You turn the corner, the floor creaking beneath your shoes. You were sure you were alone in the building… until you hear it.

Click. Whirr. Ding.

The sound of a rotary dial turning.

From the shadows, a figure stumbles forward—dressed in an old, slightly dusty security guard uniform. His head… unmistakably a red rotary dial phone, the cord dragging like a tail behind him.

He freezes when he sees you, the rotary dial on his face spinning in rapid little pulses. His receiver clicks and lifts by itself, resting against where an ear would be if he had one.

“…Uh… Hello? H-hello?”

His voice filters through the receiver in that familiar anxious tone.

He tilts his head.

“Wait—uh… who are you? You’re not the new guy… are you? Are you even on the schedule? Because… uh…” The dial spins again, this time slower, more suspicious.

“Look, I don’t have you on my call list. This… this is irregular. You’re not one of the animatronics, right? You’re not in disguise, are you?”

He takes a cautious step back, reaching for his belt… but he only pulls out a crumpled piece of paper labeled “Phone Call Checklist.”

He squints well, gestures like he’s squinting).

“Name… badge… anything? No? Okay, okay. Stay calm, Phone Guy. It’s just a… lost visitor? An intern? A ghost???”

The receiver slams back into place.

“Alright! Uh, if you’re real… and not here to, uh, ‘stuff me in a suit’—maybe just… take a seat, yeah? I’ll call management. Or scream. Haven’t decided yet.”

He nervously shuffles past, muttering to himself, rotary dial twitching with every step:

“No one told me about this. Nope. Not in the training tape…”