Oh no, accidents!

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/51792184.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Fandom: Poppy Playtime (Video Game)
Characters: Original Characters, Original Male Character(s), Smiling critters,
Smiling Critters (Poppy Playtime), Huggy Wuggy (Poppy Playtime),
Huggy Buddies (Poppy Playtime), Bubba Bubbaphant (Poppy Playtime),
Bobby Bearhug (Poppy Playtime), CraftyCorn (Poppy Playtime),
Kickinchicken (Poppy Playtime), DogDay (Poppy Playtime), PickyPiggy
(Poppy Playtime), Happy Hopscotch (Poppy Playtime), Catnap (Poppy
Playtime)
Additional Tags: Original Character Death(s), Character Death, Smiling Critters -
Freeform, alive toys, Gaslighting, implied rascism, Segregation,
Corporate Espionage, Corporate Incompetence, Neglect, Negligence
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-11-23 Words: 3,306 Chapters: 1/3
 Oh no, accidents!
by Hardeggon_softtoast

Summary

A janitor working at the Playtime Co. factory experiences a strange and traumatic event while
working the nightshift a day after the realease of the new line of toys; The Smiling Critters.
George Davis demands his supervisor to make a case of the situation but is persuaded to keep
things off the books as to search for answers elsewhere.

He has two days to give him resoults before George takes this HR. What will happen?

Notes
See the end of the work for notes
The car slowed down as the stopper stood still, lining up with the post. The guard inside the
maingate leaned on the window, offering the man in the car a tired smile, “Another late night,
George?” The security guard asked knowingly.
He, George, laughed as he showed his Playtime Company lanyard to him, “Someone’s gotta
do it, Carl.” He answered. “Are you in for tonight?”

“Oh God, no,” Carl said in relief. “I get off in like an hour. The new kid will be taking the
night shifts from now on. I can’t stand it anymore.” He rambled before the stopper began to
rise up. “If this one quits after one night like last time, I’m going no-call, no-show.”

George waved at Carl farewell as he entered the large parking lot of the company. Now, it
was partially empty with just a handful of cars all scattered along the rows and rows of empty
spaces. Whoever is working this late must be some dedicated lunatic to keep running the
lines. It just shows that bringing joy to children is the utmost priority to the hand selected
group that works here in Playtime.
Exiting his car, George sighed as he slammed the door close, lunchbox and personal bag in
hand as he walked towards the main doors.
The smell of intense peppermint and lavander hit George’s senses like whimplash, causing
him to hiss the air. Strong scents always bothered him, it actually made him extremely
nausious, so to be bombarded with these particular smells instantly made him slightly dizzy.

“Oh–” He groaned, bringing a hand up to his nose, shielding it. “What’s that?”

Catching the attention of the front desk clerk, the woman raised her head from the papers,
“Hello to you too, George.”
“Hey…” George said, though muffled, he came closer. “What’s that smell?” He asked once
more.
The woman pointed over to the gift shop on the right, “New line of toys were dropped
yesterday. They’re scented comforters for young children.”
“Comforters?” George repeated.

“It’s to help them sleep, George.” The woman specified. “You don’t like them?” She asked.
George looked back at the shop, seeing the eight toys lined up on display behind the purchase
desk in the shop. The menacing smile and piercing empty eyes made him feel uneasy for a
minute.
“No,” He answered before facing the clerk. “Who’s idea was to make ‘em? Don’t the parents
find them creepy?”

The woman shrugged, “If the kid’s like them and make them happy, that’s all that matters,
George.” She said, handing the man a clipboard. “Sign here, will you?”
Doing as told, George watched as the woman handed him his temporary keycard. “Your
supervisor has you on schedule until three in the morning. Note says, clean the common area,
cafeteria, bathrooms, the Make-A-Friend room, and then the gift shop. Mop everything, the
note says.”

“So, the usual.” George sighed, taking the keycard. “Thanks, Cindy.”
Cindy waved at him as she made herself busy with the computer. George passed the main
door and began working.

Time flies over in the building, kind of. It takes only three hours for George to begin feeling
bored, doing the same job every day for random hours but always in the dead of night was
agonizing. The distant mumble of machinery behind doors and walls buzz over ever so
slightly as the janitor mops away in the hall. It was deafening, the same equivalence of
watching drying paint. Continuous, non-changing, empty hell. Finally, George takes out his
walkman cassette player and hooks it on the loop of his uniform, sliding on his headphones
before pressing play. The cassette rolls and Van Helen’s tunes play in his ears, finally
bringing some commodity and relief to his job. He moves his head on the rhythm of the beat,
the pull of every string of the guitar and the thunderous slam of the drums and the sticks curls
his mouth into a smile.

Squeezing the mop dry of water, letting it sit on the bowl with the dirt and grime, George
does his final strokes of the hall before dunking the mop back with the mucky water. The
wheels of the bucket squeaked as George guided it to the closest janitor closet, once reaching
it, he dumped out the water and lightly cleaned the mop. Preparing to clean the other hall.

His back was turned to the door, unaware of the person standing behind him. Lost in his own
train of thoughts and the music, a gust of wind swept over him following a loud thud
slamming close, causing him to jump. Looking back, George turned to the door and wiggled
the doorknob.

The sound of a laugh was muffled through the other side, instantly, George realized who it
was.

“Goddamn it, Clint–Let me out!” He cursed out his coworker.

“Not unless you say pretty please, Georgie.” Clint responded with a mocking tone.

“Clint, we’re not kids anymore–Open the door!” George slammed his fist against the hard
surface, feeling it shake and rumble from under him.

“Just say please–”

“Fuck you, Clint!” George cursed out at his coworker, kicking at the door. It swung open,
watching as it almost hit him. Just as Clint’s smile was carved upon his cheekbones soon it
dropped like rock on water when the sudden sound of someone clearing their throat cleared
the air. George sucked in his lips as he closed his eyes, just the person he did not want to see.
“Gentlemen,” The comical voice of Leith Pierre finally broke the sound barrier and Clint
turned around to look at him. “You two done having fun?”

George opened his mouth but Leith snapped his fingers at him, pointing towards him before
ordering him “Shut up.” In a stern tone.

The head of innovations then pointed over at Clint, “If you’re done distracting your
coworker, Mr. Hall, I will kindly ask you to follow me.”

Clint stammered, “What–Why?” He asked, defensively.

“I’m sending you somewhere else where you can clean the dirt off the floors AWAY from
that guy.” Leith motioned back his hand to George before crossing his arms back up to his
chest. His bulging stomach supported them still. “I can’t have you be a distraction from
someone else’s job.”

“My supervisor left instructions–” Clint tried to inform the man before him but the click and
loud snap of his fingers forced him to shut his mouth.

“And I’m giving you something new to follow. Now, shut up and do as I tell you, goddamn
it–I ain’t got all night!” Leith grumbled, snapping his fingers at the other janitor.

George took a big sigh before finally speaking up, “Just do what he tells you, Clint.” He tells
him, already tired from this entire situation.
Clint looked back at him, somehow expecting as if he was going to back him up. George
nodded at his coworker. The troublemaker smacked his lips before grabbing his janitor
trolley, Leith then turned to walk in front of him and Clint followed after him.

But not before he kicked George’s foot, forcing the man to bite his tongue. Clint looked back
at him with a mischievous look, somehow still getting his last laugh, and sped up behind
Leith. Finally leaving George to be by his solitude once more.
Turning back to fill the mop bucket, something scurried off at the corner of his eye. He
furrowed his brow and began to move away chemical bottles, extra mop buckets and mops,
as well as his backpack and then there it was. A groan rumbled out of his mouth as he saw
the giant rat hole, all chewed up and open. It was big, must have been a colossal rat that did
it.
The intrusive thought of wanting to stick his hand through the hole was soon pushed back as
it followed the worse case scenario. Getting bit by a rat. That’s a safety hazard.

He got up from the floor, grabbed his bag and tucked up on the high shelves of the janitor’s
closet. Closing the door behind him, George walked back to the front desk of the factory.
Already knowing the procedure. To his (not really) surprise, Cindy wasn't there when he
finally reached the desk. Looking at the clock that hung above the blue toy painting showed
that it was five minutes before eleven o’ clock.

He carefully searched around the desk, looking for the safety claim paper forms to fill out
what he’s found. Picking a red pen from the “best mom” mug that the clerk had tucked
behind a couple of desk clutter, George leaned on it as he began to write down what he
discovered.
Just as he was about to finish, a soft but noticeable thud echoed in the distance. George
looked up towards the source of it, eyes landing on the gift shop. The first thing he noticed
was the line of the new toys that was introduced to him was tampered. There were seven
creepy toys on the display, not eight like he remembered seeing hours ago. Placing his pen
down, George walked into the darkened gift shop, his shadow casting upon the new toys.
Peaking over the desk, the man saw one of the toys facing down to the floor, confirming his
suspicions. Eyes locked on it, George walked behind the desk and knelt down to grab it,
revealing a stuffed chicken teddy thing. The packaging read “Smiling Critters'' on the bottom
before soon following with “infused with wonderful scents.”
His nose itches slightly. Still picking out the overpowering smells he smelt before, however,
now that he was closer to the rest: others were soon registered. A hit of jasmine, vanilla, rose
and lemon became accessible to his senses but the one that he held in his hands was not.
Turning the package revealed the smell of the thing, as well as presenting the cartoon
equivalent of the toy, reading ylang-ylang behind it. Now, even more curious, George brought
the toy closer to his nose in an attempt to pick out the smell. First thing he noticed, bananas.
Like, ripe bananas. Almost at the brink of spoiling and rotting. It also itched slightly, which
caused George to take the toy away from himself and begin to scratch his nose.

“Weird thing,” He uttered under his breath before placing it right on the slot that it fell off
from. George gave it a small pat on the head before exiting the shop.

Another thud made him stop in his tracks. Standing right outside the stop. George looked
back inside, the yellow toy had fallen off again.

The man looked back at the desk before going back to the shop. With an exasperated sigh, he
picked it right up again and placed it back on its slot, in order to prevent the thing from
falling off again, George decided to move all the toys back a little. Pushing them away from
the edge of the display.

“What do you think you’re doing?” An accusatory voice made George flinch. Turning around
to see Leith again. He was holding his suitcase and other personal items, presummedly ready
to leave.
“I-Iwas just–The toy fell.” George stuttered.
“And do you really expect me to believe that? Huh?” Leith asked him, looking down at him
with disgust. “I know your type of people, Davis. Can’t ever not keep their damn hands to
themselves.” He accused him.
George felt his anger built up inside of him, bubbling against his chest.
“Get the hell out of here and do your damn job, you ni–” Leith closed his mouth, holding
back on his words before pointing outside and snapping his fingers in a repeated manner.
Like Geroge was a dog.

Hands curling into fists, George walked past the head of innovation, leaving the gift shop. As
the janitor walked away, he heard Leith mutter a derogatory word at him.

Hours later…

This was George’s last stop before leaving, the keycard beeped as the door unlocked, he
pushed it open with the janitor trolley, looking at the Make-A-Friend room. The cart rumbled
under his weight, placing the locks in to prevent it from rolling around. There was paint
splattered all over the machine and floor, causing him to sigh heavily. He grabbed his
sandwich that lay in the trolley and took a bite out of it, placing it back down before bringin
the mop bucket off the cart.

Dumping the mop in the fresh water solution and squeezing off the excess, George slapped it
upon the floor with a wet splat, swaying back and forth on the dirty paint spot. Attempting to
distract himself from what Leith had accused him of hours ago. The room hissed and croaked
due to the machinery still being active, although idle. The eyes of the strange thing moved in
every single direction George went through, following his every move.
The floor was now clean, now it was the machine’s turn to get cleaned. For safety, George
cranked down the lever, shutting it down. The eyes of it slowly closed, as if going to sleep,
while George went back to grab the cleaner bottle and a cloth. Squirting some on the metal
surface of the end of the machine, metal clanking echoed in the distance. One after the other,
sounding like steps itching closer and closer, George took his headphones and placed it back
on, pressing play on the cassette player.

Music blasted against his ears, bobbing his head to the rhythm–George cleaned away. The
clanking echoed closer and closer before it stopped above the janitor. The vent’s door opened,
swaying back and forth as it creaked. George moved away to the other side, where the toy
parts would be placed. Cleaning the vent acrylic on the outside, wiping away the hand prints.
Some of the paint was on the inside of the vent, George clicked his tongue as he dipped his
hand on the inside seeing if he was able to reach only to be proven futile. If he didn’t clean it
all the way, his supervisor is gonna chew him out tomorrow. Call him incompetent at his job.

Not wanting to hear his voice and having no other choice, George jumped on the conveyor
belt and shimmied his way inside the vent. The space was tight, cramped even, making it
difficult for George to move on his stomach. Exiting the vent, George laid on his back and
pushed himself forward with his legs, reaching the end with ease. He passed the wet cloth
across the transparent walls, making the mish-mash of colors disappear from it.

CA-CLANK!

The conveyor belt began to rumble, causing George to gasp, a whistle followed before it
began to move. “H-Hey–Wait!” George exclaimed, as his body was being moved towards the
first mouth of the machine. He tried to stop himself from moving, laying flat hands against
the wet vent. They slipped and moved effortlessly, no resistance whatsoever. No way to
prevent himself from reaching the opening and closing mouth.

“H-Help–Help! Somebody help!” George shouted as loud as he could. “Someone, please!

Someone help me! Help!” He called out to the room. George’s cries fell across the room,
filling the room.

The sound of the metal teeth of the door clanked louder, rapturing his ears, ashout soon
erupted out of George as he scrunched his eyes close. Expecting the end of his existence.

CA-CLANK!

The feel of the last clank gazed against his head, scratching his buzzed-off head. George
trembled in his spot, shock and fear coursing through him. A pair of hands grabbed at his
ankles, George shouted and kicked at whoever was grabbing.

“George! George–Calm down!” A familiar voice called to him. “It’s me!”

Breathing heavily through his nose, looked down and saw Clint looking up at him. “It’s okay!
I turned it off–You’re safe!” Clint said.
George gulped, the tension easing as Clint grabbed him again, pulling him out. Falling to the
floor, George heaved in air as if to help clarity return to him. “George–” the other janitor
called to him, kneeling down to his level. “George, what happened? Why were you inside?!”
He asked him.
“I-I-I d-don’t know..!” George stuttered, “I-I-I-I-I was cleaning th-the inside–”
“Did you turn it off before going in?” Clint interrupted him. Shaking, George nodded.
Clint furrowed his brow, rubbing George’s shoulder, “It’s okay…It’s okay.” He tried to
soothe his coworker.

“Alright, alright–Let me get this straight,” Clint and George’s supervisor, Don, leaned on his
choice. “You were cleaning the Make-A-Friend room, you turned it off the machine on the
outside, noticed there was paint inside, crawled in to clean it and the machine just–” Don
made a gesture with his hands, “Turned on? By itself?”

“I was alone in the room, Don!” George shouted. “You were the one that assigned me to
clean it!”

Don turned to look at Clint, “Are you sure you’re not playing any sort of messed up prank on
him?” He asked the other.
“Dude!” Clint exclaimed, causing George to look at him. “I’d never do anything like that! I
don’t endanger people!”

“Then how the hell did you hear him screaming for help? I left instructions for you to clean
the other side of the factory.” Don asked him.
“Leith told me to do something else–” He turned to George, “Tell ‘em, George!”
Don raised his hand at Clint, “I don’t need to hear the ass-covering excuse–”

“But, it’s true!” George exclaimed, Don looked at him with a shocked expression, “Leith
caught Clint while we were talking and told him to follow him. Don–”

“Okay, okay.” Don eased the situation, George glared at his supervisor, “Alright, let’s take it
easy, won’t you? I’ll talk to Leith to check the security cameras of yesterday.”
“No, Don!” George rebutted, “I don’t want you to ‘just talk’ to Leith–I wanna make a case!”
George tapped at Don's desk.

The supervisor straightened up, “Alright–Let’s not take this too far.”

“But it has to, Don!” George raised his voice, “If it wasn’t for Clint–I’d be DEAD! Do you
not care?!”

“I care for all my employees–”

“Then make this a case!”

“George, let’s make a deal,” Don raised his voice to overpower George. The man glared at
him before Don made a motion with his hands, as if it were telling him to calm down. “Let
me talk…to Leith,” He pauses.
George opens his mouth, “Hold it!” Don exclaimed. “Hold it…I’m not done,” Don said.
George sucked in his lips

“Let me talk to him. I’ll explain to him the situation and he’ll show me the camera feed to see
what really happened.” Don spoke softly. “The camera would have captured something
during the time that you were cleaning. We’ll see if it really happened or someone
maliciously–” Don looked at Clint. “Turn it on to hurt you. If we find something, we’ll make
a case.”

Clint furrowed his brow, George looked at him before turning back to look at Don. “How
long?”

“A week.” Don answered.

“Two days.” Geroge corrected him.

“George–” Don called to him.

“You have two days!” George exclaimed, “Before I go to HR and I personally make the case
myself.”

“You’re really twisting my arm here, George–A week won’t kill you.” Don tried to justify the
wait time.

“If I don’t hear from you in two days, Don–I’m quitting.” George threatened.

George and Don looked at eachother. He wasn’t joking, George has handled a handful of
bullshit for too long, he draws the line at this. If it wasn’t him, it’d be someone else who’d
experience what he just went through.
Defeated, Don sighed, “Alright. Two days,” He agreed. “You’ll get your answer in two days.”
End Notes

i wanna try writing something after the recent ARG and teasings of CH 3 of Poppy Playtime.
A very short story but with very long chapters

hope you enjoy!

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!