𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ; 𝐟𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢

━ 1. | 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲

   With an irritable scream, you kick the beer can as hard as you could, until it flung at the side of the wall, crunching with a ting.

You fucking hated this place. It was degrading. Taking care of the animatronics, fixing games for kids, and tending bars at night for imps and demons- - it sucked !
You could be doing so much more than working here, for Mammon.

Like, you could go to Ozzie's, and work with Fizzarolli. The real fizz.

You were totally cut out for that place!

The Greed Ring was fun and all, (not) but the Lust Ring was where it's at! Stage dancing, having demons throwing money at you while you slipped up and down a pole, or even have Ozzie's favorite jester shoot flaming arrows at you while you hung upside down from silks!

That's where you wanted to be.

  "Hey, w-OO-A-h, kid. Ta-a—take it easy."

You turn to see the robotic Fizz looking down at you from the top of the stage. His hands were on his hips, eyes glowing into the room at your temper tantrum. With a small huff, you snivel your nose and throw the rope in your hand to the ground in a thrash.

"I'm pissed! Nobody takes me seriously, here." You begin to pace back and forth inside the tent, hands scratching into your scalp at the madness. "Why don't they just give me that position already! I'm cut out for the job. I've applied three times to that place!"

"You ever think, they just don't want to hire you?"

You glare over your shoulder at him, teeth baring for exaggeration. Fizz twitched in glitches, spinning his head. "Just s-say-saying."

You plop onto the bleachers, cheeks in hands, and you stare up at him in a sulk. "I don't know why." Your voice lingers into the room. "I have the experience."

The jester snorts, stretching his way over to you. You shift to the side as his ribbed arm stretches around your shoulders. A few sparks fly out of his neck. "Where's your experience? Hmm~?"

You smirk at him, rolling your eyes. "Right here, with you."

Fizz chuckles, breaking out into a fit of broken, glitchy laughter. You cringe inwardly at it.

Okay, so you had a huge thing for the real Fizzarolli.
Like, you were talking, o b s e s s e d.

If this thing wasn't so glitchy, you'd take him home with you. However, the other replicas were wayyy out of your price range, so you suffered a little through visiting this creep while you worked.

"That ain't enough, kid." His grip lets you go, and you shrug off the tension of his arm once being there. "You need to get yourself out th-ERE— there, more! Stop in, and tell them you've applied!"

As if you hadn't done that twice before. You saved yourself the embarrassment of doing it a third time. With a sigh, you wave him off. "Nope . . tried that. It didn't matter." With a somber look, you glance out of the tent doors and tighten your lips.
"Oh, right. Was that when they escorted you out?" RoboFizz snickered behind his hand. You turn to see his head tilting to the side, more sparks flying.

" . . Nooo, that was when I went in for drinks." Your brows furrow. "Are you keeping track?" You narrow an eye at him, and he innocently shrugs off the facts that, yes, he had been. —But only for your reminder of humiliation.

"No— yes, maybe. Listen!" His hands grab yours, and suddenly, you're yanked up to your feet by the animatronic. He spins you once, then wraps you into his arms. With a quick movement, you're raised slightly off of your feet by his grasp on your shoulders.
"You're not gonna get the job moping around he—RE. You gotta just face th-THE facts, doll." His smirk sends a shiver up your spine as your frame is pulled closer to his. "You suck. And you're stuck working here, TAKI—taking care of me." His grip tightens, face drawing closer to yours by the inch. "And this is the closest you're going to get, to talking to the real Fizzarolli." His smirk deepens, and it was ill-intentioned. You catch onto it quickly, and struggle in his grasp.

You pout, looking him in the eyes. The glow of them illuminated your face. Maybe he was right. After all, he should know, right?

It almost kind of . . hurt? hearing that come from the replica of your idol's mouth. It sucked. But, it wasn't true!

You kicked your feet, and try to shimmy out of his hands.
"But, this is the closest I've got to you, so~" your frown turns into a smirk, and without a second thought from the robot, his hands drop you to the floor. You land on your ass, staring up at him.
He snarls in disgust, looking away. "Maybe I was WRO—wrong. You are meant for the Lust Ring."

You smile softly up at him, and stand back to your feet. "Listen, I know that I'm cut out for that place. They just need to give me a chance." Dusting the back of your pants off, you roll your shoulder. "Mammon can kiss my ass, and so can everyone else that shit on me, here." You huff, arms crossing.

It was tiring, for you, and everyone else that had to listen to your complaining.
However, as much as he could be a prick, you actually liked talking to this glitching piece of metal. He was right in a way; he was the closest thing to being the real fizz. At least, for now, until you can actually conversate with Fizzarolli.

There was a few times, seconds worth of moments, really, that you could recall talking with the real Fizz. He'd been up on stage, telling jokes, doing acts, and you'd gotten him to pick on you once or twice. Maybe make him laugh, but it all ended too quickly.

You inwardly let out a little sigh again, and pick up the broom you'd dropped earlier in the evening. Before the temper tantrum you had, you were on your way to clean up the floors of the tent. Robo Fizz's show ended a bit ago, and clearly the imps in here were slobs. Popcorn and soda cups were left all over the floor.

"Well, go-O-OO-d luck with all of t-THA-that, kid." Fizz says, stretching his way back to the stage. You flip him off, and take your time cleaning. Might as well get the extra hours while you can.