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Stanley trudged down the hall, rubbing his face as he tried to ignore the narrator who was still talking, not noticing Stanley slowing down.
When Stanley leaned on a doorframe, the narrator finally stopped and looked him over.
"Stanley are you alright?"
He nodded and took a breath, continuing on the path to the door on the left. His vision was blurring and his eyes hurt, feeling dry and heavy.
"... Stanley are you sure you're alright..? You look unwell.."
"Just tired." he signed. They've been doing this non stop for what has felt like days now. He needed a rest but wasn't completely sure the narrator would let him. Until he told Stanley to turn around.
"You heard me, go back and head to the break room." The narrator ordered.
Stanley made his way back, a bit wary of what the narrator had planned. When he got there however, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Except for a pillow and a blanket on the sofa.
"There you go. I know it's not.. the best but.. it was all I could come up with in the short time.. besides I know you like the couch. It seems quite comfortable from how much you want to lay on it when I'm trying to tell my story." The narrator tried to tease and quickly became shy about it. "I'm only kidding, Stanley. I don't want you to take it the wrong way."
Stanley smiled up at the ceiling tiredly, signing a thank you to the being supposedly up there. He unfurled the blanket and laid down underneath it. He turned over, fluffed the pillow, and settled in.
"Right then. I'll leave you to rest." The narrator spoke quietly and dimmed the harsh office lights.
Stanley turned over again. Then he fluffed the pillow again. Then he tossed. Then turned. Then tossed again. He flipped the pillow to the other side. Then again. Then he sat up and sighed. It was too quiet.
"Stanley? Is the couch alright? I knew I should have put a bed but Christ, I'd have to rearrange everything for it to be right and–"
Stanley waved his hands around to stop the narrator from rambling.
'The couch is perfectly fine. It's just.. too quiet.' Stanley thought to him.
"Oh uhm. Perhaps I can turn on of of those ASMR videos for you? Those help people to sleep right?" The narrator rummaged around and suddenly a video of someone with very long nails tapping a microphone was projected on the nearby wall. Stanley pressed his lips into a thin line, listening for a moment before the narrator stopped it all.
"No no no, that's not good. How about ocean sounds?"
Stanley shrugged and listened. They were nice but he still couldn't sleep. So they tried the sound of a campfire burning and rain falling and birds chirping but none of it was right.
"Well, I'm stumped." The narrator said flatly.
Stanley rubbed his eyes. Maybe Narry could read to him or something.
"Read to you? Like.. the script?"
Stanley shook his head. 'No, like... Read me a bedtime story.'
"Honestly Stanley, aren't you a bit old for that?"
He got a stern look from the man on the couch.
The narrator sighed. "Alright, alright. Bedtime story it is then. Get comfortable."
Stanley tucked himself under the blanket again and waited.
There was a long pause before the narrator spoke again.
"In the great green room there was a telephone and a red balloon..."
Stanley smiled to himself. He hadn't heard this story in forever.
The narrator read "Goodnight room, goodnight moon. Goodnight cow jumping over the moon."
Stanley felt his eyes fall shut and he listened as well as he could until sleep crept over him like a warm ray of sunlight.
"Good night stars, good night air." The narrator looked up and saw Stanley sleeping peacefully. He smiled to himself and tucked him in just a bit more.
"Good night Stanleys everywhere..~"