Fnaf Pirate Novels & Stories

"They do whatever pleases them. Their mess is not my responsibility. Just go ahead and kill them or report them to the knights. Make sure you play with death very well." Ophelia suggests that "Why won't you command your pirate minions? You're the captain of the ship." "Pirate?" "Dad, what's a pirate?" "I don't do free favors." He shrugs. "It's not a— Alright." I calmed myself a bit. "Perhaps it's the compensation for the fray I had done. What do you want?" "Ten million gold!" "You just got a whole treasure, greedy," Ophelia says. "I cannot afford that. You won't mind if I report your pirate minions for the knights to capture them?"

While they waited for the food, they began to talk. "So, I must ask, I want to know the backstory with Pierre. Everyone seems to stay clear of him.” "Okay, it's a bit of a sad story, actually. When I was ten, I, Alana, Corbin, and Ranger all went out. It was just the four of us. It was like two weeks before Alana was supposed to marry Prince Antonio. We had gone into this little shop and Corbin pissed someone off. He ended up getting into a fight, killing the other guy. He ran back out to our carriage and Ranger followed him. They started yelling and the police officers came, so Alana went out to try and soothe the matter. She told me to stay in the store, so I did. I watched as she calmed e

another voice chimed in, a hint of jest in the tone. "Well, no one in their right mind would dare lay a finger on the gang leader's man," Max declared with a swagger. "Unless they're itching for a slow, agonizing demise," someone else boasted, triggering a round of hearty laughter that echoed through the room. "And what if they're willing to kiss their livelihood goodbye?" came a curious query. "Nobody in their right senses would want to be on the blacklist across the Quintana and Dalton territories," a wise-cracking voice retorted.

"Now, listen to me you fat wanker. This is just a dream, so my friend hasn't really cut off your tiny little dick. Thing is, when you wake up, it'll be just like he has. You won't be able to get it up, and I doubt you'll have much interest in sex anyway." Michael leaned over, holding the severed prick in another towel. "I can put this back on, but I don't really think I want to. I might be persuaded to do so if..." "What? Mickey cried, spitting out the towel. The tears were making his ugly face even puffier. It wasn't a pretty sight. "I'll come and glue this back on, if you go to the police and confess to all the rapes you've committed. Oh, and before you're put away for a good long time, I