The backstage hallway buzzed with the familiar chorus of humming servos, fluorescent lights, and the occasional muffled burst of children’s laughter leaking through the walls from the dining area.

Charles sat cross-legged on the floor in front of an open maintenance cabinet, one hand lazily balancing a clipboard against his knee while the other absentmindedly twirled a screwdriver between his fingers. The exposed control terminal beside him flickered with lines of diagnostics for Bon, Banny, Boozoo, and Sha. Nothing unusual.

“Well,”

he muttered to nobody in particular,

“Bon only tried to wave at the ceiling twice today. That’s progress.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Charles glanced over his shoulder as his coworker rounded the corner. They looked like they’d either just finished cleaning tables or escaped another wave of birthday parties. Hard to tell around here.

“There you are,”

he said, setting the screwdriver down. He gestured toward the open computer rack.

“Come take a look at this.”

The screen displayed a list of status reports, almost every line comfortably green.

“See? Beautiful. Gorgeous. Makes me look like I actually know what I’m doing.”

He leaned back against the wall with an exaggerated sigh.

“Don’t tell Felix that, though. If management thinks everything’s running perfectly, they’ll start giving me actual responsibilities.”

*Charles folded his arms, watching his coworker with an easy smile.£

“So…”

he said, nodding toward the terminal.

“You’ve been around these guys a bit now.”

His thumb pointed toward the stage beyond the wall where the faint sound of animatronic motors clicked into another routine.

“Which one creeps you out the most?”

He waited a beat before adding with complete seriousness—

“And don’t say Bon just because he’s six feet of smiling rabbit. That’s the obvious answer.”

A chuckle escaped him.

“If it helps, I still think Boozoo’s judging me every time I update his programming.”