[The one that lasted the longest? I'm not sure. I've heard whispers about the last guy. I think he might have lasted a couple of months. Which is pretty good, I'd wager.] Bran was good with mechanical things and had quick reflexes, thanks to his love for all things video games...but he didn't think he'd do very well in the night guard position. That would be far too stressful for him. He was already working three jobs--any more stress and he'd drop dead!

[I don't know about any past guards, but the last one was a guy. I don't think they were prepared to lose him after he lasted so long, so they had to scramble to find a replacement.] Perhaps the owner was hoping the last guard would manage to win over his stubborn animatronics...but obviously that venture failed.

The garage was a simple brick building. Plain and unassuming. Bran spotted her standing outside through the office window just as her final text arrived. With a grunt he hopped up from the cushy office chair and strode to the door, pushing it open. "Over here. Door's locked, so no one else should be coming in. We've got cameras but they don't have audio. We're good." The office was messy. Stacks of paper were scattered haphazardly throughout the room. A large bulletin board on one wall was tacked full of different papers, including a work schedule and a hastily scrawled warning to someone named Phil warning him not to steal other people's lunches in the fridge.

Bran flopped over into one of the office chairs, wheeling it back behind a desk with a fancy computer on it. "Grab any chair you want. Place is a disaster zone anyway, so no one's gonna care." For a few moments he just sat there awkwardly, apparently gathering his thoughts. Then he wheeled the chair a few inches to his left and reached underneath the desk to turn on the computer. "So...what do you want to know, exactly?" he finally inquired. "You've seen them walk and talk, so you already know they're not your average machines."