Mike's PoV

Jere and I sat in the office, waiting for Purple and Scott. They were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago, yet neither had shown up.

As Jere and I were talking about which animatronic was our favorite - or really, least hated - Scott walked in, hair tufted out more than normal, shirt wrinkled and buttons misaligned.

"Sorry I'm late. I was -" he hesitated momentarily. "-doing stuff."

Purple stepped in behind Scott, appearance slightly more put-together, yet his shirt was still one button off, and he was grinning smugly. "I'm 'stuff'," he said, kissing Scott's cheek briefly.