Hello, my name is Mike Schmidt and I want to tell you about the horrible working conditions I had to endure a couple months ago when I worked for Five Nights At Freddy’s.
First, I’ll tell you a little bit about how I got here, and how I came to find myself suffering under working conditions that make those in overseas sweatshops seem desirable. You see, I decided to go into security right after high school. My liberal arts degree in college was useless and left me with student loan debt, so I stayed in security. The firm I worked for went under, so I started looking for something, anything that would pay the bills. That’s when I saw an ad for a nightwatch position at a local pizzeria called Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.
I don’t think I’ve ever been to that place before, but I know it’s been around since I was a kid. It’s pretty much a Chuck E. Cheese ripoff, complete with singing animatronics and everything. But the place was falling under hard times and was due to be closed at the end of this year. So I knew this was unofficially a temp job, but I needed to take what I could get. If I only I had known what I was getting into.
I didn’t know about the danger until it was too late.
This isn’t even Freddy himself.
My shift was from 12 AM to 6 AM. I was to sit in the office and watch the security cameras. That didn’t sound too bad, so I let the low pay go. It was a minimum wage job, and I would be making about $120 a week for 30 hours. I figured I would deal with this low paying job for now and worry about finding something else once I settled in. Little did I know that the low pay would be the least of my problems.
So my training consisted entirely of recorded phone messages from the previous night watchman. It was only then, once I was alone and confined to the security room, that I was told the truth about my job: The animatronics come to life! Apparently the company was concerned about their servos locking up or something (don’t look at me; I know nothing about robotics) and it was too expensive to repair them. But the animatronics come to life every night from 12 AM to 6 AM, and it was my job to watch over them.
The problem was that if they were to see me, they would confuse me for an animatronic endoskeleton that was outside its costume, and they would force me inside a costume, which would kill me. Let me repeat that: If the robots that came to life were to see me, they would confuse me for an animtronic endoskeleton that was outside its costume, and they would force me inside a costume, and all that would remain of my body would be my eyes and teeth.
What. The. Hell!?
Oh, but it gets worse. You see, there were two entrances to the security room, and the doors that led into the room were impenetrable. The animatronics could not get inside no matter how much they tried. But the problem (besides the lack of bathroom access or a fire exit) is that the company was apparently on such terrible terms with the power company that there wasn’t enough power to keep the doors closed all the time. Everything was consuming power. Turning on the lights right outside the doors (where the cameras couldn’t see) drained power. Looking at the security cameras drained power. Closing the doors drained power faster than an SUV powered by a AA battery. I’m not making this up. Part of the advice the Phone Guy (never did get his name, and I never will seeing as how he died on the fourth night) gave me was to shut the doors only if the animatronics were right outside!
I’m not trying to be offensive or self-absorbed and I hope I don’t come off as so by saying this, but children during the Industrial Revolution working for pennies a day had better working conditions than me.
So every night I sat there, managing the power supply while I kept an eye on the cameras, watching the animatronics. As the week went on, the animatronics became more active……..and aggressive. There was Bonnie, a bunny animatronic that would sometimes appear right outside my door. Chica, a chick with a bib that said “Let’s Eat!”, would often pass by the kitchen (where the camera was out), rattling dishes on her way over to me. Foxy, the pirate fox, was kept behind a curtain at Pirate’s Cove rather than onstage with the others (I guess he was supposed to be the villain? I don’t know the official story behind these characters, other than that I presume they want you to eat pizza). This guy was aggressive, and I would often see him running for my room, which is one of the most unsettling sights I’ve ever seen. And finally, there was Freddy Fazbear himself, who didn’t become active until late in the week, but when he did, it was terrifying. He either hid from the camera (in which case all I could see were his glowing eyes from the shadows) or he was right in front of the camera staring at me.
That’s something else I wanted to bring up: this place was haunted. Whatever the problem was, it went way beyond malfunctioning animatronics. You see, I soon came to realize that there was a fifth animatronic (which I named Golden Freddy) that could actually teleport inside the security room with me! He just sat lifelessly in the chair in front of me, and when I looked up from the cameras, he was gone. On the cameras, I would see posters and messages change on their own, and the animatronics would often watch me through the cameras as I watched them. I had hallucinations of the phrase “IT’S ME”, and I can assure you that I was—an am—quite drug free. Bonnie and Chica’s heads would move back and forth like something out of a Japanese horror film. I heard terrifying laughter and Foxy singing randomly. And it was all for me. They were coming after me.
Somehow, I survived Five Nights At Freddy’s. To say they are the worst employer I’ve ever had is an understatement; I was constantly petrified and on edge, waiting for an animatronic to jump in front of me screaming, or for the power to go out, putting me at the mercy of Freddy. It was a truly terrifying experience, and one I survived only because of my quick reflexes and skill at resource management. The lack of power made it a truly challenging experience due to the fact that it’s a non-renewable resource. Even the act of turning on the lights right outside the door meant less time I could spend checking the cameras, or checking the cameras meant less time I could afford to have the doors closed. Despite the fact that someone watching me sit there would believe it to be an incredibly repetitive experience, sitting there knowing that the creatures might be right outside the room but I didn’t have enough power to flip on the light switch was the single most terrifying experience I’ve ever had, much more terrifying than that presented in video games such as Slender (naturally, as this is real life and not a PC horror game review or something).
These are working conditions that no human being should work under, and I urge you all to avoid going to Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza or supporting them in any matter. It is a terrifying experience that you will never forget, testing your ability to remain cool under pressure, learn the patterns of your enemies as they adapt to your tactics, and stretch every bit of your finite resources to their maximum potential. I don’t know what happened to this popular pizzeria; it’s got a dark history surrounding missing children and “The Bite of ’87” that I don’t want to know anything about. All I can say is that I’m through working security. Maybe I’ll go back to school or something, I don’t know. But you’ll never see me work one night at that hellhole, let alone Five Nights At Freddy’s.
I am a writer, a banker, a gamer, and an investor. Not always in that order, but it's all good. I'm hoping to share my thoughts about whatever I'm having thoughts about, and earn a stream of passive income on the side.