Well, here we are, another week behind me and not a lot to show for it. Still fighting that infection (thanks for all your well-wishes! My readers are the best!). Looks like I’ll be spending my birthday at home watching The Nightmare Before Christmas instead of dressing up and seeing my friends. Like, the ONE time of year when I actively seek out parties…

So I haven’t exactly been having a bundle of laughs here at the Smomestead, but I’m feeling much better now. Shout-out to my good friend Keely, who surprised me with this beauty:

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…made by artist of oddities and entrepreneur of vulture culture, Jayne Strange. Isn’t that beautiful? Best birthday ever, infection and all. Keely, you are awesome!

So while I convalesce under the kindly watchful gaze of Galahad, I’ve managed to get a little work done. A very little. Have you ever tried to write a human/animal-shaped robot sex scene while you had a fever of 103? I mean, yeah, most people would assume that’s the ONLY time anyone would write that, but for me, that’s Tuesday. Except last Tuesday, when what should have been a normal, run-of-the-mill human/animal-shaped robot sex scene came out reading like it was guest directed by David Lynch. And I…may keep it. It’s weird, but let’s be honest here, it’s not the weirdest pairing I’ve ever written.

Anyway, while I wasn’t the most productive person ever, the latest chapter of my Five Nights at Freddy’s fanfiction IS up over at fanfiction.net and archiveofourown.org for those of you reading it. And for those of you who aren’t…well, it’s still there. Are you sure I can’t convince you to get in on some of this sweet, sweet fanfiction action?

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Over the next few hours, the power situation slowly stabilized and long defunct systems came on. Stagnant air began to circulate through the building’s true ductwork, while in the crawlway, rotary mechanisms squealed in protest as walls assumed their default positions. Pipes knocked and rusty water dripped from bathroom faucets. When she opened the freezer, she was met by a gust of foul yet distinctly cooler air. In the South Hall, a light came on in Miss Kitty’s Sarsaparilla Saloon and the animatronic mice within kicked their tiny heels and squeaked to the rhythm of their endless can-can. In Foxy’s Treasure Cave, stalactites glowed with eerie colored lights and the sounds of dripping water and ghostly whispers came from recessed speakers. And everywhere, little red lights on the sides of cameras stopped blinking and simultaneously switched to a steady red glow to show the master monitoring array in the basement had just come on.

Swampy was the first of the New Faces to move, turning his head as Ana walked through the dining room, following her with the burnt-out sockets of his eyes. And with Ana’s startled, “Oh hell no, you did not just do that!” still echoing in the air, a sepulchral groan emanated from the lobby, followed by a chicken-fried drawl: “WELL, HOWDY YA’LL AND WELCOME TO FREDDY’S!”

One by one, they all came to life, hinges shrieking and brittle plastic cracking as they resumed their old routines with all the single-minded, senseless purpose of a zombie horde. Soon, Peggy once again waved from her signpost and told barnyard jokes in her sweet, hayseed voice; Swampy stole swallows from his jug and heckled the show in a friendly, redneck way; in the gym, Tumble warned kids who weren’t there to beware of yetis who also weren’t there; Tux stood in his corner by the West Hall exit, regularly pretending to straighten his painted-on gloves and brushing dust from his shoulders as he waited for curious little guests to come to him with Google-able questions, ridiculously concerned with his appearance for someone whose head was just eyes and teeth mounted to a metal pole.

As the afternoon lengthened into evening, it began to rain again, although not with the same punishing force. The storm seemed to crouch over Edge of Nowhere, bored and restless, slapping at the pizzeria now and then, but mostly biding its time. Waiting, as Ana waited, for Mason to arrive.