[Camera 1: Main Entrance]
The final guests depart, and after one last check the employees follow, locking the doors behind them. SCP-5583's head emerges from the curtain across its stage. It looks left and right several times before drawing the curtain open.
SCP-5583 steps down from the stage, and stretches. It begins talking to itself. SCP-5583 makes its way to the prize counter. It lifts the flap, walks past the prize shelves and begins rummaging through a cardboard box labelled "Lost and Found."
SCP-5583 pulls out a red cowboy hat with a plastic yellow star pinned to the crown. It removes its tiara, tossing it dismissively onto the prize counter, then places the cowboy hat on its head and inspects itself in a nearby mirror. It nods approvingly, still talking to itself.
SCP-5583 turns to examine the prizes. It takes a toy gun holster off the shelf, and attaches it with some difficulty to its waist. It takes a wide stance facing the mirror, its free hand hovering over the gun.
SCP-5583 appears to threaten its own reflection for several seconds. It then pulls the gun from its holster and fires two suction darts. They strike the mirror, fail to stick, and fall to the floor.
SCP-5583 nods in satisfaction. It pretends to spit, and mimes blowing on the barrel of the gun. The gun discharges, and a third dart strikes SCP-5583's right eyeball and sticks there.
In visible distress, SCP-5583 drops the gun and collides with the shelf, scattering prizes on the floor. It grabs the dart with both hands, and pulls. The dart, and the eyeball, are removed with an audible pop.
SCP-5583 picks up the gun, places it on the counter, and strikes it repeatedly with its wand. Glitter obscures the camera view. When the image resolves, SCP-5583 has removed the dart from its eye and the hat from its head, has returned the eye to its socket, and is considering the tiara mournfully.
[TRIMMED FOR BREVITY]
[Camera 8: Play Area]
SCP-5583 is wiping down a playpen with a wet rag. It steps back and inspects its work.
SCP-5583 notices a helium balloon on the ceiling, and pantomimes exasperation. It begins talking to itself as it jumps up, reaching for the balloon with both hands. It misses twice before manifesting its wings and making a third attempt, which also fails. SCP-5583 makes a rude gesture at the balloon, then sniffs the air.
SCP-5583 approaches the ball pit, and looks down. It pantomimes distress; a veneer of what appears to be vomit can be seen on the balls.
SCP-5583 calls for help from off-camera, then waits for it to arrive. It does not.
SCP-5583 leaves the play area, returning five minutes later with a mop and a bucket of water. It sets the bucket down, wets the mop, and begins brushing the balls. It is still talking to itself, clearly becoming frustrated.
SCP-5583 throws the mop down with a clatter and leans over the edge of the pit, as if attempting to gauge its depth.
SCP-5583 slips on a puddle of water from the fallen mop, tumbling face-first into the ball pit. It yelps, flailing helplessly for a few moments before sinking beneath the balls.
Ten seconds later, SCP-5583's free hand emerges from the center of the pit. It swims to the edge and hauls itself out. It lies on the floor, panting heavily for eight seconds before noticing a large, spreading brown stain on its chest.
Screaming, SCP-5583 frantically wipes at the stain with both of its hands, further soiling itself. It begins to shake, making gagging motions as it staggers to its feet and runs off-camera.
[TRIMMED FOR BREVITY]
[Camera 2: Main Stage]
The stage is lit, and three animatronics are performing their routine: Sir Leaps-A-Lot, Patty King (an anthropomorphic hamburger) and Sir Berus (a three-headed humanoid dog). SCP-5583 sits down at a table, carrying a rectangular birthday cake and a full box of pizza.
SCP-5583: Sorry for the hassle, they've got so many cakes back there I got decision anxiety. Then I figured hey, cake is cake. There's no bad flavours, excepting coconut.
Patty King: By my calories, Sir Berus, isn't the moon splendid tonight?
SCP-5583: We're indoors.
Sir Berus: Why, now that you mention it, those stars are absolutely stellar!
SCP-5583: That's… implied.
SCP-5583 looks away from the stage. It picks up a metal napkin dispenser and examines its own reflection.
SCP-5583: Were we always this creepy? I'm looking at my own eyes, and I'm shivering.
Sir Leaps-A-Lot: Speaking of the moon, I'm reminded of the time I rode a shooting star, took a drink from the Milky Way, and roasted marshmallows on the sun!
SCP-5583: You tell that story every night—
Sir Berus: [gasps] You actually did that?!
SCP-5583: —and it never gets less bullshit.
Sir Leaps-A-Lot: Just kidding! But there's something real I want to share with all these fine folks tonight. Come on, fellas!
SCP-5583: "Fellas"?
Patty King: Let's take it from the top! A-one, a-two, a-one-two-three-four!
The animatronics begin playing their instruments. SCP-5583 sets down the dispenser.
SCP-5583: You know what, Pat? You're absolutely right. It's our birthday! And I'm gonna dine like the royalty you are.
SCP-5583 opens the pizza box and tears off a slice, biting into it.
SCP-5583: Spoke too soon. This tastes like… my mouth.
SCP-5583 takes another bite.
SCP-5583: And my mouth tastes like dry felt and old wires.
SCP-5583 finishes the slice.
SCP-5583: And I should probably throw this all away.
SCP-5583 pauses for seven seconds, then tears off a second slice and begins chewing on it. The animatronics begin to sing; there are long pauses between each line, and the music almost immediately desynchronizes.
Sir Berus: ♪ Today is the big day! Today is the big day! So turn that frown right upside down, and join us while we play! ♪
SCP-5583: Was it that obvious? Yeah, lads, I'm… not really in a playing mood.
Sir Leaps-A-Lot: ♪ Don't whine and mope around, just make a happy sound! ♪
SCP-5583: You really wanna do this now? I mean, I know how you guys feel about this place. Sometimes I think you're all brainwashed.
Patty King: ♪ There's nothing you can't do, when the night belongs to you! ♪
SCP-5583: Alright, you've convinced me. How do I put this.
Sir Berus: ♪ There's nothing we won't do, to make your dreams come true! ♪
SCP-5583: Just vamp a bit, would you, I gotta get this off my chest.
The animatronics begin an instrumental solo. Patty King's eyes cross, and remain crossed for the remainder of the performance.
SCP-5583: Remember when we were first starting out? Sitting in some drafty warehouse for god knows how long until they came and dressed us like something out of a furry's DeviantArt account, and put us on stage in front of all those screaming kids? Remember how we made them smile? Remember… how they made us smile? I'm not smiling anymore. What happened?
Sir Leaps-A-Lot: ♪ Make a wish, 'cuz it's gonna come soon: a comet flying past the moon! ♪
SCP-5583: No, I'm not exaggerating. Have you not been paying attention? I have.
The audio feed cuts out. The animatronics' mouths continue to move.
SCP-5583: It's like the death of a thousand cunts. First they took away my bagpipe, and then they re-branded me. I'm wearing a fucking tutu. That's not me! I hate ballet! And man, there were warning signs right from the start. They called their pizza place "Pizza Palace." Did they think they were gonna master brand that shit? In the nineties?
The audio feed resumes.
Sir Berus: ♪ It's hard to pick and choose, but you've got nothing to lose! ♪
SCP-5583: Nitpicking? You think so? I just wish things would go back to the way they used to be. Is that so much to ask for?
Patty King: Come on, everybody, don't give up yet! Give it all you got, and the wishing star will hear!
Sir Leaps-A-Lot: Nothing's impossible if you put your mind to it!
SCP-5583: You think so? Dudes, Pizza Palace is going down the toilet, and I don't just mean this location. They're all doing bad. Like, high-risk-of-bankruptcy bad. I saw it all on Derek's computer, among… other things. We'll be out of business by the end of next year, maybe sooner.
Patty King: Yeah! That's the spirit!
Sir Leaps-A-Lot: It's working! I'm really feeling it!
Sir Leaps-A-Lot's lower jaw falls off.
SCP-5583: Right? It shocked me, too. If we're still here when the cash runs dry, do they dumpster us, or sell us off to the spice mines, or what?
Patty King: ♪ I can see it! It's very bright! Come on everybody, let's own tonight! ♪
SCP-5583: I've heard the kids talking about some other pizza place they think is cool, with bears and bunnies and shit. We could change with the times, we've done it before. We've got options. Universal Studios, Disneyland, FurCon… okay, maybe not, but you get the point. I mean, we're still cool, right guys?
Sir Leaps-A-Lot: Wow! I'm… on… a… roll… guys! I'm… on… a…
SCP-5583: Guys?
Sir Leaps-A-Lot: …roll!
Sir Berus: Bring… it… on… home… people… one… more… time!
The taped track rewinds, and the animatronics and audio return to their original speed as the song restarts. SCP-5583 watches the performance in silence for several minutes before touching each of the candles on the cake with its horn, lighting them.
SCP-5583: Happy birthday, fellas.
SCP-5583 blows out the candles and cuts a corner off the cake. The animatronics continue to sing as SCP-5583 mechanically masticates the entire cake, slice by slice, staring into space.
[LOG ENDS]