Chapter Text
The sound of metal springs rapidly coiling and relaxing reverberated off concrete walls deep in an area hidden from the public's eye. What once was an attraction built to harbor cheer, joy, and entice adults and children to come play now was a demented trap built to trick unsuspecting fools looking for money. Posters and murals depicting what the mascots were supposed to look like were plastered all over, nothing but imagery that would give people a false sense of security before finding out what those mascots really looked like. Originally cartoons, the cast of a once beloved TV show now were twisted beyond recognition. The one the springs belonged to and what lurked through staff only areas was none other than the titular protagonist and namesake of the entire show, Frankie. Of course Frankie was a bit different from his on-screen appearance, in fact he wasn't Frankie at all. Sure his name was effectively the same and he had some semblance to him in terms of appearance, but from the very moment he was created he was told a different story. He was born of the soul and in memoriam of one of the departed showrunner's who died too soon, "Franky"—with a Y. Out of grief the remaining showrunner and the brother to the deceased crafted him to carry on the legacy, for him to help continue the show even in its... New format. He didn't like to think about that though, truth be told he didn't know what he was in his current state. He held no memories of what he was like, what Franky was like, nor did he feel like something that was once a man. All he knew was that he was created to help his brother get their show back and if that meant being a ruthless monster who would rip contestants apart, so be it. He knew his place and that was right alongside his brother–
[" FRANKY! "]
Franky's long lop-ears twitched as he heard his name be called out over the facilities' intercom. His body jittered unnaturally, all the springs connected to his limbs froze up and he rotated his head to face a camera on the wall pointed directly at him. On the other side of the screen watching him dwelled his creator and only family, the real Frankie.
[" Sorry there Franky, didn't mean to alarm you yet we got SO MUCH to do in such a SHORT amount of time that I thought it was important enough to use the intercom to speak to you !”]
The rabbit’s ears twitched again. With a tilted head he looked at the camera and stood still, not wanting the rustling of his springy joints to drown out whatever was about to be said
[" While nobodies watching right now that won't mean they won't be soon! As of this very moment I've been getting everything in order for when they are! Apologies Franky for not telling you sooner but I'm sure you'll be happy to know that we managed to earn enough donations to get this show renewed for ANOTHER SEASON!... Just barely at least... "
Franky's ears raised slightly hearing the last few words muttered quietly. Keeping the show running as well as all the expenses of the parkour palace had eaten up most of the money they were supposed to be saving up to renew the long canceled television show. He usually didn't concern himself with the finances but if it was affecting the chances of them getting what was once theirs it would soon become his issue as well.
[" Heh, don't you worry your big ears about it! Just meet me in my office, we have some BIG things to discuss this new season, I'm thinking for a little shake up! "]
With directions being given, Franky scampered towards the other rabbit’s office, scrunching down here and there whenever he needed to go down an elevator or up stairs. He often wondered why he didn't have an office like Frankie did, did he merely not need one? He did run on electricity, at least his body did, so wouldn't it make more sense to give him some sorta special room where he could recharge instead of having to share a room with the other mascots? Was it that he didn't... Deserve one?
With a shake of his head he dismissed such a silly thought and he pressed on into one of the final areas of the little show they had crafted. A momentous attraction dubbed "Frankie's Frozen Peak" that was ripe to face the action of people attempting to reach the top. Sadly no one even made it past the first area, let alone this final one. Despite the rather grim decor he had been commanded to setup, not a single soul was ever able to bear witness to the various platforms, hazards, or the rising pink "slime" that were installed into the mountain. Franky didn't really care about the lack of use the mountain saw though, in fact the less people he had to deal with the better. The only thing he really paid attention to in the immediate area were the various cardboard cutouts placed along where people would line up to participate. The friendly smiling face of what he was modeled after and what a cartoon should look like followed him as he veered to the side and ignored the mountain, instead heading towards a staircase on the side. With a quick stretch of his hand to the very top, Franky let his stressed coil arm relax and skyrocket him upwards. The entire stairway shook once he landed on it, his heavy feet kicking up dust as he tilted his head towards the human sized door with a sign next to it reading "CEO OFFICE". It was a tight fit but he was more than adept at squeezing into tight spaces, with a contract of his springs he waddled over and opened the door to the office.
There awaiting him sat Frankie, his supposed brother and the one destined to eventually take the role as the host once this silly gameshow came to an end. While Franky himself looked rather unruly with rows of horrendous sharp teeth, a maw always partially agape, and accessories that consisted of old scrap metal with a sloppy, almost worn down paint coating them, Frankie had none of that. The once human was what the TV show Frankie was supposed to look like, pristine, cleanly, and friendly looking. The only real difference between the cartoon appearance of the magical rabbit and Frankie’s body was the fact that Frankie had these small beady eyes and while his was smaller than his own prototype body, it was still quite large unlike the tiny toon that was showcased everywhere. Once upon a time when Franky first awoke Frankie himself was human as he once was. His brains and nervous system wasn't exactly attuned to his body like they were now but he could still remember opening his eyes and through faded vision being greeted by a smile of his brother who welcomed him back into the world. His creation was what led to Frankie becoming as he was now, once he was created and subsequently Henry Hotline, Frankie perfected the process and ditched his old human self to become Frankie to take back the old TV show and renew his place as the host. Franky was aware once the TV show was renewed he would not be showcased in it, he wasn't perfect nor anywhere near as appealing looking as his brother, but being the main one who the cameras focused on when slaughtering the contestants was more than enough to satiate his desire for fame. After all he has 57 seasons worth of footage of him doing what he did best, and soon it was to be 58.
"FRANKY!" Frankie greeted as soon as he saw his brother's rustling limbs and head squeeze down the corridor "took ya long enough! Now take a seat because you may wanna sit down for this one"
Franky looked towards the wall and noticed a chair. Considering his torso was twice the size of it he silently rejected and stared back at his brother.
"...Okay that's perfectly okay—now DOWN TO BUSINESS!" Frankie reached down and from his desk he pulled out a file holding a stack of miscellaneous papers "we got a lot of ground to cover... A lot..."
Although Franky didn't know what was in the folder of the papers, the intensity of his brother's stare alerted him to something being off. The air grew thick and he felt unsettled to know that something changed his brother's usually cheery mood. If he was capable of sweating in his metallic body he would at the sudden light switch tone shift and feared the worse about their current show and the future renewal of the original. With a small raise of his hand he reached over, hoping to take a peek at what could possibly be considered "a lot".
FWHIP
Frankie had slammed the folder shut and leaned back "HA! No, no, no, no! You don't need to worry yourself about this!" Frankie opened it once more and sifted through the papers, his head moving with each scan of the contents "I wouldn't want you to get stressed with all this, after all I know how sloppy you can get when you're out of the zone, wouldn't want a repeat of season 26 would we!?"
Franky's hand went back into its resting position and a growl emerged from his mouth. It was his personal way of expressing subtle annoyance although it quickly subsided at the mention of season 26. The cries were something that stuck with the viewers even after all this time.
"That's what I thought, now as for what we gotta discuss–" Frankie picked up a piece of paper displaying a graph, one that had the direction one line steadily set in the red "things haven't been... Great with the gameshow and for the past 3 seasons we've had to dip into the savings just to keep this place up, running, and funded"
Franky let out another growl, this time one of worry. If they weren't profiting or bare minimum breaking even with each season that meant there would be no big Finding Frankie comeback. With how much they desired to get that show back it made him fear their dream would be out of reach.
“What I wanted to go over with you was the ratings regarding the past few seasons and why we are actively losing money, it seems here that nobody getting far becomes boring, honestly the fact that barely now it's starting to become repetitive is a miracle!" Frankie chuckled and waved his hands in the air "now we are running a gameshow here and while we certainly can't let anybody win there's at least gotta be players to play in it"
Franky didn't understand...
The mascot saw his brother's confusion and sighed, with a shake and roll of his head to mimick and eye roll Frankie spoke in a quieter, more serious tone "Listen, while I know you just loooovveee~ ripping the contestants to shreds or squishing them underneath your feet we gotta break even this time or else there may not only be no TV show, but there may be no gameshow or even parkour palace!" Frankie held his head as it spun around on his spring neck before stopping "All you gotta do is simply hold off until I give the signal, heck maybe at least let them meet Henry, I'm sure he's probably dying to chat with somebody that isn't over the phone."
Franky didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like the sound of that one bit.
His entire body vibrated in discomfort. The very idea of anything different being done made him unleash a guttural noise from the depths of his head that was lined with bolts. Springs of his emitted a rattling sound as they stretched out, his hands and feet pushing against the confines of the tiny room. It was his show, not Henry's, why would the audience care if the contestant met Henry or not!? It was bullshit on every degree and account, until they got the money HE should be the one with all the attention on him. This gameshow would be the only time he got the spotlight so why was it being stolen by the person who the show was named after—Oh wait! That's right! IT WASN'T! The shows named Finding Frankie! NOT FINDING HENRY FUCKING HOTLINE!
"FRANKY!"
Franky froze up. The heavy tone carried by the other rabbit made him feel like his entire body had spontaneously rusted. Although incapable of seeing any emotion other than a giant smile, he could feel the rage in those black dots that stared at him.
With Franky slowly retracting back Frankie sighed, releasing his anger at his brother "...listen, I know you love to kill but just this once let at least one live okay? Just long enough to give the audience false hope, donate some more, and then once we reach a goal you can do with him whatever you please" With a wag of his finger Frankie switched back to his energetic persona, speaking hoppy and jolly "we're running a game show here, we gotta at least showcase somebody actually running through a few obstacles right?! This isn't just some snuff livestream!" Frankie suddenly perked up and looked towards a printer that had a stack of cold papers in the output tray "well... At least it wasn't intended to be" Frankie reached over and looked at a few of them, each page lined head to toe with requests of donors. It was times like this the once-human wished he could grimace and not be held back by his wide smile "I'm pretty sure everyone who sends us some of these just wanna watch you kill people in different ways, pretty uhh... pretty disturbing stuff now that I think about it" he scratched his head seeing only a few of the very graphic descriptions "eugh... whatever—THIS IS A GAME SHOW AT THE END OF THE DAY!" Frankie tossed the papers and let them fly about in the air before turning to Franky one last time. With a shoo gesture he gave one last command "go tell Henry he'll be expected to actually chase a contestant this time around, maybe that could liven up that old sourpuss, last I saw he was letting the stress of that talk show of his get to him again”
Franky said nothing and did as he was told, crawling out through the small area he fell all the way to the floor of the mountain parkour area. The springs his legs consisted of broke his fall upon landing down, his torso bobbing for a few seconds absorbing the impact. As he made his way to Henry's local he couldn't help but feel... Robbed? Was robbed the right word? He didn't know, all he knew was that he didn't like this direction the show was going in if it meant he was going to get shelved. The people didn't want to see Henry, and they definitely didn't want to see some loser in a costume run about, they wanted him! They wanted Frankie—or at least who they believed to be Frankie. His name was pronounced the same and even if he wasn't the host Frankie, that title belonged to his brother, he was going to cherish every moment of attention he could get where the audience believed him to be the one and only. Just the thought of having to give up something that belonged to him made his body quake but he tried his hardest to not show any emotion, not wishing to risk having an outburst that could easily be recorded on one of the many CCTV cameras scattered about. He'd just tell the objecthead the plan and get ready for what attention he could garner by only killing 3 of the 4 contestants immediately.
"Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring! It's all they FREAKIN' DO!"
Franky came to a halt as he heard the familiar voice of the talkshow host lament his frustrations. He was only at the museum and was surprised to find Henry out of his household, the mascot just trying to exert the pain of his head constantly ringing. The monstrous rabbit couldn't help but watch the sad display before him, smelling the distinct scent of rot that filled the air from a few of the people who he had killed.
Henry stood with his back to him, preoccupied with using some of the blood of the past contestants to create a grim mural as a testament and hopefully message to all those that saw to stop calling in "why does Frankie gotta insist on playing reruns—actually better yet why do the MORONS that watch them call the number—WE AIN'T ON AIR! QUIT CALLING MY GOD DAMN PHONE!" Henry placed his hands on his receiver, repeatedly picking it up and slamming it back on the hook to hang up whoever was calling "AGH! If I could get my hands on that stupid rabbit and his STUPID FREAKIN' SMILE I'D–"
Henry turned around and was met with the sight of two springs extending upwards. The rabbit had approached him as he rambled on and upon looking up and seeing Franky face to face he felt his blood and oil run cold. Henry dropped the receiver he held and let it dangle off to the side by its cord, his pitch black eyes eyes fixated on nothing else other than the rows of large sharp teeth and black spheres with glowing circles on the center that the rabbit had. His limbs felt heavy as he took a step back and tried to speak, his once normal voice now broken revealing a nervous one overlaid with what sounded like dead air or static.
"F-Franky! How nice of you to stop by! What can I uhh... Do for you on this lovely day?"
Franky didn't respond. Instead his eyes "blinked", the blue light turning off and back on. With a slow look past the mascot he stared at the mural behind Henry, one made out of pain from simply serving his role. Henry's "eyes" followed the path Franky's took, landing on the crude drawing he made depicting him with the message "DON'T CALL" next to it.
"Oh that?... Uhh d-don't worry about that, I'll clean it up, I promise! I know Frankie leaves you in charge of decorating after all" Henry clasped his hands together, the blood smearing further over his glove-like hands "I didn't mean to make that mess I just... Just... I can't deal with this GOD FORSAKEN ringing anymore, you understand? Right?"
Henry's voice glitched again, going back to its previous tones as he surveyed Franky's eyes for any sign of sympathy. Instead all he saw were those cold lights staring back at him. With a raise of a giant "gloved" hand Henry soon began taking more steps back, the springy appendage coming near him.
"Woah! Woah! Hold on there Franky!" Henry felt his back touch the smooth surface of the wall, the dark blood smearing all over his suit "Listen I wasn't talking about you! It was your brother who I was mad at!"
Henry winced and shrunk under Franky's gaze. With a past memory playing back in his head where the rabbit had been commanded to hurt him, the telephone head covered his face in order to spare whatever damage would soon come. Franky's big hand approached closer by the moment and Henry could only imagine the worse, what if Frankie had heard him and commanded his monstrous sibling to teach him a lesson. What if the Deputy had put him up to it? That quacking AI was always looking for every excuse to lock him up and maybe this was the opportunity the duck was looking for. His mind raced with ideas of both what Franky would do to him or what set the beast off. The constant flip flop between thoughts made his head rattle and shake as if he was getting a call. The migraine he had a moment ago returned in full force and he fell to his knees, desperately grasping at himself to keep his head still and quiet down.
click
"Huh?"
Henry opened his eyes, the heavy weight of a hand was brought atop him but there was an odd sense of relief brought along with it. Instead of hitting him or using those hands to crush the plastic his face consisted of, Franky had reached down and fixed the receiver back on its hook. The rattling stopped and the talk show host sighed, relief filling him as Franky continued to look down at him. This time with the knowledge that the rabbit had no malicious intent or cause behind his surprise visit.
Truth be told Franky pitied his fellow part machine part man. Henry was the second creation made using the leftovers of another deceased person, another predecessor to what Frankie was and his perfection. The mascot head wasn't as hideous as he was, but he still suffered from the result of imperfection and ultimately being just a prototype. While the idea of a character whose head was a telephone was a good idea on paper and worked well in an animated format, sadly when that fictitious character became a reality he suffered from horrible pain from the nonstop calls he received. Each time anyone would call in on the hotline Henry would be forced to advertise on his show or press a button on the many rotary phones placed about the facility it would go directly to his head. Even if he was nowhere near the museum or household he could hear the ringing every night when he was charging. The ringing and attention had driven Henry mad and Franky wished for nothing more than to relieve him of the horrid sound and pain, to be able to take over his segment just so the object head could catch a break. Sadly he couldn't, instead all he could do was be there and hopefully provide him some solace.
"Franky... You gotta stop, you can't just scare me like that!”
Franky understandably knew where Henry was coming from and gave a small nod in response. Against his will back when Henry lashed out at a caller on his talk show Frankie had sicked him on the telephone and knew where the fear stemmed from. He couldn't fault him for thinking in such a way and recoiled his hand away, letting Henry catch his bearings before giving him the message.
"Err– thanks for hanging up for me" Henry stood up and dusted himself off, although still dirty he tried to maintain what the pristine color of his red suit should look like "Now did ya come all this way to meet with lil' ol' me or did the higher-up boss man send ya?"
Franky raised 2 fingers.
"Of course..." Henry made a sighing sound and pressed his blood stained fingers to the numbers on his head, repeatedly turning the metal dialer around he said "What is it now? I certainly didn't blow up at anyone last night nor do I think I did anything to make the big man mad" he looked back to his drawing and pointed at it "it wasn't for that... Was it?",
Franky shook his head and pointed to one of the turned off TVs. It was at this point Henry got the message, it was an all too familiar gesture signaling what soon would be the airing of a new season of the gameshow they starred in. Well, they all supposedly starred in it but it was only really Franky who did the dirty work of taking out contestants. This season was clearly different though, Franky pointed at him and Henry didn't know what to make of the gesture. The cogs in and wires in his brain started to turn and after staring into those glowing blue eyes of his mascot partner in crime it all clicked.
"Wait! Wait! Wait! No! ya don't mean that I–!?" Henry pointed at himself "But I thought you were the–" he turned his finger to Franky "I know I am using their bodies for paint but I don't–" Henry gestured to the bodies before finally letting his arms rest to his sides. With another sighing noise he looked upwards, hoping he was mistaken "You don't mean to tell me the boss wants me to actually participate in the show right? I thought you were supposed to kill 'em quick!”
Franky continued to point at Henry and gave another subtle nod. He didn't like the idea either but ultimately knew better than to get jealous, besides this would be a temporary break for the object head where he'd be free of the ever present ringing. Franky regretted thinking such harsh things earlier, seeing how Henry reacted it was clear he didn't intend to steal the spotlight in any way shape or form. The rabbit overall did enjoy his phone—associate? Friend? Brethren? Whatever he was—he found Henry not only somewhat humorous but a stark contrast to his brother. While he occasionally worried and was fearful of what Frankie would do, Henry was the complete opposite and actually feared him. Franky didn't exactly like being feared but he understood it, trying his best to appear friendly and to ease any nerves he caused to someone he never wished to harm again.
This friendly and relaxed attitude did help. Henry took a step past Franky and started to head out of the camera’s blindspot, watching closely as the rabbit tailed him "Well I can give it a shot but I wouldn't know what to actually do, it's just chasing them and trying to grab ‘em right?”
Franky stood still. That was essentially it at a first glance but there was a bit more complexity to killing in his book. There was a right and wrong time to do it, like when they are trying to run back out from whence they came and they are only a step away before you quickly grab them, yank them back, and watch as they scream as they watch the exit they were so close to get quickly farther and farther. It was small things like that that made killing a lot more than just “grabbing someone”.
“Honestly if it's as easy as you make it look then I'm sure I can put on a show that'll be close to what you're capable of” Henry stroked his phone as if he were slicking his hair back and nudged Franky’s springy legs “of course no one does it better than you big guy, honestly it may be better if I give them one little scare and BOOM! You can come out and finish ‘em!”
Franky immediately nodded at the suggestion, his head rocking so fast his spring made it bounce up and down a bit.
Henry gave a small chuckle at the rabbit’s enthusiasm and kicked a vent open “alrighty I guess that's settled, be seeing ya once we're on air then Franky”
With one final wave the objecthead departed and Franky finally calmed down, giving a wave as he watched his friend intently.
Was Henry truly his friend? It was very well established the object head did fear him to a certain degree but simultaneously Henry was the only one he felt truly comfortable with. He loved Frankie of course but sometimes he couldn't help but feel like he just wasn't his brother. As horrible as that was to say, certain moments made the rabbit consider he was wrong in one more way than he thought. He held no memories of what Franky was like when he was alive nor did he have any interest to have those memories. Franky, the original, would probably unconditionally do what he was told and not question the commands of someone that was family.
So why was it that he was questioning Frankie?
It didn't make any sense and he felt himself grasping at ideas in his head that would perhaps explain. Instead all that Franky could think of was what happened with Henry and the mural still on the wall. The demented drawing made from the deceased was a straight cry for help made because Henry was created with a massive flaw. Frankie surely didn't intend for Henry to be pained by the very shtick he was known for but why was it that he forced the telephone to do his show every single night? Why did he force Henry to continue pretending to want people to call in? The question that plagued him most of all and was what caused Henry to fear him in the first place was why did Frankie force him to punish Henry for rightfully getting mad once? It wouldn't have affected the show that drastically and it was a small mistake. Was it simply that he was in the wrong here? Were the begging words of Henry truly meant to be ignored and he was supposed to blindly carry out such a task without question? Franky didn't know. He felt like he probably didn't need to know. After all, with a new season coming on the air he should focus on getting things set up for the incoming contestants. Everything had to be perfect, and if it meant blindly following orders then so be it. It wasn't just about the TV show anymore, this was about Frankie and his desire for this entire gameshow to grow into what it originally was. To be so much bigger, better, so much more than they currently had.