET THE TONGS!”

Finally, Freddy shoved the pizza into the oven and turned the dial to 900 degrees. “We must cook it with passion, Bon Bon!”

Bon Bon blinked. “That’s not passion, Freddy. That’s arson.”

Too late — the oven door started glowing like a small sun. Smoke filled the room. The smoke alarm went off, blaring like a disco gone wrong.

“THE PIZZA IS REBELLING!” Freddy shouted, grabbing a fire extinguisher and spraying wildly.

Bon Bon got hit square in the face with foam. “I’m not the fire, Freddy!”